Son of a slave Chapter 43

"I’ll get to study swordsmanship?" he said excitedly.

"And magic as well, the mont that you co into your energies. Even if I have to hire a high arcanite to be your teacher." His voice taking on a tender tone, he said, "I promise you, Alistar, I’ll do everything within my power to keep you safe, as if you were my own son." Stooping down, Caedmon pulled him into a tight embrace.

Just like that, Alistar’s anger dissipated like fog in the wind. All he felt now was an overwhelming sense of gratitude. They hadn’t known each other long, but Caedmon truly cared for him and was willing to do anything to keep him safe and content. His uncle’s warmth reminded him of his mother’s. Suddenly, he found himself endlessly grateful that it was Mister Alder that had found him on the side of the Winding Road and not a danger beast or a band of bandits. His uncle often ntioned his savior, whom he looked forward to eting.

Breaking contact, Caedmon dipped a hand into his tunic and removed a gleaming string of tal from around his neck. He held a locket of vibrant silver, which twinkled brilliantly even in the dim light of his study. It was an oval piece, the front shaped in a way that showed an elegant butterfly amidst a patch of wildflowers. His uncle opened it, which revealed a small compartnt. This slot was empty, though it could fit a few coins or a miniature portrait, perhaps a small piece of folded parchnt.

"This belonged to your mother," he said plaintively. "She gave it to the night before she was sent away. That was almost eleven years ago. Up until today, I’ve kept an artistic likeliness of my late wife within this compartnt, but I’ve decided that you should have it. It’s the only true keepsake of your mother’s that I can give you."

Alistar struggled to hold back his tears in the face of Caedmon’s kindness. Living a life as a slave, where possessing a single apple was seen as the peak of luxury, just being allocated a bedroom, being clothed and fed, was more than he could ever have asked for. Compared to the necklaces and lockets he had seen in the market, this piece was likely worth more than one hundred silver lucets. That was enough to feed a person for years, so long as they ate their als at the market. Even so, selling the locket was the furthest thing from his mind.

"Is it really okay?" he asked, unsure.

Caedmon smiled, placing it around his neck and fastening it in place. "This here is a locking chanism"—he indicated a small switch—"which makes for a good place to hold a miniature likeliness, as I had up until today. Once the lock is set, nothing will fall out of this compartnt." Tucking it into Alistar’s tunic, he patted him on both his shoulders. "And now, a second piece, this one from my own collection. One of the only things my father ever gave , after he discovered my passions for the arts." He produced a simple bracelet with a small plate of silver as the focus. "Although it was more of an insult to , I can assure you that I only give you this with the purest of intentions."

"That’s for ?"

His uncle frowned for a mont, and then asked Alistar to hold out his left arm. "It’s about ti we rid you of that unsightly thing."

Alistar wasn’t sure why, but he was sowhat reluctant to part with the rough lump of tal that had marked him as a slave of Crystellum. While he wouldn’t have to hide it beneath the sleeves of his tunics any longer, he’d worn it ever since he could rember and felt odd taking it off. Although it reminded him of harder days, it was still a symbol of the ti he’d spent with his family.

"Co now, the sooner the better."

"Must I?"

"You’ve got a strong bloodline, so we need to make sure that you don’t accidently hurt anybody when you co into your magics. You’re already nine, after all, and such a thing is very common among the Silverkins at your age. This here will prevent that from happening, and above all else, we can’t have you wearing sothing like that anymore."

Alistar hesitated. "Will that one be able to light up as well?" He knew that he was being rude. Caedmon was presenting him with a valuable gift, yet he was searching for a reason to stick with his old bracelet.

Caedmon’s eyebrow’s shot up, nearly eting his hairline. "Light up, you say? Such a thing has happened before?"

"Yes," he said, "several tis."

"Was this recently? When did it shine for the first ti?"

Was it so surprising that his bracelet could light up? Many of the other slaves’ bracelets were able to light up as well, so it couldn’t have been uncommon.

"On my seventh birthday. And then again when I was eight, and then not too long ago, while I was still in the mines." The bitter mory of being abused and beaten by those detestable guards drifted through his mind.

"S—seven, you say!" Caedmon looked at Alistar as if he might explode at any minute. "Are you certain?"

He nodded. "It glows quite frequently these days." Several tis since his arrival in Mayhaven, he had awoken in the middle of the night to find his room curiously awash in a red, incandescent light, always pulled from his dreams by the heat of the tal at his wrist.

"Perhaps it’s no longer able to..." Caedmon muttered. "No, that can’t be. This should be the sa type that your parents wore." Coming back to himself as if staving off a daydream, he grabbed Alistar’s wrist and inspected the marker. "Then all the more reason. We must swap these, quickly."

"Uncle, you’re not making any sense."

"No matter. Quickly now." He pulled a peculiar stamp from his pocket, its surface a circle of brilliant jade. It was a magic crystal, and a rare type at that. On Alistar’s slave marker was a small indentation, which the stamp slid into with ease. It was a perfect fit. A small blue light flared to life between the two objects, and then a chink in the tal chain glowed and separated, which caused the piece to fall to the floor with a clank.

Without warning, Alistar was overco by a wave of nausea, and his body was assailed by a horrible stinging sensation. The unwelco discomfort spread throughout his body like a terrible virus, which frightened him greatly.

Alarmingly, Caedmon doubled over with an anguished gasp, as if he’d just been struck in the abdon by a strong blow. Looking up with the eyes of a cornered animal, he smacked the second bracelet around Alistar’s wrist and fumbled to seal it shut with the strange stamp. After this, he began to let out pained groans.

The mont the bracelet was latched securely around Alistar’s wrist, the simple plate of lustrous silver began to burn blue, and then gave off a powerful surge of brilliant light. By the ti the light receded, so too had all of his discomfort.

Caedmon, on the other hand, remained on the ground for a few monts, as if suddenly sick. Eventually, he climbed back onto his feet, his clothes soaked through with heavy amounts of sweat as he wiped so saliva from his mouth, which had hung open as if he’d had no control over it.

"Uncle!" Alistar rushed to steady Caedmon, who had paled by several shades.

"My apologies," said his uncle, who glanced at the scrap tal that used to be his slave marker. It was smoking lightly, its body aglow like molten tal. "It seems that I’ve mishandled the energies within the crystal. Forgive ."

Even after spending the majority of his life in Crystellum, he would never have imagined that so much energy was stored within magic crystals, even if it had been a bright green one. The brighter a crystal was, the more importance the guards had placed on them back in the mines, after all. Rarity of the crystal aside, it was unlike Caedmon to miscalculate sothing, but Alistar was just glad that they were okay.

A harsh pounding resounded throughout the room. Soone was banging on the doors to Caedmon’s study.

"Caedmon!" called a man’s voice. "Caedmon, are you in there?"

Shuffling over to the door on unsteady feet, Caedmon opened it to reveal a pale-faced man of similar age. His black hair was short and slicked back with grease, his chestnut eyes wide with alarm.

"The house servants—sothing has happened to them! That trendous pressure just now, it seems to have rendered everybody on the estate unconscious." The man glanced at Alistar, and then looked back at Caedmon with unfocused eyes, equally sallow in complexion and drenched in sweat as he leaned against a desk for support. "We should leave until we find out what happened. I’ll gather the girls, you—"

"Steady, Alder," sighed Caedmon, who gave the man’s arm a weak clap to ease the tension. "If even we were reduced to this state, then of course the servants couldn’t handle it."

"It? Just what the devil happened?"

Caedmon glanced at the marker that was still smoking on the floor, and then turned to Alistar. "That will be all for today. You’re free to go." Turning to his friend, he said, "Co. Let us see to the servants. I’ll explain on the way."

The two n hurried into the hallway, leaving a flustered Alistar alone within the wavering light of the study. He was shaken. Jade-coloured gems were undoubtedly rare, but they were far from the highest quality. Just what kind of crystal had Caedmon used, and why had its reaction been so violent?

Alistar retreated to the library, where he spent the rest of the day digging through all of the books that he could find on magic crystals in a desperate search for any information that might shed light on what had just happened. Though he skimd through several reputable sources, he found nothing useful.