The boy's eyes were open.
But there was nothing in them.
Just fear. And emptiness.
Clad exhaled — a quiet breath of relief. Then he reached his hand toward the boy.
The boy flinched.
His entire body recoiled — like Clad was something out of a nightmare. Like the sight of him alone was enough to drag him back somewhere he didn't want to go.
Master Aldous spoke gently.
"Son... how are you feeling? Any pain?"
Silence fell over the entire room.
The boy didn't answer. But something moved in his eyes — and whatever it was, it wasn't relief. He began to shift backward. Away from them. Away from everyone. Moving on that broken body like the distance itself could save him.
Master Aldous quietly pulled his aura inward.
Jorald noticed — and did the same. Clad followed.
The merchant had already kept his hidden.
The boy stilled slightly. But his eyes stayed empty — fixed on the ceiling above him, drifting past all of them like they weren't there.
His dry, cracked lips moved.
"D..."
"Da..."
Before he could finish —
Master Aldous raised one hand. Slow. Deliberate.
The boy lifted — just slightly — off the bed. Telekinesis, gentle enough that it barely felt like anything.
The boy startled.
Clad moved immediately — sliding a pillow beneath him. He gestured to a servant for another. That one went in too.
The boy was lowered back down. Carefully. Propped up against the pillows, resting on his back at a slight angle.
His eyes were still empty.
They were about to ask him something —
When his mouth moved first.
Two words.
Quiet. Stripped of everything except the truth behind them.
*"Pain."*
*"Hungry."*
The merchant didn't pause.
"Prepare food for the child. Something suitable for his condition."
"Yes, My Lord."
The servants moved and were gone.
---
The merchant came closer to the boy.
"Son — what is your name?"
The boy looked at him.
Then looked away.
Back to the ceiling. Back to that empty middle distance that seemed to be the only place he felt safe looking.
He said nothing.
---
Master Aldous straightened.
"Alright. Everyone out. Let the child rest."
"But Master—" Jorald started.
"We'll have a meeting this evening." Master Aldous said, cutting it off cleanly. "Everything will be discussed then."
"As you say."
The room began to empty. The merchant. Jorald. Arthur. Leo. All of them filed out.
Master Aldous turned to John, who had been standing quietly nearby.
"Go to the kitchen. Add something to the boy's food — herbs or medicine. Something that will help him rest easier."
"Yes, Master." John said — and followed the others out.
---
The corridor outside was quiet.
Arthur and Leo greeted the merchant with a nod and moved off in the other direction.
John was heading toward the kitchen when the merchant stopped him.
A hand on his shoulder.
"John."
John turned — straightening immediately, hands clasped together in front of him like a well-mannered student.
"Yes, My Lord?"
"What do you think? About that child."
John considered it honestly.
"I'm not sure, My Lord. But his condition is stable now."
"Good."
Jorald stroked his moustache slowly — thinking. Then he looked at John.
"Did you also know his veins were destroyed? How exactly did Master determine that?"
The merchant's eyes shifted to John as well — curious now.
"I apologize, My Lord — I didn't know. Master was the one who identified it." John said, looking straight ahead. Then — "If you'll permit me..."
"Yes, yes. Go."
John left.
---
The merchant and Jorald stepped outside into the garden.
The afternoon sun was still out — but something in the sky had shifted. The light felt thinner than it had before.
They walked to the tea house at the center of the garden and sat.
"Bring tea. And cookies." the merchant told the servant standing nearby.
The servant disappeared inside.
"What do you think, Jorald?"
"About what, My Lord?"
"The boy." The merchant looked at the garden. "Given the state he's in — can he survive? Or is it already too late?"
Before Jorald could answer —
Footsteps. Running.
A servant came around the corner, slightly out of breath.
"Greetings, My Lord. Greetings, Knight Master."
"Greetings." Both said.
"Forgive the interruption, My Lord — a message has arrived for you."
He produced a letter and held it out.
"You may go."
The merchant looked at it. The seal on the front was elaborate — the kind that belonged to someone with standing. A major noble, or a significant merchant house. He broke it open, read it, and set it down on the table.
The tea arrived. The servant poured.
"What did it say?" Jorald asked.
A small smile crossed the merchant's face.
"Nothing urgent. A breakdown of this quarter's expenses and profits. And a list of new requests."
"Requests." Jorald said it with the particular flatness of a man making a point without quite saying it. "You did bring quite a haul back this time. From rather far away."
The merchant laughed quietly.
"Yes. You're right about that."
He lifted his cup. Took a slow sip.
"Now. The boy."
Jorald picked up his own cup.
"If he were an ordinary child — un-awakened, no ability — he would have been dead long before you found him." He said. "But that ability — the one that technically shouldn't exist — changed everything."
"Mm." The merchant reached for a cookie. "A rare ability. And it came to him for free."
Jorald bit into one himself. "You don't think he could have two abilities? Like Master?"
The merchant finished his tea.
"It's possible. Mages can possess two abilities past a certain level — that much is known. But that boy hasn't awakened yet. Not even once."
---
The wind picked up.
Not a gentle breeze — something that moved with intent. The kind that comes ahead of a change in weather.
Above the garden, dark clouds were beginning to gather at the edges of the sky.
---
The door to the tea house slid open.
Master Aldous stepped out into the garden — John quietly behind him.
"So this is where you ended up."
Both men rose.
Master Aldous waved a hand.
"Sit, sit."
He took a chair across from them. Settled into it with the unhurried ease of a man who had learned long ago that urgency was rarely as useful as patience.
"That child's condition," he said, "is serious. But it is also strange."
The merchant and Jorald looked at each other.
"What do you mean?" the merchant asked.
Master Aldous was quiet for a moment.
Then —
"The boy has lost his memory."
"What?" Jorald said it directly — no softening, no hesitation. "How?"
Master Aldous's voice came out heavy. Measured. Like a man placing something down carefully because he knew it would land hard.
"That child's own power —"
A pause.
"Has been both his curse. And his salvation."
---
**[Chapter 10 — End]**