The Children and the Tyrant

Chapter Two: Found

Manfred Bloor

Somewhere in the city a tyrant was afraid and wreaking havoc on anything that wasn't flame retardant. I didn't know where to look. I didn't know how to go about finding him. Was I supposed to follow the chain of fires in the city, or would that make me look like the arsonist? I was afraid of getting caught performing forbidden magic and of the whole city being consumed before its time. I wasn't sure how to react, so I went for a drive. I remembered what happened with Skarpo when he was pulled into our time through the painting his being was confined in. He didn't understand cars or electricity or… indoor plumbing. He made it rain frogs and elephants appeared in courtyards. Borlath could make it rain fire and create more problems. He could actually kill someone, or even the whole town.

I got in my car and began to drive downtown to see if anyone looked out of the ordinary, but everyone looked fine. No one was in wonder of the city lights or wondering what a car was. I drove through Cathedral Square and once I turned onto Piminy Street, a burning store sign fell on my car, denting the hood. I immediately slammed onto my brakes and came to a stop. I jumped out of the driver's seat to shove the sign off the car before it could cause an explosion of some sort and inspected the damage. Other than the dent in the hood and a smashed headlight, the car was fine. It wouldn't cost much to repair. A chill traveled down my spine. I knew what had caused the sign to fall, and I was standing right in his trap. He was probably looking at me, ready to kill me.

"Hello?" I stupidly called into the blackness. I didn't know what else to do. A streetlight flickered in the distance and I saw a man standing beneath it looking completely awesome and noble. He was tall and dark. Against my better judgment, I found myself moving closer like a moth drawn to light. More of his features came into focus. His hair was long and black, falling straight to his shoulders, but it was matted and I could smell his poor hygiene from here. They didn't have showers in the Middle Ages, except for if you were extremely wealthy. Borlath had been wealthy but was also a war machine often gone from his castle for weeks at a time. His beard was shaven closely to his face, which came as a shock, and his eyes were frightening to say the least. They were an interesting mix of copper, orange, and red. It was like staring into a fire.

He stared at me, question ready. When he spoke, I could only catch the gist of what he was saying. Middle English wasn't impossible to understand. I had taken a class on Chaucer at the university because I had of course been curious, and knowing the language that the Red King and his children spoke would probably come in handy at some point. I had been correct. He was questioning me on who I was, and more importantly, who he was. He couldn't seem to remember a thing other than his name and his language and other basic human functions. I stared at him and pointed at my car. "I can help you." I said as steadily as possible. I believe he slightly understood what I was saying. "Go sit there."

He gingerly approached my car, not sure what it was, but he seemed to trust me, a complete stranger, enough to take him somewhere for help. I climbed into the car next to him and pulled away from Piminy Street, ready to head home and show my grandfather the success in his magic. Borlath jabbered along in his less evolved language, asking questions on what was what, and why I spoke so queerly. From what I gathered, he knew his name was Borlath, and he knew that this was the city he had hailed from, although it looked different, and he knew he possessed the power of fire. He knew not much else. He had no memories of being a tyrant, no memory of his siblings, and no memory of his father. He pressed himself up against my window and looked at all the big city lights and the cars that whizzed by. I turned towards the academy and that seemed to jog a memory for him. He caught a glimpse of the ruined castle next to my home and let out a pained groan, jabbing his finger the window. He remembered the castle.

Together, we headed inside the academy and I prayed that nothing would burn down and that great-grandfather would be pleased. I found him sitting with the Yewbeam sister quartet around the fireplace in the family room, discussing evil plans while my father sat off to the side, nose in a book. He honestly could care less about magic. If he didn't possess it, then he didn't feel the need to have to sit through great-grandfather's discussions. Borlath stepped out from behind me and began to make his way towards the fire. It was warm and inviting and barbaric enough to understand, and as a fire monger, he enjoyed it. The room felt silent as we all watched him touch the burning hot coals with his fingers. He was resistant to the harsh burn of the flame.

"Is this-" Venetia cut off when Borlath looked at her, smiling a crooked grin. His teeth were actually quite well managed, despite the time. He had a wonderful smile, but could stand to use whitening strips and real dentistry work. "I feel like we have our work cut out for us, trying to fix this man so he is ready for the real world."

"He doesn't have his memory. All he knows is that his name is Borlath and he really likes fire." I sat down on the carpet next to Borlath, and caught myself reaching through to touch the burning coals as well. My father went to command me to stop, but my hand was already plunged into the flame and I extracted a hot coal. It didn't burn, and the family gasped with awe. This made Borlath clap his hands together and go on in his unintelligible gibberish. "He also remembers the castle. He looked quite sad to see it in ruins."

"He can be taught to cope in the real world." Grizelda, the oldest of her sisters, snapped. "We have all sorts of magic."

"What if bringing a tyrant into the world isn't much a good idea? He can't remember a thing." My father murmured just low enough that nobody but me could hear.

"Yes, yes." Eustacia said bitterly. "Magic and cosmetics. Manny, dear. Why don't you run off to bed? You've done enough for the day, you can go."

I went to object. I do not tolerate being treated like a child, or being dismissed from the room by a woman that wasn't my mother. But I found that I was too tired to handle any of this confusion any longer, so I went to my room, stripped out of my day clothes and fell into a deep slumber. I dreamt of fire.


I woke the next morning to the smell of Cook's Breakfast Casserole. I never knew what was inside it, and I never dared to ask. I quickly washed myself up in the bathroom and made my way to the kitchen dressed in a plain black shirt, a pair of jeans, and brown boots. Sitting in the usually empty seat next to mine was a man (actually, a teenager really). His black hair was cut to a more medium length and he kept running his long, skinny fingers through it. His face was clean shaven, his teeth almost perfect, skin tan and eyes bright. "Good morning, cousin." He said cheerfully.

My brother and sister, who had just returned from their summer trip to France to visit my mother's sister and her husband, were staring at me hoping I could explain who this strange man was. Salem, like me, he was tall and pale with black hair. He kept his shorter and in his face. It drove our father nuts. He was a year younger than me, but larger. He worked out and had a severe vanity problem. His eyes were a dark blue much like a sapphire gem, his nose was slightly hooked and his lips thin. His endowment was telepathy. He could communicate with me inside my mind, and at this point, he was practically yelling inside my head. I winced and took a seat next to Borlath, who seemed to be just like any other ordinary man of this century.

My little sister Veronica was four years younger than I. She looked exactly like our mother. She was short and painfully thin. She seemed fragile like a baby bird. Sometimes I wondered how all of her organs fit in her body. People thought that she starved herself until they saw the way she eats. It was disgusting. She had this tiny heart shaped face and large steel gray eyes that remained protected behind black framed Michael Kors glasses (Ronnie liked the finer things in life and cared about brands more than any of us). She had her long dark brown hair in a messy ponytail and her fringed bangs swooped across her forehead, just barely touching the tops of her frames. The poor thing was still stuck with braces. She was the only one of the Bloor siblings without an endowment. But she made up for her lack of magical talent by being a genius and a fantastic artist.

But now, she was glaring at me and Salem was inside my head, both unable to tear their eyes away from Borlath.

Manfred, I'm not stupid. I know who he is. How did he get here?

I glared at my brother, who was just as persistent as any other Bloor. I didn't want to tell him anything because he didn't have an evil bone in his body. Salem. Don't worry about it. I quickly responded to him, but all was given away when he caught me thinking of the past events. The girl on the train, the experiment, what happened to my car.

You're going to kill everyone, you idiot. Salem snapped, looking at Borlath again, who seemed innocent enough. He was happily shoveling food in his mouth. He doesn't look like a tyrant though.

He doesn't have memory of anything.I insisted, staring down at my breakfast.

"Boys. Enough." Our father bellowed, making both of us look up. As long as Salem has had this endowment, we had used it for communication. Although it wasn't obvious he was using his endowment anymore, father always knew when it was happening.

The two of us broke off our conversation and Borlath looked up at us curiously. "Were you just discussing me in your head?" He narrowed his eyes at Salem, who winced; afraid he was going to spontaneously burst into flames.

"Don't worry about it." Father stood to his feet and looked at us. "I was debating on enrolling Borlath into our academy, as a Bloor of course, your cousin to be exact."

"That's a stupid idea." Veronica stabbed her fork into her food. "Are you trying to get caught?" She was rewarded a dirty look.

"If you're going to be evil, don't be blatantly stupid about it." Salem added.

"Silence, child!" Great Grandfather screeched when Weedon wheeled him into the room. "Home for a morning and you children are already causing problems for everyone."

"They're both right." I murmured. "That's the easiest way for Charlie Bone and his friends to find out who he is. If we don't have to enroll him in the school system, why should we? He has the whole west wing and ruin to explore during school hours, and one of the Yewbeams can always tutor him privately. And it'll give him a chance to get his memories back that way he can do what is expected of him."

"I don't want to stay in a dreary castle hall all day." Borlath whined. "I want to go out and explore." Before us sat a great, tyrannical leader who was supposed to help us keep control of the city, whining like a teenager. All of us decided that talking would only make us even angrier with each other, so we all bent over our food, pretending that no one was there and continued breakfast in a stony silence.

We went about our day doing whatever it was that we had to accomplish before the academy students came back and met up at the end of the night in the sitting room. Father flicked through a few files and looked at Salem and I. "Salem, this year you are the head boy. I need to actually act with responsibility and follow in the footsteps of your brother. And Manfred, you are still in charge of the endowed under the title of Teaching Assistant. You supervise their homework, monitor their progress, supervise during exams and help with whatever emotional problems they are facing."

"But…" I looked at him. "I don't care."

Salem and Veronica both giggled and father slammed his fist on the coffee table. "I don't give a damn. You have to start somewhere if you're going to take over the academy in a few years. You sure as hell know Salem isn't going to do it and with the stress you all put me through I'll be six feet under before Veronica becomes of age." He flipped through his files again. "We have had a few more new endowed students enrolled since you have been gone. Idith and Inez Branko are telepathic twins. They're in the music department and are related to Zelda. You got a letter from her, by the way. Weedon sat it on your desk. I believe she's at a university seven hours away now." I blushed and Salem smirked at me. A quick glare from our father wiped our faces clean. "A boy showed up on our doorstep by the name of Joshua Tilpin. His parents are unknown and his tuition is paid through a private bank. His endowment is magnetism. Everything and I mean everything sticks to this child. He is in the art department."

"I actually cannot fathom this in the least." Veronica covered her face dramatically. "None of this is scientifically possible."

"Cut the shit, Ronnie. You're in a magical family. Science doesn't mean anything." Salem picked her arm up and dropped it back on her face.

"Watch your mouth." Father snapped. "The third child is Ava Pike, Asa's younger sister. She's fifteen. Her parents have been working with her to make sure she wasn't a danger to the academy before she was enrolled. She has been homeschooled and unlike her brother, she is very cunning and needs to be watched. She is a shape-shifter and as you children know, they are potentially the most dangerous people to come across. She is in the art department, and Ronnie, she is in your classes. You are to keep an eye on her while Manfred cannot." He flipped to another page. "There is another that I want you to keep an eye on, Salem. She is not endowed as of now, but your grandfather suspects that she is. She has been a student here for a year now. Her father owns an alchemy shop in the city."

"Alchemy shop?" I interrupted. "I was just in there a few days ago. How did we not know about this sooner? If her father's endowed, she is definitely a child of interest."

"We didn't know about it until as of late. Eustacia has been having her visions. The child's name is Nova Eriksson. She and her father are from Sweden and they just moved to this city last year. They have been residents of the country for about ten years. Her mother was from this city. Joyce Abbey."

"Like the author?" Veronica picked her head up from the book she was reading. Ironically, it was a Joyce Abbey book. She was Veronica's favorite author.

"Yes." Father continued. "Nova is in the music department and is a pianist. She will be a student of Mr. Ebony's while he's here, uh, avenging the death of his daughter. We're not sure what her endowment will be or who her ancestors are, but Eustacia seems to believe that whatever it is, she poses a threat and is dangerous as well as powerful. And because of this girl, Eustacia believes it will be beneficial to us to have her and Borlath interact. So I will be enrolling Borlath in the school in the music department as well, but he and Nova will have limited interaction."

"I still think it's stupid to enroll him." Salem murmured as he browsed his phone. "But whatever, I'll keep an eye on this Nova. Hey- She's really cute." He held out his phone to me and I immediately recognized her as the girl who sat across from me on the train. I knew there was something about her. Now that my father had mentioned it, I was almost positive she was endowed.