p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.1199998855591px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"There are things in this world that are dictated by nothing and yet by all. They are the tiny things; the granted things. Such as for example: a shared birthday, a smudge of dirt by the lips, an eyelash on the cheek, and even simply the smile given by the passing stranger. Yet as it goes the most underappreciated thing of them all is the spectacularly human trait of choice. So the story /It was on a pleasantly warm and particularly breezy day, one where the avian daemons of this realm partook in great feats of acrobatics, when Alfred Fredrick Kirkland was born. He came into the world quickly, with great ease upon his mother, and was the epitome of health in all its natural wonders. He was a larger child with well developed muscles for a newborn baby and a wisp of blonde curls a top his otherwise bald head. The little boy was quite loud and positively drove his poor mother and her nurse-maids mad, keeping them up at all unholy times of the night and morning. But as fate goes, Alfred's mother fell ill- deathly ill. At only a few months old the young boy would find himself mother-less; with this new factor it would be arranged that Alfred would fall under the care of Arthur Kirkland, his /Alas, Arthur was a very busy man; he was a politician, a warrior, a traveler, an author, and most of all a scientist. This meant that the man had very little time to attend to his nephew and seeing as how important he was this most definitely meant he could not just drop everything and take care of his dearly departed's child. In the end Arthur left the care of the boy to the scholars of Jordan College in Oxford, one of which was a childhood acquaintance of /Any sensible parent would have thought dumping a child on a bunch of bachelor scholars was a heinous idea; Arthur was obviously not a sensible parent nor was he much of a parent at all. So, Alfred was handed off to the University to be raised by the maids and the scholars there under order of Lord Kirkland. Elaborating on all of this, Jordan College was a large and prestigious establishment that had been standing for centuries by the time Alfred was transported there to live out his childhood, and if he was lucky his adulthood. The many buildings and areas that encompassed the school were enclosed within tall iron gates that had great swirling designs and spires. There were botanical centers and areas where livestock was kept, as well as places where these goods were processed and refined. All in all, the university could function as its own city-state if it so pleased. That wasn't even counting the lands the college owned outside of the immediate /In this grandiose place there was a particular scholar was in charge of keeping the young Alfred in check as he grew older; His name was Francis Bonnefoy and he had known Arthur since they were both but young boys and he had grown to watch the other man accomplish what he had always passed as impossible. Ah, but, as Arthur had gone on from Oxford and pursued the greatness he had so rightfully now earned Francis had stayed behind and as he found it had brought him quite the bit of trouble in the grand schemes of /But things work in mysterious ways; only a day before Alfred's third birthday there was a surprise for his head caretaker that would surely change not only his life but Alfred's' as well. The second Matthew Bonnefoy was born he was thrust from his mother's arms and into Francis'. It was very sudden, but Francis fell quite abruptly in love with the small quiet bundle of blue blankets and blonde curls the second he grasped the child. Albeit, taking care of a newborn was extremely strenuous. Francis often found himself neglecting Alfred in favor of making sure that Matthew, to put it simply, survived. Taking care of two boys was rough on the older man but as time dragged on he got used to balancing the care of the boys and his studies until he was able to pass Matthew to the maids and butlers while he became Alfred's personal /Although one would think it strange, Alfred and Matthew never officially met one another while under the care of Francis until later in their lives. This was mostly in due part to how the two grew up separate from one another. It wasn't as if Francis had intentionally kept them from meeting, he had just seen no real reason to have them together. That and he hardly needed Alfred being too rowdy with little Matthew either. The two boys were different in every way that was visible to the naked eye, and it was surely a surprise for all of Oxford when the two became friends, but first we must cover how exactly they became friends in the first place./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.1199998855591px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The day had been a mellow one, a few occasional drizzles of rain passed overhead every other hour—this was expected in the month of April. A nippy breeze periodically blew in to surprise those wandering about in their short dusters and boots. One of these people going about their business was a petite young boy with chin length straw blonde hair that curled gently around his soft porcelain face. He had large doe-esque blue-lavender eyes framed by long dark-blonde eyelashes. Small pink lips puckered in concentration as the boy pulled his worn down light blue blazer closed tighter as a gust of cold air blew past him and danced over his cheeks, tinting them a delicate shade of red. This little boy was none other than Matthew Bonnefoy; currently he was taking out the slop to the small group of pigs in the agriculture areas of the /He had no qualms with doing this chore, in all honestly. Matthew enjoyed helping out around as much as possible. It definitely gave him something to do other than sit around and idle the days away. He just wished he perhaps had somebody to do his chores with other than the kitchen maids and the occasional butler. As far the boy was aware, there were no other children lodging in Jordan other than himself—thus he had ended up entertaining himself most often by going to the library or sitting outside the lecture halls and listening to the drone of the professors over subjects no right-minded eight year old would have any interest /So now here he was barely protected against the unusually chilly wind and trying to drag this awfully heavy bucket of slop and rinds to the pig pens. Just as he was about to sigh for perhaps the fifth time in a row, a voice near his ear piped /"Would you stop sighing so much? Maybe if you stop releasing so much hot air you won't be so cold." What might have been mistaken for a fur collar suddenly moved and stuck its pointed furry muzzle into the cold air, small black nose twitching as the animal spoke. Matthew ended up sighing anyways and rolled his eyes slightly. The white ermine around his neck made a noise of indignation as it shifted off of Matthew's neck and abruptly morphed into a grey goose fledgling right before Matthew's eyes. He did not seem too surprised at this; after all, this was his /The creature flapped around Matthew's head for several moments as the boy pulled the collar of his coat up (due to the lack of previous warmth now missing from his neck) before settling on his shoulder and fluffing its feathers /"I would stop sighing if I could, Otti—I really would. You know why!" A slight uncharacteristic whine threatened to edge to prominence in Matthew's tone as his daemon, Ottium, blinked his beady eyes twice before releasing a sigh of his own. The blond gave a couple more tugs of the slop bucket before finally arriving to the pig pens. Ottium took flight and landed on the fencing as the pigs came trotting out to the trough. Matthew, with great difficulty, managed to get the bucket over his head and start to tip it precariously over the edge of the fence. Just as he was getting up on his tiptoes to tip the bucket further, another set of hands suddenly grasped the bucket and pushed it farther for /"Here, let me help!" Matthew gasped deeply in surprise, hands darting away from the bucket as it ended up tipped all the way over the fence sending slop everywhere as it fell and rattled down into the metal trough. Slipping out from under an unidentified arm Matthew turned around as Ottium dived down from a short ways up in the sky and hit the ground in the form of a ravenous wildcat, fur along his spine bristling and emerald green eyes bright. Matthew, having been startled beyond belief, was even more surprised to see that the person who had come up behind him was a boy. Not a man, one might stress, but a boy. As in a /The boy before him was around a foot taller than he was which was a dead- ringer was that he was older than Matthew. He had short straight golden blonde hair that was cut around his ears and parted off to the right in an attempt to look neat. Sadly a cowlick standing up from his part line ruined the whole effect. Wide bright baby blue eyes looked from Ottium to Matthew in surprise as the boy's own daemon, who had taken the form of a large canine, bristled at /"Lysi, calm down would you?" Ottium gave a long low hiss before morphing into a common house cat and skittering to hide behind Matthew's trembling legs. The other boy's daemon gave what looked like a grin before backing over to her human with a soft murmur. In the meantime the boy had adopted a rather sheepish smile on his tanned face which revealed a pearly set of mismatched baby and adult /"Hey, I'm sorry if I scared you… I saw you from up there," As the boy pointed Matthew followed with his eyes to a set of windows on the third story of one of the nearby buildings. "And, well, I've never seen any other kids here and you looked like you were having trouble so… I came down to help!" There was a pause as the boy's eyes flit to the mess they'd made of the troughs before his face reddened a bit and his gaze fell to the /"I guess I sort of did more harm than good though…" Matthew just blinked silently, unsure of what to say to this other kid who had magically come from seemingly nowhere. There really was another kid here at Jordan? And he looked like he was being mentored under the scholars judging by his rather proper and new looking attire. When Matthew's silence was prolonged, another voice broke into the /"I think she's a mute, Alfred." Automatically the boy, who Matthew could now tell was called Alfred, gave an almost insulted look at the notion. Even as Matthew was opening his mouth to correct the daemon and say he was a boy, Ottium pushed his head between Matthew's legs and glared at the other /"Excuse you! Matthew is not a she!" Alfred jolted a bit when Ottium talked and looked from the daemon to Matthew before the wheels started turning in his /"Wait, your daemon is the same as you? Wow that's actually kind of cool! Uh—but right! I'm Alfred if you couldn't have guessed. This is Lysimanche, but I just call her Lysi." Alfred gave another fuller smile and shoved a hand out to /"Your name is Matthew? That's a nice name! Sorry for thinking you were a girl by the way. You're just sort of small for a guy is all." Ottium grumbled something under his breath as Matthew frowned vaguely and looked Alfred up and down before very slowly reaching a hand out to shake Alfred' /"It's very nice to meet you." When the younger boy spoke Alfred's brow furrowed and he leaned in, eyes /"What?"br /"I said, it's very nice to meet you." Now hearing Matthew clearly, Alfred nodded and gave the boy's hand a squeeze before letting go and patting Lysimanche gently as she suddenly lighted upon his shoulder in the form of a young red-tailed /"It's cool to meet you too! So, this means we're friends now right?" Matthew looked down at Ottium at the question. The daemon shrugged his shoulders and sat down and lazily started to lick a paw and drag it over his face. The smaller blond ended up looking down and tugging at his sleeves idly as he tried to find out what to say. He moved back as Alfred crouched down to look him in the /"You're pretty shy aren't you? I knew you weren't mute though! That's just Lysi being mean. I promise she's actually really nice. But hey, we don't have to be friends if you don't want to! We can be ac… acquint… acquient…."br /"Acquaintances?..."br /"Yeah that word! You're smart too huh? Blah, I'm not really about the brains thing. I'm pretty strong though." Matthew tilted his head at Alfred's blabbering and watched Lysimanche puff up with pride. Quite out of the blue Ottium jumped up into his arms in the form of a lemur, and the sight of the creature made Alfred ogle and gasp in /"Whoa, that's a cool animal! What is it?" It was Matthew's daemon's turn to fill with pride. Truth be told, Ottium loved to shift into obscure animal forms just to help Matthew show off how many different animals he knew about from reading about them in the scholars /"It's a ring tailed lemur. They're native to this really newly discovered island off the coast of the African continent and they live in these really big jungles where it rains a lot… and they eat these really weird fruits and—" Matthew fell silent abruptly and simply pet Ottium as he clung to the blonds' chest and chattered softly. In a not so inconspicuous way, Lysimanche had copied Ottium form except with longer fur and a fluffier tail. Alfred barely noticed his daemon's form at the moment and instead simply stared at Matthew as if he'd started speaking in another /"You really are smart." He stated dumbly, eyebrows arched up in an almost daunted way. Matthew managed a small smile and hugged his daemon to his chest with a humble /"I read a lot is all. Or, at least when I can." Ottium spoke up noisily at this /"You read all the time, even when you're not supposed to! That's how you got dishwater on that one history book!" Alfred simply laughed good-heartedly as Matthew's face flared /"Dishwater, huh? Where were you that you got dishwater on a book?"br /"I was doing the dishes in the kitchen…" A soft groan came from Lysimanche as she shifted back into the form of a red-tailed hawk, seeming to grow bored of being a /"Yeah, no duh Alfred! He's some servant boy after all." Alfred seemingly ignored Lysi as he nodded /"Right… Hey, it's really cold out here. Do you want to go inside now? I can introduce you to my tutor! You sort of remind me of him—you both have really pretty hair." Alfred reached out to grab Matthew by the hand, catching the boy by surprise with the compliment as he let himself be tugged along as he struggled to keep up with Alfred's larger /"You think my hair is pretty?" Sadly, Alfred did not hear his question and simply kept tugging Matthew along over to the building the younger boy could assume that the older had come from in the first place. Casting a worried glance back to the abandoned bucket and spewed slop, which was now mostly gone due to the pigs eating a good bit of it, Matthew faintly wondered if Francis would be mad at him for not completing his /Reentering the building was a relief on Matthew's chilled skin, and he gently tugged his hand from Alfred's and rubbed it with his other as he looked around. It wasn't often he came into this building without Francis' supervision. This was where the scholars tended to do most of their work after all. Or at least that's what the man had told /"Do you live here?" Matthew muttered as Ottium turned into a small grey mouse and burrowed into his shirt. Alfred looked around before turning back to Matthew; Lysimanche circled around the two of them impressively for such limited /"Did you ask if I lived here?" Alfred questioned with a couple rapid blinks. Lysimanche circled tightly round Matthew's head causing the boy to recoil before the bird went back and landed on Alfred's shoulder. Ottium gave an insulted noise from within the younger boy's clothes and mocked the other daemon as she /"Well of course we live here you dumpy. Where else would we live?" Her words didn't have as much bite as they previously had, but it didn't make Matthew feel any better; he could feel his ears burning red with sour embarrassment. Alfred made a displeased face and reached out a hand to nudge Matthew's /"Yeah, I live here! It's pretty cool, but it's also really boring. Well, until my uncle comes to visit! Then everything really comes to life and sometimes he stops by to see how I'm doing in my studies. But come on! We need to get to my room. I'm pretty sure Sir Bonnefoy is back from that break he took." Alfred turned away from Matthew before the young boy's eyes could even widen in disbelief. Once more the boy was being dragged along by Alfred, trying to get his attention only to have Lysimanche stare at him imprudently. Against his better judgment he made a face at the currently avian daemon and watched in satisfaction as her feather fluffed up in insult. Sir Bonnefoy, Alfred had said. Was it really possible he was talking about Mister Francis?br /Matthew almost fell flat on his face as Alfred suddenly took a sharp turn and started to ascend a steep flight of stairs two at a time with impossible ease. Matthew on the other hand was not experienced with stairs, at least none this long or steep, and ended up having to put his hand on the railing and take them carefully one at a time while Alfred jittered impatiently at the top of the staircase. Several scholars going about their business casts glances at the two children. Most were familiar with the presence of Alfred but expressed the slightest twinge of bewilderment at the sudden appearance of another child. Some of the more senile might even mutter to themselves and their daemons about 'just how many children are they allowing in Jordan nowadays' or 'pesky brats'. These were the kind of people we will forfeit from the Secret Santa for they are, in fact, assholes of the most unprecedented degree that would with no doubt give a sarcastic thank you for the gift you get them. What a bunch of /Besides the presence of these individuals judging them from afar, Matthew and Alfred climbed one more flight of stairs before Matthew raced after Alfred down a hall way where he borderline crashed into the older boy when he came to an abrupt halt outside of a semi-opened door. Shushing Matthew noisily, Alfred turned to look into the room as Lysimanche took the form of a small canary and nested down into the boy's hair. Matthew wiggled his way in to peek through the crack as well and spotted exactly who he had expected to see standing in the room pacing with an impressive looking lioness at his /Francis Bonnefoy was never one to get too annoyed with the boys under his care, but he must admit that at times Alfred sure did grate his cheese something fierce. He knew the boy would be back any second now—he wasn't a dumb child. He knew his limits. He just hoped that the boy wasn't dragging another muddied dog or half dead bird in with /"Francois, they are here." Britainny spoke up softly, ears swiveled to the door as her great head swung to face the same direction. Francis followed her gaze, tucking a strange of gold blond hair back behind his ear as his blue eyes narrowed. They only sprung back open in shock as Alfred entered with not a dog or a bird but with another child. In the loosest terms, Alfred had just walked in with Francis' child. They are here, she had said. And there they were /"Mathieu?" Francis paced over to the boys as they stood in the now open doorway, their daemons meek in the presence of his own as she lazily padded over to them with her tail swaying to and fro. The littler of the two boys nodded furiously as if agreeing with Francis that that was in fact his name. Alfred simply seemed /"What is this? I thought I told you to go feed the piglets, not show up at random here where you are not supposed to be." Francis chided gently, kneeling down and cupping the boy's face in his hand as he ran his thumb over his cheeks. Matthew said nothing but his brow knit together and Francis could see Ottium, nothing but a shivering lump, hiding in Matthew's shirt. It was then that Alfred spoke up loudly as to make sure Francis heard /"I brought him here! How come you didn't tell me there was another kid here, Sir Bonnefoy? And how come he knows you? Is he your nephew?" Matthew opened his mouth to say something only to be hushed by Francis' finger. Lysimanche took flight off Alfred's head and flittered over to rest upon Britainny's instead, pecking at the lioness' ears /"Well, it was simply something that did not cross my mind, Alfred. Thank you for telling me it was you who had brought him here." A pause broke in as Francis watched Lysimanche pestering his daemon before turning his attention back to the boys. "I am not just the man your uncle wanted to take care of you. Mathieu is a relative of mine yes… but I would not say am his uncle; I have been taking care of him as well as you. Is that enough for you, hm?" Alfred seemed satisfied with these answers, gaze lazily shifting to watch his daemon picking at the lioness' ears. Just as Alfred perked up a particularly careless peck made Britainny growl in pain and as result made Francis' /"Are his parents dead too?" The brash question made Matthew's eyes widen as he looked from Alfred to Francis, his jaw dropped in disbelief at the inquiry. Ottium crawled out from Matthew's shirt in the form of a cockroach and, peculiarly enough, started to hiss at Alfred. Francis scowled and Britainny gently batted Lysimanche off of her head as she walked in a couple of frustrated circles and looked to Francis as if waiting to see how he would /"Alfred, you cannot just ask such questions and you are well aware of this. What would you uncle have said if he'd heard you say that?" Alfred shrugged and looked away with apparent disinterest as Lysimanche landed back on his shoulder, but by her slightly distressed twittering it was apparent he knew he had done something /"It was just a question. And I don't think he'd care very much. He never talks about dad anyways." Matthew, who now had the beginnings of tears in his eyes,was not comforted by Alfred's response at all. Francis pursed his lips and cleared his throat. This automatically caught the older boy's attention and the stern gaze of the lioness next to him was enough to make Lysimanche fall completely silent on Alfred's /"Apologize to Mathieu, Alfred." The words came out solid and sure sounding. It was a tone that Matthew had honestly never heard to this day—partly because he had never done anything to have to face that tone. He was a very tame child after all. Matthew shifted to look up at Alfred, and the second his bleary eyes met the older boy's an apology tumbled from his lips and a small sad tweet was heard from Lysimanche as well. Ottium quickly changed into the form of a jasper brown rabbit and slipped down into Matthew's arm now that he was content. Matthew managed a wet smile that made a small one tweak on Alfred's lips in turn as Francis released a deep exhale and patted the two /"Well, I suppose I will be looking after the both of you, again, from now on oui? How tedious. I can already feel the bags under my eyes from all the sleepless nights! Comment contrariant…" Francis stood from his kneeling position now as Britainny moved to rub against his legs /"Quoi à propos son père, François?" The daemon spoke softly in French, as to throw the other two boys and their daemons off as to what the two of them were speaking of. Judging by the evident confusion from the two it had worked. Francis felt a sharp spike of worry pierce his chest at the thought of having to deal with that talk this /"For another day, Britainny. Another day." And at that, Francis dropped the topic and returned his attention back to the task at hand. Now with a weary heart, the man looked over Matthew and Alfred. The two were watching each other in almost sheer fascination. It was no surprise. The closest thing either had seen to another child was pictures in story books or hazy figures playing ball outside of the gates of the university. Very tentatively, Alfred reached out a hand to touch Matthew's hair and in turn the younger boy hesitantly extended his own out to prod Alfred on the stomach and chest. It almost made Francis start laughing. He'd never seen a stranger pair of /"Excusez-moi, you two- Before we start a game of doctor, might I suggest we return to Alfred's lesson?" Hands were retracted quickly as Alfred groaned slightly and Francis arched up a brow as Matthew turned to leave. Before the man could even question him, Alfred's daemon got to the whip crack and spoke /"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Alfred nodded, for once listening to what his daemon was saying, and moved to nudge the door closed as Matthew came to a /"I would quite agree. Now, Mathieu, you are allowed to join us. I was simply teaching Alfred mathematics. I'm sure you'll pick up on it just fine. Come—take a seat. Maybe once we're done I can teach you about something interesting." This seemed to inspire even more wonder into Matthew which he quite promptly shared in a hushed tone with his daemon as he brought the rabbit up to his face and buried it into Ottium's fur momentarily. It brought the thought to Francis' mind that he really hadn't taught anything past the basics to Matthew. He had noted that the boy basically taught himself to read as well; a small pang of shame made Francis' brow /Alfred, with great haste, took a hold of Matthew's hand and led him over to the small table by the day seats that adorned the large windows of his study room. Francis was greatly amused to see the older boy pull a chair out for Matthew and even Lysimanche, who had taken the form of a small white furred monkey, was picking up Ottium carefully from where Matthew had set him on the table and stroking the little rabbit nicely. He should have expected Alfred to be absolutely smitten with Matthew to be honest. The boy was always bugging Francis, and sometimes even Britainny, about if there were other kids his age in the college. Granted, Matthew was three years younger than Alfred… but neither of them seemed to /Taking his seat across from the two boys, Francis watched his daemon slip under the table and up into the seat of the window. She placed her paws onto the table and watched the two smaller daemons closely as to make sure they played nice while Francis and the boys were /"Before all of this, Alfred, which of your tables were we going over?" Francis queried as he sifted through the mathematics books and papers that he had already had set out on the table. Alfred leaned forward onto the table, face cupped in his hands as he rested on his /"We were working on the six tables." Finally locating the flashcards they had been using earlier Francis gave a soft satisfied hum at Alfred's cooperation and looked to /"Mathieu, do not feel pressured to know all of this. The basic of multiplication is adding another unit of the number in question onto the base. Give me an example of this to show you understand." Matthew seemed struck for several moments before lowering his head and murmuring to himself in thought. Francis simply cleared his throat to remind Matthew that he needed to speak up. The boy looked up at this and blinked several /"It's like when things come in pairs… You start with two and with each pair added you have to bump the total up by two. So if you had six pairs you would have a dozen." Francis nodded, slightly impressed. Matthew was taking care of himself even without Francis holding his hand each step. As to be expected from such a careful attentive boy growing up among the greatest minds in the /"Using your example of two, can you tell me what ten times two is?" Alfred watched Matthew as the boy's head bowed again. It was only down a moment before he raised it again and gave his /"It's two tens?..."br /"Twenty- correct! Very good, Mathieu. Now keep this in mind while we do the six tables." Not noticing the strange look from Alfred at Matthew's answer, Francis waited until he had both boys' attention and raised the first flashcard. In big bold print it read '6 x 3'. Francis was almost startled when Alfred merely blurted out the answer with ease. Just prior it had been like pulling teeth to get an answer, much less one that was /"It's eighteen."br /"Excellent job, Alfred. Matthew do you think it's eighteen as well?" After thinking over it a moment and counting on his fingers a couple times the young boy nodded and agreed softly. The next flashcard was lifted after the first was set down, and Francis barely got a chance to think before Alfred said the answer /"The answer's fifty-four." Francis' eyes narrowed slightly as, ironically enough, two and two came together in his head. The prideful boasting look that Alfred had adopted as he tried to pretend he wasn't paying attention to the impressed look Matthew was giving him made too much sense. He was showing off. Of course this was to be expected. Alfred really was his father's son, wasn't he?br /"Mathieu, do not mind answer these next few. I just want to see something." The multiplication cards for the sixes were set aside as Francis picked up the sevens in their place. Sevens, as he recalled, had always stumped him as a child. Time to see just how far ahead Alfred was in comparison to what he let on. The first cardrose as '7 x 4' and the answer came /"It's twenty-eight!" And the next one rose right after the answer was given only to be met with another /"Forty-nine." Once /"Eighty-four." And with that Francis set the cards down and leaned back in his /"Recite your six tables and your sevens tables for me Alfred. In order." Alfred immediately responded to the challenge and started to rattle off the numbers with speed and excellent /"Six, twelve, eighteen, twenty-four, thirty, thirty-six, forty-two, forty-eight, fifty-four, sixty, sixty-six, seventy-two; seven, fourteen, twenty-one, twenty-eight, thirty-five, forty-two, forty-nine, fifty-six, sixty-three, seventy, seventy-seven, eighty-four." Matthew's eyes were wide at this point and Francis was sure that Alfred would burst with his own ego at any second now. Lysimanche was making pleased noises while playing with Ottium's ears, a reflection of what was going on between the two boys at the moment. Francis simply gave a look of sour contempt and laughed to himself as Britainny bopped Lysimanche on the head lightly, making the little daemon drop Ottium. The rabbit hopped back to Matthew quickly where he then morphed into a small green lizard which Francis identified as a gecko. Matthew took the lizard into his hands and raised him to his ear to listen to what the daemon had to /"Alfred, isn't it funny that you suddenly seem to know your most difficult multiplication tables now that Mathieu is here yet you fought tooth and nail over answering your' fives tables not even just around half an hour ago? I'll keep in mind to have him accompany on your lessons more often if it means you'll be displaying such progress." Britainny gave a loud rumbling noise from deep in her chest as Alfred turned pink in the face and his daemon abruptly transformed into a thrush and fled to his side. Francis merely clucked his tongue and turned back to /"Alright Mathieu—how about we start with the threes. If you get stumped I am sure Alfred will be eager to lend you an answer or two." The younger blond nodded eagerly, not even minding the fact that his daemon had crawled onto his cheek. Francis tucked some loose hairs back behind his ear, decidedly noting that he needed to retie his hair ribbon soon, and retrieved the threes table flashcards and shuffled them before raising one for the boy. The numbers read '3 x 9'.br /Matthew sat staring at the card, thinking it over silently, for several moments. Eventually he spoke up with an unsure but louder than usual /"Is the answer two tens and seven?"br /"Twenty-seven?" Francis countered with his eyebrows raised. Matthew nodded unsurely. It suddenly dawned on Francis that he had taught the younger boy how to count differently than he had taught Alfred to. That explained the strange answer; he hadn't even realized it before. He had learned how to count to ten and then combining the tens up to fifty. A number like ninety-three would be said as one fifty four tens and three. Not the most convenient way of counting but it worked well with the kind of work Matthew was usually doing in the kitchen and with the maids—that and Francis had been teaching Alfred how to read when he taught that to Matthew. Then again he was still teaching Alfred how to read. While the young Kirkland excelled at math, he had much to be desired in the literature /Fixing the way Matthew counted would have to be for another day. Now Francis just needed to go through the motions and let it happen as it happened. The boy was picking up on the math rather well even if he didn't count normally. As long as his answers were correct that didn't matter for the time being. Several more rounds of threes were gone over before Francis started on the fours only to be interrupted by Alfred bellyaching about being bored. It was then that Matthew looked from the two of them to the book that Francis had brought over that quite obviously had nothing to do with the math they were working /"Ah, excuse you too Alfred. We wouldn't want you to be getting bored now would we? Fine, I suppose that is enough maths for now. I see you eyeing that book, Mathieu—do not fret. I first wish to give the both of you sheets to work on tonight when you find the time. I expect to see them completed tomorrow morning by breakfast, understood? And Alfred, remember to put your name on your paper now that you are not the only student I will be teaching." The worksheets Francis had been sorting through were procured this time as he passed a simpler one to Matthew and a more advanced one to Alfred. Matthew very deliberately folded the paper up and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket while Alfred shoved his off to the side and shifted in his seat to sit on his /"Can we look at the book now, Sir Bonnefoy?" And back to /"Of course, Alfred. Try to keep the reins on your horses." Came the exasperated reply from Francis as he tugged the book across the surface of the desk and flipped it open to the table of contents. What to teach the boys about… Tracing his fingers over the table contents one chapter at a time, Francis quietly tried to decide on what exactly to entertain the boys with. Finally his fingertips found their way to a longer word with a translation next it—Panserbjorn; the Armored /That was perfect. A smile managed to find its way on Francis' face as he brought his thumb to his mouth and ran his tongue over it before he flipped to the page quickly and moved the book so both Alfred and Matthew could see it at the same time. Almost automatically he saw Matthew's eyes widen in awe and Alfred's face break into a grin. The pictures themselves were stunning—hand drawn; they were oiled and acryliced straight into the book itself. Nothing less was to be expected of a book taken straight from the libraries of Jordan. Francis simply let the boys looks at the pictures for now, watching Matthew reach a hand out to run it over the drawing of what was labeled as 'The King of the Panserbjorn; Berwald Oxenstierna'. The bear depicted was magnificent. Another picture near this was showcasing his great girth and volume compared to the average armored bear and then that of the regular bear and finally to that of a human. He was /Alfred had zeroed in on the next page already, being courteous of Matthew and not turning the paper completely- he marveled at the scene printed in stunning detail of two armored bears battling for supremacy. Maws wide open and gauntlets of their sky armor catching the light from both the sun and the light that reflected off the ice. A passage on their culture was nearby this illustration as well as a picture of a full set of armor which was labeled as 'The Sky Armor of Iorek the Great'. Once the two boys had made it far enough that pictures no longer satisfied them, they looked back to /"Panserbjorn—they're the armored bears of the Northern Realms, right? That's what the book said. They live on the ice." It was Matthew who spoke now, his daemon Ottium buzzing around his head in the shape of a hummingbird. He was obviously excited about these creatures and Francis thanked his lucky stars that Ottium wasn't occupying the shape of these awful beasts just yet. Alfred pointed to the pages insistently and gave a whine of /"Sir Bonnefoy, tell us more about them!" Francis hummed in amusement before giving a deep throaty laugh and raising a hand to shush the two kids as they started to plead with /"Now now boys, of course I'm going to tell you more about them. What good would I do to just show you the pictures, hm? Here, let's start from the beginning. Please turn the pages back and I'll walk you through the gist of it all. I'm sure if you want to revisit the topic, the book will be perfect practice for your reading." This was directed mostly at Alfred, as he knew that Matthew was already adept at reading and had been writing any chance he /"Ah, here we are. You were correct, Mathieu. Good job at pronouncing the name as well. These creatures are indeed the Panserbjorn and they live up in the far Northern Lands just a bit to the east of this land in the kingdom of Svalbard. They look much like bears, or Bears depending where you are looking, that you might find in the great forests and mountains elsewhere, but they're completely white and stand at astounding heights." There was a pause as Francis gestured to the depiction of the varying levels of heights that Matthew had been marveling at just /"The tallest of the recorded Panserbjorn race is King Berwald the Silent, who is said to stand taller than all previous kings and any armored bear that has ever lived before him. This height is recorded, as of several years ago, to be around two point eight meters. It is unknown if he has grown any taller or if the measurements are accurate." Matthew raised his hand at this point, such excitement and urgency written across his delicate facial features that Francis had no choice but to respond to /"Oui, Mathieu? Quoi?" The boy put his hand down and shifted forward and looked Francis dead in the eye with startling /"I want to meet Mister Berwald." Francis stayed silent for a moment before having to hold back a laugh at the sudden mental image of little Matthew standing next to such a gigantic creature. All bundled up in furs and skins with his hooded head tipped back as he rocked onto his heels just to look at the great bear king. When Alfred chimed in that he as well wanted to meet 'Mister Berwald' Francis almost choked on his own chortling. Britainny wasn't as discreet about her laughter and got a small challenging glare from Lysimanche for /"Of course, Mathieu. I'm sure 'Mister Berwald' wants to meet you as well." The innocent excitement that appeared on the young blond's face was a beautiful sight to see and reminded Francis' so strangely of the boy's mother that he had to blink several times to get the image of her out of his head. Matthew seemed pleased with this and sat back again, looking to Alfred excitedly. The older boy nudged him in the arm with a broad grin before tipping his head back to the /"Panserbjorn are known to be extremely aggressive and barbaric in nature compared to other sentient beings, but are also not easily tricked into believing lies or deceit. There have only been three known cases where a Panserbjorn has been tricked into something- the first Bear was unnamed, the second was with the late King Iorek Byrinson the Great, and the third was King Iofur Rakinson the Fool. Two out of three of these times were due to the use of a substance to deter the mental capabilities of these bears in question." Alfred was practically vibrating in his seat, eyes blown wide open, pupils dilated. He was absolutely awestruck with these creatures, it was obvious, but Matthew's wonder was of an entirely different magnitude. Francis looked at Britainny and then back to the boys before continuing /"Unlike humans, Panserbjorn lack daemons—" This prompted outraged gasps from the two children. Even at such a young age the two had learned it to be scandalous for things to just NOT have daemons, especially sentient things such as these bears. Francis raised a hand to shush the two as he continued on /"It's speculated that instead the second a Panserbjorn is capable of doing so they start to construct their infamous armor, known as Sky Armor in their culture; It is said the only time a bears armor will break is during their death or after they have died. This leads some to believe that the Panserbjorn is connected to their armor much like a human is connected to their daemon." This new information did nothing to help quiet the now jabbering blonds as they tried to keep their voices hushed enough as to not agitate their caretaker. Matthew, who knew only a bit more about daemons than Alfred did, was quick to start speculating about the armor and wondered if when it was touched it hurt the bear. But then, wouldn't it make rather shotty armor? Alfred dismissed the notion with the counterevidence Matthew had supplied for himself before raising the thought that perhaps the armor was, much like how daemons were, the physical manifestation of the Panserbjorn soul forged by their own hands—er, paws. Francis interrupted them with a loud 'ahem' and a raised eyebrow that finally quieted them again for the time being. It was a good thing he hadn't picked to tell them about Witches. He could only image what kind of Hell they'd raise over the notion that people would willingly separate themselves from their /"The majority of the Panserbjorn race appears to be male dominated, but it is known that females exist—for reproductive purposes at least. Where or how they live is unknown as they seem particularly reclusive and do not rest with the male counterparts of their kind." It seemed the mystery only seemed to grow for the two young boys. The more Francis told them the more theories their minds were racing to concoct. That and the images of Berwald Oxenstierna were firmly implanted into their hyperactive /"The male youth of the Panserbjorn are often killed very soon after their birth—whether by their own male sibling, their father, the extreme climate, or mercifully by their own mother due to some sort of crippling defect or abnormality that would hinder them in basic survival. Growing up, the armored bears face extreme brutality both from their own kind as well as their environment. This all ensure that only the strongest of the Panserbjorn survive." It was at this time that somewhere off in the distance, a great clock chimed the hour and played a long loud melody. The three sat in silence, listening to it carefully to count the chimes of the hour. When the sound finally ceased, Francis snapped the book closed and slid it over to Matthew slowly. Alfred watched with a sharp but momentary look of jealousy before quickly cooling back down and letting Matthew take the book hesitantly without /"It is time for me to return to my own studies. You two may continue reading about the bears if you would like, but do not forget to do your worksheets—Oh! Alfred," Francis stopped suddenly as he was standing, pulling his hair out of its ribbon and retying it /"Do try not to get into any trouble. Your daemon speaks to you for a reason you know. Take care, little ones!" And with that Francis went sweeping from the room quickly, robes half pulled back on as he left and Britainny loping along after as the door was closed. The second the two were sure the older man was gone, they turned to one another. Alfred already had a mischievous grin in place on his face, and Matthew wasn't sure what to do other than open and close his mouth wordlessly. Finally after several long moments of silence Matthew managed to find words to /"Wow... Wow!" Alfred erupted into joyous laughter and nodded excitedly along. The laughter spread to Lysimanche, who had now taken on the form of a coyote and was pouncing around the floor energetically. As the two sprung from their seats, the book set aside and imagination taken up in arms, Ottium lept from Matthew and transformed. White fur erupted from feather and the fan-like tail shrunk to a stub as a broad set of shoulders and a large tapered head were brought straight off the pages and into the /"Look, look! Doesn't he look just like the picture of Iorek in the book, Matthew?" Alfred had to contain himself immensely to not jump forth and run his hands through Ottium's fur. It would do no good. That kind of stuff was outlawed in the most universal of ways. It would be just wrong, but watching Matthew carding his fingers into the thick fur as Ottium gave a low short bellow was just enough to satisfy Alfred before he turned to Lysimanche expectantly. The currently canine formed daemon didn't mimic the other's form but rather took to swinging her haunches and pouncing on the great beast that Ottium had become. Matthew clapped his hands and gave a light trill of laughter as Ottium pretended to be wounded and fell comically to the floor with a heavy /"He does, he really does! Otti, say something Iorek would say—please, please, please!" The polar bear daemon gave a long chortling noise as he rolled around on the ground careful not to squish Lysimanche beneath his newfound girth before standing up and rearing clumsily onto his back legs, large forepaws dashing out at the empty /"My name is Iorek Byrinson and I am the great king of the armored bears! All should tremble before me!" Of course this was all for dramatics, but it thrilled the two blonds beyond belief as they clapped at the performance and then dissolved into new fits of laughter over Lysimanche crawling up Ottium's back. The fun and the games lasted for hours afterwards as the boys switched between looking in the book, avidly making up fantasies over what they were reading, and playing pretend with their daemons as stand in actors. One could say that all in all, it almost seemed like the two clicked automatically as friends. Could be on account that both had been so eager to have someone, anyone, to play around with other than themselves; some might wax philosophical and say it was meant for them to be /All in all the merriment eventually came to an end as the hours ticked by and the two boys wore one another out with their frivolity. When Francis finally found time to come back and make sure that the boys were still in the room he found that not only were they there but they were asleep. The two were huddled together in the window, leaned against one another with their daemons sitting comfortably in their laps. Francis looked to Britainny who was giving the usual cryptic smile that she was so famous for before crossing the room to go and retrieve Matthew. He wasn't sure how to do so without waking Alfred; given Alfred slept like a log Francis ended up not having too much difficulty picking Matthew up and carrying him away. Britainny carried Ottium, who had taken the form of a black cat, in her mouth carefully seeing as Francis wasn't allowed to touch the little boy's /The trip to where Matthew resided was a long one and Francis feared that the boy would wake up upon entering the cold of the dimming evening. Luckily for the lot of them the little blond merely stirred in discomfort and burrowed his face into Francis' chest as he twisted his torso to hide from the chill. A light mist of a drizzle started to fall right as Francis made it to the building in question and he was thankful to have gotten out of it in time if not a bit bitter he would have to back out into it. At least it would make for a pretty, if not chilly, stroll back. Upon entering the building a soft chime sounded which was meant to alert the others in the place that someone had entered. Almost automatically a stout woman with graying brown hair came waddling from somewhere nearby and halted abruptly when she saw Francis, giving a little bow. Automatically her daemon, what appeared to be an Olde English Bulldogge, came trotting up to her heels and stood there staring silently at Britainny. The two adults stood in silence before Francis broke out into a smile and shook his /"Mademoiselle Jovanneson," Francis started with a playfully exasperated tone to his voice. "There is no need for the formalities! Please, come here. Alfred managed to whisk Matthew away today somehow… He is rather tired. If you would not mind putting him to bed?" Missus Jovanneson, otherwise known as Mikyla Jovanneson, was a middle aged heavy set woman with thinning hair and baggy wrinkles tugging at her face; by damn if she wasn't one of the best women Francis had ever met. Wiping her hands on her half-off apron, Mikyla paced over to Francis with a relieved smile on her grooved face and held out her arms for Francis to pass Matthew to her. Despite her short stature and her otherwise deceiving appearance, Mikyla took hold of Matthew easily. Holding the boy to her rather flat chest she looked down at her daemon, Maximus, carefully taking Ottium from Britainny's /Once the exchange was completed the scholar looked over Matthew once last time before reaching downward, hand finding Britainny's head easily and running over it for reassurance. Today had definitely been an interesting day, he couldn't deny it that. Now to see what the consequences of it all were. While Mikyla turned, starting off in the opposite direction with her daemon trotting along after her dutifully, Francis lingered a little longer before a soft noise and nudge from Britainny turned him away and he backed out into the cold. Mikyla continued on while Francis left, not even bothering to pause to wish him a final goodbye, as she had a task at hand- Taking Matthew to bed. Which was not a difficult task in the slightest but more so one that Mikyla found herself musing over. Mikyla had always loved kids and she had served as a nanny much a time in her youth before she managed to land a spot in Oxford as a servant of the house. Long ago she'd had dreams of settling in and starting a little family but those dreams had been dashed when she found she herself could not bear children. Her husband at the time had gone off and eloped with another more fertile woman at this revelation and left Mikyla alone with a bruised heart and an empty /The woman had eventually mended herself to the point she could look back on the event and firmly say to herself that she was by no means in the wrong and was not to blame for any of it. Especially not when this ex-husband's wedding coach ended up in flames and his prized coaching horses stolen. No siree, she had absolutely nothing to do with the selling of a prized coaching horse. Nuh-uh. Not a clue what you could be referring to. So now in her later years, Mikyla sometimes liked to think that Matthew was a bit like that grandson she'd never gotten. She'd helped Francis care for the boy when he was a wee thing, just a babe, and was now in charge of keeping an eye on him now that he was older. Not that it always worked but everybody who knew Matthew knew he was a fairly mild mannered child who rarely ever got his nose stuck in the wrong kind of business. That was what they all liked about /Upon arriving to Matthew's room, which wasn't really much of a room as more of a large closet, Mikyla sighed. This was always the hard part. She was a short woman, but not a petite one. Trying to fit into the cramped space to tuck Matthew in had always proved difficult for Mikyla though even now she did with what could be tacked off as practiced ease and shuffled her way to the cot that Matthew slept on. A rather plush blanket, swiped from a long deceased scholar's room of all places, was the only luxury things in the entire room. It made the bed feel safer, warmer, and a lot more inviting than just the thin mattress and equally thin sheets and flimsy pillow. Setting Matthew down slowly Mikyla pulled the blanket up to his chest and ran a hand over his hair with a smile. While she did do, Maximus propped his front paws upon the edge of the cot and settled Ottium down by the still snoozing blond carefully, making sure not to accidentally nose him while he pushed the sleeping daemon closer to their /"Sweet dreams, little one." Mikyla murmured before she turned carefully and exited the room. Maximus followed silently after her, not wishing to disturb anybody with his barking. Once out of the room and having closed the door Mikyla finally fully removed her apron and slung it over her shoulder with a deep long yawn that Maximus mirrored not too soon afterwards. She cast a humored look down at her daemon and started on her way to her own chambers while enjoying the quietness of the building. On the way there she passed by a few of the other servants making their own last few chores up or wandering around in their night clothes with glasses of water or wringing their nightcaps in their hands. It was no wonder some would find themselves sleepless. The great politician and warrior Lord Kirkland would be making home to Oxford soon and he had insisted on coming to the college to check upon his young nephew and to speak with the scholars of some sort of important matters. Mikyla cared not for it. She was a simpleton with no mind for the high arts such as science after /Finally making it to her own quarters the aging woman found herself disrobing absently and slowly putting on her nightgown without really paying too much mind to the whole process. Maximus went to get comfortable, leaping up and onto the bed and circling into his usual spot where he knew his partner would soon be resting as well. Watching her daemon as she righted her gown collar, Mikyla had to wonder to herself despite all previous thoughts as to what Lord Kirkland had discovered now. It was likely something important as always; there were no small discoveries when it came to that man. Finally slipping into her bed, Mikyla Jovanneson threw an arm over her daemon and buried her face into his fur with a deep exhale. Whatever was to come would come, she thought in her last few moments of wakefulness. And it would come./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.1199998855591px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The day had been a mellow one, a few occasional drizzles of rain passed overhead every other hour—this was expected in the month of April. A nippy breeze periodically blew in to surprise those wandering about in their short dusters and boots. One of these people going about their business was a petite young boy with chin length straw blonde hair that curled gently around his soft porcelain face. He had large doe-esque blue-lavender eyes framed by long dark-blonde eyelashes. Small pink lips puckered in concentration as the boy pulled his worn down light blue blazer closed tighter as a gust of cold air blew past him and danced over his cheeks, tinting them a delicate shade of red. This little boy was none other than Matthew Bonnefoy; currently he was taking out the slop to the small group of pigs in the agriculture areas of the /He had no qualms with doing this chore, in all honestly. Matthew enjoyed helping out around as much as possible. It definitely gave him something to do other than sit around and idle the days away. He just wished he perhaps had somebody to do his chores with other than the kitchen maids and the occasional butler. As far the boy was aware, there were no other children lodging in Jordan other than himself—thus he had ended up entertaining himself most often by going to the library or sitting outside the lecture halls and listening to the drone of the professors over subjects no right-minded eight year old would have any interest /So now here he was barely protected against the unusually chilly wind and trying to drag this awfully heavy bucket of slop and rinds to the pig pens. Just as he was about to sigh for perhaps the fifth time in a row, a voice near his ear piped /"Would you stop sighing so much? Maybe if you stop releasing so much hot air you won't be so cold." What might have been mistaken for a fur collar suddenly moved and stuck its pointed furry muzzle into the cold air, small black nose twitching as the animal spoke. Matthew ended up sighing anyways and rolled his eyes slightly. The white ermine around his neck made a noise of indignation as it shifted off of Matthew's neck and abruptly morphed into a grey goose fledgling right before Matthew's eyes. He did not seem too surprised at this; after all, this was his /The creature flapped around Matthew's head for several moments as the boy pulled the collar of his coat up (due to the lack of previous warmth now missing from his neck) before settling on his shoulder and fluffing its feathers /"I would stop sighing if I could, Otti—I really would. You know why!" A slight uncharacteristic whine threatened to edge to prominence in Matthew's tone as his daemon, Ottium, blinked his beady eyes twice before releasing a sigh of his own. The blond gave a couple more tugs of the slop bucket before finally arriving to the pig pens. Ottium took flight and landed on the fencing as the pigs came trotting out to the trough. Matthew, with great difficulty, managed to get the bucket over his head and start to tip it precariously over the edge of the fence. Just as he was getting up on his tiptoes to tip the bucket further, another set of hands suddenly grasped the bucket and pushed it farther for /"Here, let me help!" Matthew gasped deeply in surprise, hands darting away from the bucket as it ended up tipped all the way over the fence sending slop everywhere as it fell and rattled down into the metal trough. Slipping out from under an unidentified arm Matthew turned around as Ottium dived down from a short ways up in the sky and hit the ground in the form of a ravenous wildcat, fur along his spine bristling and emerald green eyes bright. Matthew, having been startled beyond belief, was even more surprised to see that the person who had come up behind him was a boy. Not a man, one might stress, but a boy. As in a /The boy before him was around a foot taller than he was which was a dead- ringer was that he was older than Matthew. He had short straight golden blonde hair that was cut around his ears and parted off to the right in an attempt to look neat. Sadly a cowlick standing up from his part line ruined the whole effect. Wide bright baby blue eyes looked from Ottium to Matthew in surprise as the boy's own daemon, who had taken the form of a large canine, bristled at /"Lysi, calm down would you?" Ottium gave a long low hiss before morphing into a common house cat and skittering to hide behind Matthew's trembling legs. The other boy's daemon gave what looked like a grin before backing over to her human with a soft murmur. In the meantime the boy had adopted a rather sheepish smile on his tanned face which revealed a pearly set of mismatched baby and adult /"Hey, I'm sorry if I scared you… I saw you from up there," As the boy pointed Matthew followed with his eyes to a set of windows on the third story of one of the nearby buildings. "And, well, I've never seen any other kids here and you looked like you were having trouble so… I came down to help!" There was a pause as the boy's eyes flit to the mess they'd made of the troughs before his face reddened a bit and his gaze fell to the /"I guess I sort of did more harm than good though…" Matthew just blinked silently, unsure of what to say to this other kid who had magically come from seemingly nowhere. There really was another kid here at Jordan? And he looked like he was being mentored under the scholars judging by his rather proper and new looking attire. When Matthew's silence was prolonged, another voice broke into the /"I think she's a mute, Alfred." Automatically the boy, who Matthew could now tell was called Alfred, gave an almost insulted look at the notion. Even as Matthew was opening his mouth to correct the daemon and say he was a boy, Ottium pushed his head between Matthew's legs and glared at the other /"Excuse you! Matthew is not a she!" Alfred jolted a bit when Ottium talked and looked from the daemon to Matthew before the wheels started turning in his /"Wait, your daemon is the same as you? Wow that's actually kind of cool! Uh—but right! I'm Alfred if you couldn't have guessed. This is Lysimanche, but I just call her Lysi." Alfred gave another fuller smile and shoved a hand out to /"Your name is Matthew? That's a nice name! Sorry for thinking you were a girl by the way. You're just sort of small for a guy is all." Ottium grumbled something under his breath as Matthew frowned vaguely and looked Alfred up and down before very slowly reaching a hand out to shake Alfred' /"It's very nice to meet you." When the younger boy spoke Alfred's brow furrowed and he leaned in, eyes /"What?"br /"I said, it's very nice to meet you." Now hearing Matthew clearly, Alfred nodded and gave the boy's hand a squeeze before letting go and patting Lysimanche gently as she suddenly lighted upon his shoulder in the form of a young red-tailed /"It's cool to meet you too! So, this means we're friends now right?" Matthew looked down at Ottium at the question. The daemon shrugged his shoulders and sat down and lazily started to lick a paw and drag it over his face. The smaller blond ended up looking down and tugging at his sleeves idly as he tried to find out what to say. He moved back as Alfred crouched down to look him in the /"You're pretty shy aren't you? I knew you weren't mute though! That's just Lysi being mean. I promise she's actually really nice. But hey, we don't have to be friends if you don't want to! We can be ac… acquint… acquient…."br /"Acquaintances?..."br /"Yeah that word! You're smart too huh? Blah, I'm not really about the brains thing. I'm pretty strong though." Matthew tilted his head at Alfred's blabbering and watched Lysimanche puff up with pride. Quite out of the blue Ottium jumped up into his arms in the form of a lemur, and the sight of the creature made Alfred ogle and gasp in /"Whoa, that's a cool animal! What is it?" It was Matthew's daemon's turn to fill with pride. Truth be told, Ottium loved to shift into obscure animal forms just to help Matthew show off how many different animals he knew about from reading about them in the scholars /"It's a ring tailed lemur. They're native to this really newly discovered island off the coast of the African continent and they live in these really big jungles where it rains a lot… and they eat these really weird fruits and—" Matthew fell silent abruptly and simply pet Ottium as he clung to the blonds' chest and chattered softly. In a not so inconspicuous way, Lysimanche had copied Ottium form except with longer fur and a fluffier tail. Alfred barely noticed his daemon's form at the moment and instead simply stared at Matthew as if he'd started speaking in another /"You really are smart." He stated dumbly, eyebrows arched up in an almost daunted way. Matthew managed a small smile and hugged his daemon to his chest with a humble /"I read a lot is all. Or, at least when I can." Ottium spoke up noisily at this /"You read all the time, even when you're not supposed to! That's how you got dishwater on that one history book!" Alfred simply laughed good-heartedly as Matthew's face flared /"Dishwater, huh? Where were you that you got dishwater on a book?"br /"I was doing the dishes in the kitchen…" A soft groan came from Lysimanche as she shifted back into the form of a red-tailed hawk, seeming to grow bored of being a /"Yeah, no duh Alfred! He's some servant boy after all." Alfred seemingly ignored Lysi as he nodded /"Right… Hey, it's really cold out here. Do you want to go inside now? I can introduce you to my tutor! You sort of remind me of him—you both have really pretty hair." Alfred reached out to grab Matthew by the hand, catching the boy by surprise with the compliment as he let himself be tugged along as he struggled to keep up with Alfred's larger /"You think my hair is pretty?" Sadly, Alfred did not hear his question and simply kept tugging Matthew along over to the building the younger boy could assume that the older had come from in the first place. Casting a worried glance back to the abandoned bucket and spewed slop, which was now mostly gone due to the pigs eating a good bit of it, Matthew faintly wondered if Francis would be mad at him for not completing his /Reentering the building was a relief on Matthew's chilled skin, and he gently tugged his hand from Alfred's and rubbed it with his other as he looked around. It wasn't often he came into this building without Francis' supervision. This was where the scholars tended to do most of their work after all. Or at least that's what the man had told /"Do you live here?" Matthew muttered as Ottium turned into a small grey mouse and burrowed into his shirt. Alfred looked around before turning back to Matthew; Lysimanche circled around the two of them impressively for such limited /"Did you ask if I lived here?" Alfred questioned with a couple rapid blinks. Lysimanche circled tightly round Matthew's head causing the boy to recoil before the bird went back and landed on Alfred's shoulder. Ottium gave an insulted noise from within the younger boy's clothes and mocked the other daemon as she /"Well of course we live here you dumpy. Where else would we live?" Her words didn't have as much bite as they previously had, but it didn't make Matthew feel any better; he could feel his ears burning red with sour embarrassment. Alfred made a displeased face and reached out a hand to nudge Matthew's /"Yeah, I live here! It's pretty cool, but it's also really boring. Well, until my uncle comes to visit! Then everything really comes to life and sometimes he stops by to see how I'm doing in my studies. But come on! We need to get to my room. I'm pretty sure Sir Bonnefoy is back from that break he took." Alfred turned away from Matthew before the young boy's eyes could even widen in disbelief. Once more the boy was being dragged along by Alfred, trying to get his attention only to have Lysimanche stare at him imprudently. Against his better judgment he made a face at the currently avian daemon and watched in satisfaction as her feather fluffed up in insult. Sir Bonnefoy, Alfred had said. Was it really possible he was talking about Mister Francis?br /Matthew almost fell flat on his face as Alfred suddenly took a sharp turn and started to ascend a steep flight of stairs two at a time with impossible ease. Matthew on the other hand was not experienced with stairs, at least none this long or steep, and ended up having to put his hand on the railing and take them carefully one at a time while Alfred jittered impatiently at the top of the staircase. Several scholars going about their business casts glances at the two children. Most were familiar with the presence of Alfred but expressed the slightest twinge of bewilderment at the sudden appearance of another child. Some of the more senile might even mutter to themselves and their daemons about 'just how many children are they allowing in Jordan nowadays' or 'pesky brats'. These were the kind of people we will forfeit from the Secret Santa for they are, in fact, assholes of the most unprecedented degree that would with no doubt give a sarcastic thank you for the gift you get them. What a bunch of /Besides the presence of these individuals judging them from afar, Matthew and Alfred climbed one more flight of stairs before Matthew raced after Alfred down a hall way where he borderline crashed into the older boy when he came to an abrupt halt outside of a semi-opened door. Shushing Matthew noisily, Alfred turned to look into the room as Lysimanche took the form of a small canary and nested down into the boy's hair. Matthew wiggled his way in to peek through the crack as well and spotted exactly who he had expected to see standing in the room pacing with an impressive looking lioness at his /Francis Bonnefoy was never one to get too annoyed with the boys under his care, but he must admit that at times Alfred sure did grate his cheese something fierce. He knew the boy would be back any second now—he wasn't a dumb child. He knew his limits. He just hoped that the boy wasn't dragging another muddied dog or half dead bird in with /"Francois, they are here." Britainny spoke up softly, ears swiveled to the door as her great head swung to face the same direction. Francis followed her gaze, tucking a strange of gold blond hair back behind his ear as his blue eyes narrowed. They only sprung back open in shock as Alfred entered with not a dog or a bird but with another child. In the loosest terms, Alfred had just walked in with Francis' child. They are here, she had said. And there they were /"Mathieu?" Francis paced over to the boys as they stood in the now open doorway, their daemons meek in the presence of his own as she lazily padded over to them with her tail swaying to and fro. The littler of the two boys nodded furiously as if agreeing with Francis that that was in fact his name. Alfred simply seemed /"What is this? I thought I told you to go feed the piglets, not show up at random here where you are not supposed to be." Francis chided gently, kneeling down and cupping the boy's face in his hand as he ran his thumb over his cheeks. Matthew said nothing but his brow knit together and Francis could see Ottium, nothing but a shivering lump, hiding in Matthew's shirt. It was then that Alfred spoke up loudly as to make sure Francis heard /"I brought him here! How come you didn't tell me there was another kid here, Sir Bonnefoy? And how come he knows you? Is he your nephew?" Matthew opened his mouth to say something only to be hushed by Francis' finger. Lysimanche took flight off Alfred's head and flittered over to rest upon Britainny's instead, pecking at the lioness' ears /"Well, it was simply something that did not cross my mind, Alfred. Thank you for telling me it was you who had brought him here." A pause broke in as Francis watched Lysimanche pestering his daemon before turning his attention back to the boys. "I am not just the man your uncle wanted to take care of you. Mathieu is a relative of mine yes… but I would not say am his uncle; I have been taking care of him as well as you. Is that enough for you, hm?" Alfred seemed satisfied with these answers, gaze lazily shifting to watch his daemon picking at the lioness' ears. Just as Alfred perked up a particularly careless peck made Britainny growl in pain and as result made Francis' /"Are his parents dead too?" The brash question made Matthew's eyes widen as he looked from Alfred to Francis, his jaw dropped in disbelief at the inquiry. Ottium crawled out from Matthew's shirt in the form of a cockroach and, peculiarly enough, started to hiss at Alfred. Francis scowled and Britainny gently batted Lysimanche off of her head as she walked in a couple of frustrated circles and looked to Francis as if waiting to see how he would /"Alfred, you cannot just ask such questions and you are well aware of this. What would you uncle have said if he'd heard you say that?" Alfred shrugged and looked away with apparent disinterest as Lysimanche landed back on his shoulder, but by her slightly distressed twittering it was apparent he knew he had done something /"It was just a question. And I don't think he'd care very much. He never talks about dad anyways." Matthew, who now had the beginnings of tears in his eyes,was not comforted by Alfred's response at all. Francis pursed his lips and cleared his throat. This automatically caught the older boy's attention and the stern gaze of the lioness next to him was enough to make Lysimanche fall completely silent on Alfred's /"Apologize to Mathieu, Alfred." The words came out solid and sure sounding. It was a tone that Matthew had honestly never heard to this day—partly because he had never done anything to have to face that tone. He was a very tame child after all. Matthew shifted to look up at Alfred, and the second his bleary eyes met the older boy's an apology tumbled from his lips and a small sad tweet was heard from Lysimanche as well. Ottium quickly changed into the form of a jasper brown rabbit and slipped down into Matthew's arm now that he was content. Matthew managed a wet smile that made a small one tweak on Alfred's lips in turn as Francis released a deep exhale and patted the two /"Well, I suppose I will be looking after the both of you, again, from now on oui? How tedious. I can already feel the bags under my eyes from all the sleepless nights! Comment contrariant…" Francis stood from his kneeling position now as Britainny moved to rub against his legs /"Quoi à propos son père, François?" The daemon spoke softly in French, as to throw the other two boys and their daemons off as to what the two of them were speaking of. Judging by the evident confusion from the two it had worked. Francis felt a sharp spike of worry pierce his chest at the thought of having to deal with that talk this /"For another day, Britainny. Another day." And at that, Francis dropped the topic and returned his attention back to the task at hand. Now with a weary heart, the man looked over Matthew and Alfred. The two were watching each other in almost sheer fascination. It was no surprise. The closest thing either had seen to another child was pictures in story books or hazy figures playing ball outside of the gates of the university. Very tentatively, Alfred reached out a hand to touch Matthew's hair and in turn the younger boy hesitantly extended his own out to prod Alfred on the stomach and chest. It almost made Francis start laughing. He'd never seen a stranger pair of /"Excusez-moi, you two- Before we start a game of doctor, might I suggest we return to Alfred's lesson?" Hands were retracted quickly as Alfred groaned slightly and Francis arched up a brow as Matthew turned to leave. Before the man could even question him, Alfred's daemon got to the whip crack and spoke /"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Alfred nodded, for once listening to what his daemon was saying, and moved to nudge the door closed as Matthew came to a /"I would quite agree. Now, Mathieu, you are allowed to join us. I was simply teaching Alfred mathematics. I'm sure you'll pick up on it just fine. Come—take a seat. Maybe once we're done I can teach you about something interesting." This seemed to inspire even more wonder into Matthew which he quite promptly shared in a hushed tone with his daemon as he brought the rabbit up to his face and buried it into Ottium's fur momentarily. It brought the thought to Francis' mind that he really hadn't taught anything past the basics to Matthew. He had noted that the boy basically taught himself to read as well; a small pang of shame made Francis' brow /Alfred, with great haste, took a hold of Matthew's hand and led him over to the small table by the day seats that adorned the large windows of his study room. Francis was greatly amused to see the older boy pull a chair out for Matthew and even Lysimanche, who had taken the form of a small white furred monkey, was picking up Ottium carefully from where Matthew had set him on the table and stroking the little rabbit nicely. He should have expected Alfred to be absolutely smitten with Matthew to be honest. The boy was always bugging Francis, and sometimes even Britainny, about if there were other kids his age in the college. Granted, Matthew was three years younger than Alfred… but neither of them seemed to /Taking his seat across from the two boys, Francis watched his daemon slip under the table and up into the seat of the window. She placed her paws onto the table and watched the two smaller daemons closely as to make sure they played nice while Francis and the boys were /"Before all of this, Alfred, which of your tables were we going over?" Francis queried as he sifted through the mathematics books and papers that he had already had set out on the table. Alfred leaned forward onto the table, face cupped in his hands as he rested on his /"We were working on the six tables." Finally locating the flashcards they had been using earlier Francis gave a soft satisfied hum at Alfred's cooperation and looked to /"Mathieu, do not feel pressured to know all of this. The basic of multiplication is adding another unit of the number in question onto the base. Give me an example of this to show you understand." Matthew seemed struck for several moments before lowering his head and murmuring to himself in thought. Francis simply cleared his throat to remind Matthew that he needed to speak up. The boy looked up at this and blinked several /"It's like when things come in pairs… You start with two and with each pair added you have to bump the total up by two. So if you had six pairs you would have a dozen." Francis nodded, slightly impressed. Matthew was taking care of himself even without Francis holding his hand each step. As to be expected from such a careful attentive boy growing up among the greatest minds in the /"Using your example of two, can you tell me what ten times two is?" Alfred watched Matthew as the boy's head bowed again. It was only down a moment before he raised it again and gave his /"It's two tens?..."br /"Twenty- correct! Very good, Mathieu. Now keep this in mind while we do the six tables." Not noticing the strange look from Alfred at Matthew's answer, Francis waited until he had both boys' attention and raised the first flashcard. In big bold print it read '6 x 3'. Francis was almost startled when Alfred merely blurted out the answer with ease. Just prior it had been like pulling teeth to get an answer, much less one that was /"It's eighteen."br /"Excellent job, Alfred. Matthew do you think it's eighteen as well?" After thinking over it a moment and counting on his fingers a couple times the young boy nodded and agreed softly. The next flashcard was lifted after the first was set down, and Francis barely got a chance to think before Alfred said the answer /"The answer's fifty-four." Francis' eyes narrowed slightly as, ironically enough, two and two came together in his head. The prideful boasting look that Alfred had adopted as he tried to pretend he wasn't paying attention to the impressed look Matthew was giving him made too much sense. He was showing off. Of course this was to be expected. Alfred really was his father's son, wasn't he?br /"Mathieu, do not mind answer these next few. I just want to see something." The multiplication cards for the sixes were set aside as Francis picked up the sevens in their place. Sevens, as he recalled, had always stumped him as a child. Time to see just how far ahead Alfred was in comparison to what he let on. The first cardrose as '7 x 4' and the answer came /"It's twenty-eight!" And the next one rose right after the answer was given only to be met with another /"Forty-nine." Once /"Eighty-four." And with that Francis set the cards down and leaned back in his /"Recite your six tables and your sevens tables for me Alfred. In order." Alfred immediately responded to the challenge and started to rattle off the numbers with speed and excellent /"Six, twelve, eighteen, twenty-four, thirty, thirty-six, forty-two, forty-eight, fifty-four, sixty, sixty-six, seventy-two; seven, fourteen, twenty-one, twenty-eight, thirty-five, forty-two, forty-nine, fifty-six, sixty-three, seventy, seventy-seven, eighty-four." Matthew's eyes were wide at this point and Francis was sure that Alfred would burst with his own ego at any second now. Lysimanche was making pleased noises while playing with Ottium's ears, a reflection of what was going on between the two boys at the moment. Francis simply gave a look of sour contempt and laughed to himself as Britainny bopped Lysimanche on the head lightly, making the little daemon drop Ottium. The rabbit hopped back to Matthew quickly where he then morphed into a small green lizard which Francis identified as a gecko. Matthew took the lizard into his hands and raised him to his ear to listen to what the daemon had to /"Alfred, isn't it funny that you suddenly seem to know your most difficult multiplication tables now that Mathieu is here yet you fought tooth and nail over answering your' fives tables not even just around half an hour ago? I'll keep in mind to have him accompany on your lessons more often if it means you'll be displaying such progress." Britainny gave a loud rumbling noise from deep in her chest as Alfred turned pink in the face and his daemon abruptly transformed into a thrush and fled to his side. Francis merely clucked his tongue and turned back to /"Alright Mathieu—how about we start with the threes. If you get stumped I am sure Alfred will be eager to lend you an answer or two." The younger blond nodded eagerly, not even minding the fact that his daemon had crawled onto his cheek. Francis tucked some loose hairs back behind his ear, decidedly noting that he needed to retie his hair ribbon soon, and retrieved the threes table flashcards and shuffled them before raising one for the boy. The numbers read '3 x 9'.br /Matthew sat staring at the card, thinking it over silently, for several moments. Eventually he spoke up with an unsure but louder than usual /"Is the answer two tens and seven?"br /"Twenty-seven?" Francis countered with his eyebrows raised. Matthew nodded unsurely. It suddenly dawned on Francis that he had taught the younger boy how to count differently than he had taught Alfred to. That explained the strange answer; he hadn't even realized it before. He had learned how to count to ten and then combining the tens up to fifty. A number like ninety-three would be said as one fifty four tens and three. Not the most convenient way of counting but it worked well with the kind of work Matthew was usually doing in the kitchen and with the maids—that and Francis had been teaching Alfred how to read when he taught that to Matthew. Then again he was still teaching Alfred how to read. While the young Kirkland excelled at math, he had much to be desired in the literature /Fixing the way Matthew counted would have to be for another day. Now Francis just needed to go through the motions and let it happen as it happened. The boy was picking up on the math rather well even if he didn't count normally. As long as his answers were correct that didn't matter for the time being. Several more rounds of threes were gone over before Francis started on the fours only to be interrupted by Alfred bellyaching about being bored. It was then that Matthew looked from the two of them to the book that Francis had brought over that quite obviously had nothing to do with the math they were working /"Ah, excuse you too Alfred. We wouldn't want you to be getting bored now would we? Fine, I suppose that is enough maths for now. I see you eyeing that book, Mathieu—do not fret. I first wish to give the both of you sheets to work on tonight when you find the time. I expect to see them completed tomorrow morning by breakfast, understood? And Alfred, remember to put your name on your paper now that you are not the only student I will be teaching." The worksheets Francis had been sorting through were procured this time as he passed a simpler one to Matthew and a more advanced one to Alfred. Matthew very deliberately folded the paper up and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket while Alfred shoved his off to the side and shifted in his seat to sit on his /"Can we look at the book now, Sir Bonnefoy?" And back to /"Of course, Alfred. Try to keep the reins on your horses." Came the exasperated reply from Francis as he tugged the book across the surface of the desk and flipped it open to the table of contents. What to teach the boys about… Tracing his fingers over the table contents one chapter at a time, Francis quietly tried to decide on what exactly to entertain the boys with. Finally his fingertips found their way to a longer word with a translation next it—Panserbjorn; the Armored /That was perfect. A smile managed to find its way on Francis' face as he brought his thumb to his mouth and ran his tongue over it before he flipped to the page quickly and moved the book so both Alfred and Matthew could see it at the same time. Almost automatically he saw Matthew's eyes widen in awe and Alfred's face break into a grin. The pictures themselves were stunning—hand drawn; they were oiled and acryliced straight into the book itself. Nothing less was to be expected of a book taken straight from the libraries of Jordan. Francis simply let the boys looks at the pictures for now, watching Matthew reach a hand out to run it over the drawing of what was labeled as 'The King of the Panserbjorn; Berwald Oxenstierna'. The bear depicted was magnificent. Another picture near this was showcasing his great girth and volume compared to the average armored bear and then that of the regular bear and finally to that of a human. He was /Alfred had zeroed in on the next page already, being courteous of Matthew and not turning the paper completely- he marveled at the scene printed in stunning detail of two armored bears battling for supremacy. Maws wide open and gauntlets of their sky armor catching the light from both the sun and the light that reflected off the ice. A passage on their culture was nearby this illustration as well as a picture of a full set of armor which was labeled as 'The Sky Armor of Iorek the Great'. Once the two boys had made it far enough that pictures no longer satisfied them, they looked back to /"Panserbjorn—they're the armored bears of the Northern Realms, right? That's what the book said. They live on the ice." It was Matthew who spoke now, his daemon Ottium buzzing around his head in the shape of a hummingbird. He was obviously excited about these creatures and Francis thanked his lucky stars that Ottium wasn't occupying the shape of these awful beasts just yet. Alfred pointed to the pages insistently and gave a whine of /"Sir Bonnefoy, tell us more about them!" Francis hummed in amusement before giving a deep throaty laugh and raising a hand to shush the two kids as they started to plead with /"Now now boys, of course I'm going to tell you more about them. What good would I do to just show you the pictures, hm? Here, let's start from the beginning. Please turn the pages back and I'll walk you through the gist of it all. I'm sure if you want to revisit the topic, the book will be perfect practice for your reading." This was directed mostly at Alfred, as he knew that Matthew was already adept at reading and had been writing any chance he /"Ah, here we are. You were correct, Mathieu. Good job at pronouncing the name as well. These creatures are indeed the Panserbjorn and they live up in the far Northern Lands just a bit to the east of this land in the kingdom of Svalbard. They look much like bears, or Bears depending where you are looking, that you might find in the great forests and mountains elsewhere, but they're completely white and stand at astounding heights." There was a pause as Francis gestured to the depiction of the varying levels of heights that Matthew had been marveling at just /"The tallest of the recorded Panserbjorn race is King Berwald the Silent, who is said to stand taller than all previous kings and any armored bear that has ever lived before him. This height is recorded, as of several years ago, to be around two point eight meters. It is unknown if he has grown any taller or if the measurements are accurate." Matthew raised his hand at this point, such excitement and urgency written across his delicate facial features that Francis had no choice but to respond to /"Oui, Mathieu? Quoi?" The boy put his hand down and shifted forward and looked Francis dead in the eye with startling /"I want to meet Mister Berwald." Francis stayed silent for a moment before having to hold back a laugh at the sudden mental image of little Matthew standing next to such a gigantic creature. All bundled up in furs and skins with his hooded head tipped back as he rocked onto his heels just to look at the great bear king. When Alfred chimed in that he as well wanted to meet 'Mister Berwald' Francis almost choked on his own chortling. Britainny wasn't as discreet about her laughter and got a small challenging glare from Lysimanche for /"Of course, Mathieu. I'm sure 'Mister Berwald' wants to meet you as well." The innocent excitement that appeared on the young blond's face was a beautiful sight to see and reminded Francis' so strangely of the boy's mother that he had to blink several times to get the image of her out of his head. Matthew seemed pleased with this and sat back again, looking to Alfred excitedly. The older boy nudged him in the arm with a broad grin before tipping his head back to the /"Panserbjorn are known to be extremely aggressive and barbaric in nature compared to other sentient beings, but are also not easily tricked into believing lies or deceit. There have only been three known cases where a Panserbjorn has been tricked into something- the first Bear was unnamed, the second was with the late King Iorek Byrinson the Great, and the third was King Iofur Rakinson the Fool. Two out of three of these times were due to the use of a substance to deter the mental capabilities of these bears in question." Alfred was practically vibrating in his seat, eyes blown wide open, pupils dilated. He was absolutely awestruck with these creatures, it was obvious, but Matthew's wonder was of an entirely different magnitude. Francis looked at Britainny and then back to the boys before continuing /"Unlike humans, Panserbjorn lack daemons—" This prompted outraged gasps from the two children. Even at such a young age the two had learned it to be scandalous for things to just NOT have daemons, especially sentient things such as these bears. Francis raised a hand to shush the two as he continued on /"It's speculated that instead the second a Panserbjorn is capable of doing so they start to construct their infamous armor, known as Sky Armor in their culture; It is said the only time a bears armor will break is during their death or after they have died. This leads some to believe that the Panserbjorn is connected to their armor much like a human is connected to their daemon." This new information did nothing to help quiet the now jabbering blonds as they tried to keep their voices hushed enough as to not agitate their caretaker. Matthew, who knew only a bit more about daemons than Alfred did, was quick to start speculating about the armor and wondered if when it was touched it hurt the bear. But then, wouldn't it make rather shotty armor? Alfred dismissed the notion with the counterevidence Matthew had supplied for himself before raising the thought that perhaps the armor was, much like how daemons were, the physical manifestation of the Panserbjorn soul forged by their own hands—er, paws. Francis interrupted them with a loud 'ahem' and a raised eyebrow that finally quieted them again for the time being. It was a good thing he hadn't picked to tell them about Witches. He could only image what kind of Hell they'd raise over the notion that people would willingly separate themselves from their /"The majority of the Panserbjorn race appears to be male dominated, but it is known that females exist—for reproductive purposes at least. Where or how they live is unknown as they seem particularly reclusive and do not rest with the male counterparts of their kind." It seemed the mystery only seemed to grow for the two young boys. The more Francis told them the more theories their minds were racing to concoct. That and the images of Berwald Oxenstierna were firmly implanted into their hyperactive /"The male youth of the Panserbjorn are often killed very soon after their birth—whether by their own male sibling, their father, the extreme climate, or mercifully by their own mother due to some sort of crippling defect or abnormality that would hinder them in basic survival. Growing up, the armored bears face extreme brutality both from their own kind as well as their environment. This all ensure that only the strongest of the Panserbjorn survive." It was at this time that somewhere off in the distance, a great clock chimed the hour and played a long loud melody. The three sat in silence, listening to it carefully to count the chimes of the hour. When the sound finally ceased, Francis snapped the book closed and slid it over to Matthew slowly. Alfred watched with a sharp but momentary look of jealousy before quickly cooling back down and letting Matthew take the book hesitantly without /"It is time for me to return to my own studies. You two may continue reading about the bears if you would like, but do not forget to do your worksheets—Oh! Alfred," Francis stopped suddenly as he was standing, pulling his hair out of its ribbon and retying it /"Do try not to get into any trouble. Your daemon speaks to you for a reason you know. Take care, little ones!" And with that Francis went sweeping from the room quickly, robes half pulled back on as he left and Britainny loping along after as the door was closed. The second the two were sure the older man was gone, they turned to one another. Alfred already had a mischievous grin in place on his face, and Matthew wasn't sure what to do other than open and close his mouth wordlessly. Finally after several long moments of silence Matthew managed to find words to /"Wow... Wow!" Alfred erupted into joyous laughter and nodded excitedly along. The laughter spread to Lysimanche, who had now taken on the form of a coyote and was pouncing around the floor energetically. As the two sprung from their seats, the book set aside and imagination taken up in arms, Ottium lept from Matthew and transformed. White fur erupted from feather and the fan-like tail shrunk to a stub as a broad set of shoulders and a large tapered head were brought straight off the pages and into the /"Look, look! Doesn't he look just like the picture of Iorek in the book, Matthew?" Alfred had to contain himself immensely to not jump forth and run his hands through Ottium's fur. It would do no good. That kind of stuff was outlawed in the most universal of ways. It would be just wrong, but watching Matthew carding his fingers into the thick fur as Ottium gave a low short bellow was just enough to satisfy Alfred before he turned to Lysimanche expectantly. The currently canine formed daemon didn't mimic the other's form but rather took to swinging her haunches and pouncing on the great beast that Ottium had become. Matthew clapped his hands and gave a light trill of laughter as Ottium pretended to be wounded and fell comically to the floor with a heavy /"He does, he really does! Otti, say something Iorek would say—please, please, please!" The polar bear daemon gave a long chortling noise as he rolled around on the ground careful not to squish Lysimanche beneath his newfound girth before standing up and rearing clumsily onto his back legs, large forepaws dashing out at the empty /"My name is Iorek Byrinson and I am the great king of the armored bears! All should tremble before me!" Of course this was all for dramatics, but it thrilled the two blonds beyond belief as they clapped at the performance and then dissolved into new fits of laughter over Lysimanche crawling up Ottium's back. The fun and the games lasted for hours afterwards as the boys switched between looking in the book, avidly making up fantasies over what they were reading, and playing pretend with their daemons as stand in actors. One could say that all in all, it almost seemed like the two clicked automatically as friends. Could be on account that both had been so eager to have someone, anyone, to play around with other than themselves; some might wax philosophical and say it was meant for them to be /All in all the merriment eventually came to an end as the hours ticked by and the two boys wore one another out with their frivolity. When Francis finally found time to come back and make sure that the boys were still in the room he found that not only were they there but they were asleep. The two were huddled together in the window, leaned against one another with their daemons sitting comfortably in their laps. Francis looked to Britainny who was giving the usual cryptic smile that she was so famous for before crossing the room to go and retrieve Matthew. He wasn't sure how to do so without waking Alfred; given Alfred slept like a log Francis ended up not having too much difficulty picking Matthew up and carrying him away. Britainny carried Ottium, who had taken the form of a black cat, in her mouth carefully seeing as Francis wasn't allowed to touch the little boy's /The trip to where Matthew resided was a long one and Francis feared that the boy would wake up upon entering the cold of the dimming evening. Luckily for the lot of them the little blond merely stirred in discomfort and burrowed his face into Francis' chest as he twisted his torso to hide from the chill. A light mist of a drizzle started to fall right as Francis made it to the building in question and he was thankful to have gotten out of it in time if not a bit bitter he would have to back out into it. At least it would make for a pretty, if not chilly, stroll back. Upon entering the building a soft chime sounded which was meant to alert the others in the place that someone had entered. Almost automatically a stout woman with graying brown hair came waddling from somewhere nearby and halted abruptly when she saw Francis, giving a little bow. Automatically her daemon, what appeared to be an Olde English Bulldogge, came trotting up to her heels and stood there staring silently at Britainny. The two adults stood in silence before Francis broke out into a smile and shook his /"Mademoiselle Jovanneson," Francis started with a playfully exasperated tone to his voice. "There is no need for the formalities! Please, come here. Alfred managed to whisk Matthew away today somehow… He is rather tired. If you would not mind putting him to bed?" Missus Jovanneson, otherwise known as Mikyla Jovanneson, was a middle aged heavy set woman with thinning hair and baggy wrinkles tugging at her face; by damn if she wasn't one of the best women Francis had ever met. Wiping her hands on her half-off apron, Mikyla paced over to Francis with a relieved smile on her grooved face and held out her arms for Francis to pass Matthew to her. Despite her short stature and her otherwise deceiving appearance, Mikyla took hold of Matthew easily. Holding the boy to her rather flat chest she looked down at her daemon, Maximus, carefully taking Ottium from Britainny's /Once the exchange was completed the scholar looked over Matthew once last time before reaching downward, hand finding Britainny's head easily and running over it for reassurance. Today had definitely been an interesting day, he couldn't deny it that. Now to see what the consequences of it all were. While Mikyla turned, starting off in the opposite direction with her daemon trotting along after her dutifully, Francis lingered a little longer before a soft noise and nudge from Britainny turned him away and he backed out into the cold. Mikyla continued on while Francis left, not even bothering to pause to wish him a final goodbye, as she had a task at hand- Taking Matthew to bed. Which was not a difficult task in the slightest but more so one that Mikyla found herself musing over. Mikyla had always loved kids and she had served as a nanny much a time in her youth before she managed to land a spot in Oxford as a servant of the house. Long ago she'd had dreams of settling in and starting a little family but those dreams had been dashed when she found she herself could not bear children. Her husband at the time had gone off and eloped with another more fertile woman at this revelation and left Mikyla alone with a bruised heart and an empty /The woman had eventually mended herself to the point she could look back on the event and firmly say to herself that she was by no means in the wrong and was not to blame for any of it. Especially not when this ex-husband's wedding coach ended up in flames and his prized coaching horses stolen. No siree, she had absolutely nothing to do with the selling of a prized coaching horse. Nuh-uh. Not a clue what you could be referring to. So now in her later years, Mikyla sometimes liked to think that Matthew was a bit like that grandson she'd never gotten. She'd helped Francis care for the boy when he was a wee thing, just a babe, and was now in charge of keeping an eye on him now that he was older. Not that it always worked but everybody who knew Matthew knew he was a fairly mild mannered child who rarely ever got his nose stuck in the wrong kind of business. That was what they all liked about /Upon arriving to Matthew's room, which wasn't really much of a room as more of a large closet, Mikyla sighed. This was always the hard part. She was a short woman, but not a petite one. Trying to fit into the cramped space to tuck Matthew in had always proved difficult for Mikyla though even now she did with what could be tacked off as practiced ease and shuffled her way to the cot that Matthew slept on. A rather plush blanket, swiped from a long deceased scholar's room of all places, was the only luxury things in the entire room. It made the bed feel safer, warmer, and a lot more inviting than just the thin mattress and equally thin sheets and flimsy pillow. Setting Matthew down slowly Mikyla pulled the blanket up to his chest and ran a hand over his hair with a smile. While she did do, Maximus propped his front paws upon the edge of the cot and settled Ottium down by the still snoozing blond carefully, making sure not to accidentally nose him while he pushed the sleeping daemon closer to their /"Sweet dreams, little one." Mikyla murmured before she turned carefully and exited the room. Maximus followed silently after her, not wishing to disturb anybody with his barking. Once out of the room and having closed the door Mikyla finally fully removed her apron and slung it over her shoulder with a deep long yawn that Maximus mirrored not too soon afterwards. She cast a humored look down at her daemon and started on her way to her own chambers while enjoying the quietness of the building. On the way there she passed by a few of the other servants making their own last few chores up or wandering around in their night clothes with glasses of water or wringing their nightcaps in their hands. It was no wonder some would find themselves sleepless. The great politician and warrior Lord Kirkland would be making home to Oxford soon and he had insisted on coming to the college to check upon his young nephew and to speak with the scholars of some sort of important matters. Mikyla cared not for it. She was a simpleton with no mind for the high arts such as science after /Finally making it to her own quarters the aging woman found herself disrobing absently and slowly putting on her nightgown without really paying too much mind to the whole process. Maximus went to get comfortable, leaping up and onto the bed and circling into his usual spot where he knew his partner would soon be resting as well. Watching her daemon as she righted her gown collar, Mikyla had to wonder to herself despite all previous thoughts as to what Lord Kirkland had discovered now. It was likely something important as always; there were no small discoveries when it came to that man. Finally slipping into her bed, Mikyla Jovanneson threw an arm over her daemon and buried her face into his fur with a deep exhale. Whatever was to come would come, she thought in her last few moments of wakefulness. And it would come./p