Broken Soul

Chapter 2.



Michael

"Good luck, little human."

Michael opened his eyes. He felt groggy and confused. It was already bright in his room, and he was starving. Why did no one wake me? I am so hungry, he thought, his mind feeling like it needed some time to get going. He stretched his stiff limbs, preparing to get out of bed, and groaned at the tingly feeling.

"Well, look who is finally awake," a soft voice sounded from his right.

Not recognizing the voice, Michael's head swung around. The sudden movement left him dizzy, and his headache came barreling in like a charging horse.

"Easy, little lord, you might need a minute." The voice belonged to a woman; she was sitting on a chair right next to him. He had never seen her before, but he recognized her white priestly clothing.

"Who are you?" Michael asked, his voice rasping along his throat and causing him to cough.

The priestess took a cup and filled it with water before moving closer to him and helping him drink. Her bound golden hair virtually shone in the sun while she leaned over him. The water felt like pure salvation going down his dry throat, and he craved more, but he wouldn't get it.

"My name is Sister Sola," the priestess said calmly, "I am taking care of you."

"Why?" Michael pressed, not quite understanding the situation.

"You have been asleep for three weeks," she answered his question. "It is quite honestly a miracle that you are even alive."

She was now sitting on his bed beside him and watching him closely. "Do you remember anything from when you were screaming?"

Michael was silent, lost in his mind between the splitting headache and his racing thoughts.

Three weeks? That is impossible! If I slept so long, why am I this exhausted?

"Michael?" Sola looked at him with concern. She raised her hand to his forehead, swiping aside his short brown hair. "Are you okay? Do you feel any pain? Do you know where you are?"

"I have a headache, but it is not too bad." He played off his pain and then continued, "And I am at home, in my room".

Sola's expression changed to relief. "Well, do you remember anything?" she pushed her question from before.

"I had a dream that I was hurting so much, and I screamed, and many people were there, and then it all just went black." The words just spurted out of Michael's mouth; his thoughts were lost in the pain again as he shuddered.

Sola looked at him with pity and explained, "That was not a dream. Do you remember what hurt you so much?"

Not a dream, he thought.

"I am hungry", he said instead of answering her question.

She laughed, "I would think so. Wait a second, I am gonna order you something." She stood up and walked over to the big wooden door.

Michael felt weird; he couldn't describe it, but he didn't feel the same since he woke up. His mind was feeling like his body would after playing the whole day, but at the same time, he felt clearer. A weird pressure had settled on his chest, and it was like he was a waterskin that had too much water in it.

His eyes scanned his room, which was rather empty, dominated by his bed, taking up most of the room. In the corner was a chest with his toys and a small closet on the opposite wall of the door.

Well, I am a child. What more do I need at my age? The moment this thought finished, he was confused again. What kind of thought is that? He was then confused about that thought and continued running circles in his mind until Sister Sola returned from the door.

"The servants will bring you something shortly," she said and sat back down on her chair. They waited in silence until the food arrived.

Michael devoured the meal with great enthusiasm, and Sola asked him questions about his life, how he felt, and just random things.

After he had finished his meal, Sola moved back onto his bed and asked, "Can I check something really quickly?"

Michael nodded in agreement, and the priestess put her hand on his chest. A yellow light began to shine from her hand for a second, and then she removed her hand.

"You are a mage," Michael shouted loudly in surprise. He had never seen a mage before, but he had been told many stories about the evil mages who would get him when he didn't want to go to bed.

"Yes, I am a priest mage of the Idas Church. You know of us, right?" she replied, a little startled by his outburst.

"Uh, Father Albion and my nan said mages are bad," Michael stuttered; he wondered if he should call for help.

"Well, I guess Father Albion should have also told you about the light and anti-mages serving the church and that those are the good mages," she said while chuckling, "but explaining something like that to a child is probably hard."

This comment bothered Michael; he didn't know anything about that, and his head turned red from embarrassment.

Sola noticed his embarrassment and quickly said, "I am sorry that sounded mean. If you want, I can explain it to you another time. Sadly, our time here is over, and I have to leave for now."

"Promise?" he asked.

She promised with a warm smile and then left his room. Michael was left alone with his thoughts, and they were picking up speed rapidly.

He had never really listened to the old Albion when he tried to tell him anything. This is going to change, he told himself. I will learn everything there is to know.

Happy with this commitment he just made, he began to drift back into the embrace of his warm bed, not even wondering about his sudden interest in learning and knowledge.

Sola

Sola was waiting in front of a wooden door for permission to enter. With the whole situation around Michael still on her mind, she fiddled with the golden half-sun brooch on her belt like she often did when deep in thought. The brooch symbolized her belonging to the Order of Purity, the mages within the church, and it was her most prized possession. It was golden because she was a light mage and would be silver if she were an anti-mage.

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The door opened, and a knight came through. He donned a chain mail shirt covered with the coat of arms of the House Rowan, two simple swords crossed on a red field. It was quite unimaginative if you asked Sola, but it got the message across quite clearly that this was a militant house.

The knight was an imposing figure, much taller than the 1,70 m tall priestess, and trained, his grey hair and beard disclosing his experience without diminishing his strong appearance. The two guards at the door were obviously standing straighter the moment the man entered the hallway.

He looked down at the priestess and said with a deep and cold voice, "His lordship will now see you, sister".

At their first meeting, Sola thought he had a problem with her, but she quickly learned that he was a hard and uncaring man. The only thing he cared about was his duty to his lord, and as his personal guard, he mistrusted everyone.

He was the commander of the knights of the house, Sir Godfrey Pyke, and probably the strongest man in these parts of the land, except for Lord Rowan himself, of course. "Thank you, Sir Pyke." With these words, she followed the knight into the lord's study.

It was a modest room, mostly filled with maps and a large table in the middle of the room, and another smaller one at the end of it. An expensive-looking longsword was hanging on the wall, and Sola could feel the sword resonate with the ambient mana, but except for this, the walls were empty.

Even with the lack of decoration, the room didn't feel empty, mostly because of the man behind the smaller table. He wasn't as tall as Sir Pyke, but he had an aura of danger around him that exceeded even the huge knight's. The black hair and hard chin were probably aiding in his appearance, even though his circular beard looked rather delicate for such a hard man.

"Lord Cedric," Sola greeted the head of House Rowan with a small bow. His brown eyes fixated on the woman, following her every move as if she were about to do something terrible. She knew why he was on guard, for three weeks he had been waiting for someone to tell him that his son had died, and such constant stress could make even the hardiest man a little paranoid.

Next to him stood his wife and Michael's mother, the lady Mylia Rowan. She had a hand on Lord Rowan's shoulder and looked similarly tense, but had more eye rings than her husband.

"Your son has awoken," the priestess started. Instantly, a great burden seemed to be lifted off the parents, and the room felt much more hospitable than before.

"How is he? I have to go see him." Lady Mylia said with excitement and was already starting to move toward the door, but Lord Rowan stopped her. "Slow down, let us hear everything first." Then he turned back to Sola and motioned for her to continue.

"He seems to be in some pain, but ultimately alright." Sola hesitated before finally saying, "His condition was most probably caused by a magic affinity awakening, which was much more violent than normal".

She saw the horror forming on Lady Rowan's face while the lord simply frowned at the information and quickly added, "No need to worry though, I am quite sure that he awakened a light affinity, so there should be no problem. You should much rather see it as a blessing from Lord Idas."

Lord Rowan leaned back in his chair and seemed to ponder the Priestess's words. There was no doubt that he had at least some experience with mages. Lady Mylia asked, "How certain are you?"

"Well, I did draw mana out of Michael, and it showed the typical glow of light-infused mana, so it has a high probability, but we will only know without a doubt once Michael uses it himself, or if you would like, I could request an artifact from the church to test him."

Lord Rowan shook his head, "I trust your word on this. How do we proceed, then?"

"That depends on what you want. You can send him to the church for training in magic, train him here, or not at all," Sola explained. "The church would gladly take him in." Her enthusiasm was overflowing, bringing back new acolytes for the order was a great achievement, but she was to be disappointed.

"He will stay here," Lord Rowan returned sternly, probably sensing her excitement.

"I would like to watch over him for the time being if you allow it, in case there are other problems," Sola offered, undeterred by the count's remark.

The lord waved his hand dismissively and replied," As you wish, sister. Stay as long as you see fit, but make sure that if you talk about his affinity, you make it clear that it is light. I don't want rumors to form." He then rose from his chair, and Sola understood that it was time for her to leave. She excused herself with a bow and then left the room.

Michael

Michael's dreams were filled with strange things, things he had never seen. Buildings tall as mountains, people dressed in strange clothing, and metal carriages as fast as the wind. He couldn't make any sense of what he saw, and at the same time, he felt a certain amount of familiarity.

He heard a thundering sound and turned right, just to see one of the huge metal carriages charging him while he just stood there frozen. He tried to move, but his body didn't listen to him. Just before the carriage hit him, Michael awoke with a gasp. Breathing heavily, he looked around, scared that the metal monster would follow him into reality, but he was alone in his room.

The pressure on his chest was still there, but he felt like his mind was untangling; it was hard to describe the feeling. He put his hand on his chest and pushed a little, but the pressure he felt was completely different than the one pushing outward from his body's core.

A sudden knock scared the tense Michael for a second. After realizing what that knock was, he said, "Come in," while sitting up.

The door opened, and in came a screaming child, followed by three more of Michael's siblings. After a moment, Michael managed to make out words in the yelling of his younger brother as the four-year-old tried to climb up on his bed, "yu aweke!"

Finally, he found the wooden stairs, climbed up the bed, and threw himself on Michael. Michael was delighted by the clump of happiness and said, "Hey there, Jona," and hugged his little brother.

He diverted his attention to the other siblings. First was his half-sister Luciel kneeling on his bed and giving him a hug over Jona and said with a beaming smile, "I am so glad you are alright."

She was closely followed by the oldest, Matthias, who was also a half-sibling and the heir of the house. Both were in their teens at 15 and 13 years old and were a spitting image of their lord father with their black hair, brown eyes, and sharp features.

Matthias stood next to his bed and smiled quietly, seemingly content with silently witnessing the family moment.

Lastly, followed by his older sister, Lira. She was two and a half years older than Michael and looked like a mix between the children of the first and second marriages. She shared her black hair with the half-siblings and the piercing green eyes of their mother.

She didn't look too pleased with the situation, and Michael was sure that she had been dragged along by her older half-siblings. Lira came to a stand next to the bed, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and said sarcastically, "You gave us all a pretty big scare."

Matthias gave her a disapproving look and wanted to say something, but Michael was faster, "Yes, it scared me too, but nothing I can do about that." She was surprised by that reply, as he normally would sheepishly apologize and never defend himself.

"Well, true," she stuttered and scratched her arm nervously.

The four here weren't his only siblings; he had a younger brother of one year too, and two older twin half-brothers, Harlov and Oska. He hated them, and they hated him, so he wasn't surprised that they weren't here.

"Are mother and father here too?" Michael asked Luciel hopefully.

"They visited you earlier, but you were resting, and Father went out on a long patrol, so he will probably be back in a couple of days," Matthias cut in on the conversation.

"Oh," was the only thing Michael could think of saying. He had hoped that his father would be here when he woke up, but he was a busy man.

"So, what happened?" Luciel asked him excitedly.

"I don't know, honestly," Michael answered, lost in thought. "I really don't remember anything but the pain."

"That was really horrifying, you were screaming as loud as you could for 15 minutes out of nowhere and then just fell asleep," Matthias said while stroking his chin. "But you got through it."

Michael stared at Matthias. He was his idol, well, after his father, of course. Strong and cool and the perfect noble. Michael wished he could be like him once he grew up.

The siblings stayed for a while and played with him, told him what had happened in the last weeks, and kept him company.

After they left, Michael felt way better and even managed to stand up, even though only for a moment, and on shaky feet. He managed to stumble to the window after a couple of tries and pushed open the covers.

He breathed in the summer breeze and gazed at the surrounding landscape. In front of him stretched the lands of House Rowan, the wooden walls of the castle, and the town of Reen at its base, and beyond the town, large swaths of woods and plains, all bottled into a beautiful landscape by the horizon. He knew that if he looked in the other direction, he would see more wilderness and soon the mountains in the south, and smiled.

This was his home.


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