Emil’s life within the next week became incredibly busy. If he was not by Johan’s side, then he was with Mary being trained, and if he was not being trained by Mary, he was being taught how to read and write. He barely had time to sleep, let alone eat, so the weight that he had started to gain was starting to wither away.

His father was in a similar situation. Only, his was slightly worse. Since he was not a child, he was being worked to the bone. The amount of weight that he had lost within a week was worrisome.

But there was no other way around it. Their status wasn’t the same as the others at the manor. This meant that they were mostly fed scraps with next to no nutritional value to them.

Whether their lives were better or worse than they were before was hard to determine. If they wanted to continue living in relative safety, their health would have to be compromised in such a way. If they wanted to eat the game and fruits that they had been able to gather back at the village, then they would have to give up their safety.

But to Felix, such a compromise was obvious. They would suffer a little, but to him, it was still far better than living out in those woods. He didn’t have to worry about his son being murdered or any magical beasts attacking them… The loss of some sleep and food seemed meager in comparison to being able to keep their lives.

He silently stroked Emil’s usually soft hair which was growing brittle from malnutrition. Currently, the boy was fast asleep. He almost envied his son’s ability to fall unconscious so easily. He, too, would be asleep if it wasn’t for one thing… The nightmares. These were not his own. He did not dream at night. Instead, they belonged to his son who frequently woke up screaming and crying.

But what else could he expect? Emil was suppressing a great deal of stress and trauma. It surfaced in his subconsciousness.

Still, these nightmares were not normal. They were violent and while attempting to calm Emil down, his father would endure multiple hits and scratches. In fact, Felix had the growing suspicion that something was wrong with Emil. But due to his poor education, all he could do is guess.

Emil began convulsing.

Felix steeled his mental and gently attempted to shake his son awake. Sometimes, this simple action would work.

But not this time.

A blood-curdling shriek echoed inside of their home. Its intensity would’ve easily awoken an entire town, but after the first night, sound-neutralizing magic had been placed so no one in the manor had to hear anything. It was their way of subtly reminding the Lunds of their place. They could have helped them easily, but chose not to.

Felix pushed the bitterness that rose up down, focusing on his son. Emil’s body start bucking wildly, forcing Felix to try his best at attempting to lock him down into place. But it was not that easy. Emil, in his manic state, mistook Felix as an attacker and started to fight even harder.

And perhaps due to the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through Emil’s body and the weakness and fatigue of Felix’s, this was a great struggle. Emil shrieked and roared, contorting his body so that he could sink his teeth into Felix’s arm.

Felix inhaled sharply, but did not relent.

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His father took in another deep breath and barked sharply, “Emil!”

After a few moments, Emil’s finally unclamped his jaw. Now, his eyes rolled back as he began to spew out nonsequential words, “Hungry ones. Bad moon. Don’t go. Eyes are watching!” It sounded as if speaking pained him, as his voice came out scratchy and high-pitched.

Felix was shocked. It was the first time that he had actually heard his son speak during these night terrors. But these sentences must have taken the rest of Emil’s energy away, because all the tension in his body disappeared and he went slack.

In fact, he started snoring lightly and looked peaceful, as if none of that had even happened. But the blood on his mouth said otherwise.

Watching this with disbelief in his heart, Felix leaned back and appraised the wound that he had received this night. It was stinging with pain, but Felix had become accustomed to the feeling of agony, so it did not mean much to him.

He needed to clean the wound out before it got infected, though.

After tossing a quick glance at his son, he left the shed.

...

“Do you not know how to dodge, boy!” the weapons’ master was currently shouting at Johan.

Emil watched this all happening from the sidelines.

Johan was very weak.

He came to this realization after watching his master get knocked flat on his butt time after time again. According to the whispers he overheard from the other staff, Johan was very talented with magic… they even joked and said that because of this, he was not skilled at anything else.

Emil could not help but agree. He had never seen Johan practice any magic before, but watching this lead him to believe that the rumors were true. Even though he had never fought before, he was able to tell that the weapons’ master wasn’t doing much, but Johan was struggling to keep up. His movements were clumsy, he would often trip over his own feet, and he would cower the moment his opponent raised his hand.

He was very unimpressed.

Before, Emil had looked at Johan with a great deal of reverence, now it had simmered down to mild interest. It was understandable, after watching him get defeated so easily so many times, anyone would have lost respect. He had been watching Johan not progress in his training for over a month now.

Emil repressed a yawn and leaned back, allowing the sun to beam down on his face. In the background, he could hear Johan still being scolded and the clattering of their wooden weapons.

Despite this clamor, he felt very peaceful. While anyone else would have been suffering while being relegated to the status of a subhuman, Emil only felt joy. He couldn’t help but think to himself how nice everything was here. There was always food, there wasn’t any problems with him going outside, his health was still better than it had been in years.

What did he have to complain about?

A darkness tugged at his heart, but he subconsciously pressed it in deeper. Everything was fine here.

He began to hum to himself, closing his eyes while kicking his feet and rocking his body.

Of course, his happiness was short-lived.

Johan shouted in a peeved tone, “Dammit, what are you doing over there? Bring me a towel and some water!”

Emil peeked his eye open at the right moment to watch the weapons’ master smack Johan on the back of his head.

“Watch your tongue!”

The boy didn’t utter another word, but he glowered at Emil. Being on the receiving end of such a deadly stare, he decided to scramble and get what Johan had ordered him to.

After a couple more seconds, he sprinted over to where his master stood and offered him a towel and a jug.

Johan snatched the water from Emil’s hands. His glare did not lessen. Instead, he hissed, “You should remember your place.”

Emil’s mouth flattened into a thin line, the brightness in his eyes dimming. The darkness that itched at his heart appeared once more, scratching more and more of its surface. It was not that he had forgotten it. But why was he being punished for enjoying himself?

To him, this felt like anything but fair.