(AN: Well it seems that some of you do like it! I'm happy, though remember, reviews and the like will get me writing longer and faster! ^^; I'm still not so sure about my own abilities sometimes)
There were times that Barthilius could remember laying beside his wife at night, dreaming of what their youngest would look like. "He'll have hair like your's." She would say, tugging at his auburn locks."But he'll have that fiery spirit my family is known for." He could remember chuckling softly and giving her an indulgent smile. Those were some of his favorite memories and often he would look back on them and try to think of what she would do when something happened with one of their sons. Even he wasn't sure what his wife would have done in such a situation.
No one had an answer for the worried king. He had called healers, priests, even druids and worshipers of the old ways to check on his son. The healers could only say that the fire did nothing to him. It was as if it was part of himself. It would burn the boy's clothing off of him within moments though.
The priests weren't much better. They prayed over the confused and scared boy for hours. More than one declared that he was possessed, or worse than that. Barthilius refused to listen that his youngest was some sort of demon spawn though. The boy was gentle usually and always eager for someone to smile at him or give him some sort of attention. He highly doubted that made him dark in any way.
That left the druids and worshipers of the old ways. Some had crazy ideas or how to cure him. Things like bathing in sow's blood, or wearing the wool of a ram for a week. None of the cures worked, instead the boy seemed to be lighting himself aflame more and more often. Worried for the welfare of the rest of his sons, Barthilius separated young Hans and moved him to the Eastern wing of the castle. It had been years since it'd been used, but with a good clean and some new items, it was ready for the boy to be housed immediately without worry.
"Father, why can't I go play with everyone else?" Hans would ask when his father came to visit him, trying to offer some time to the boy in exchange for keeping him here. The king knew it was hard for the boy to be alone with only servants so often, but hopefully it would only be a temporary thing. King Barthilius refused to have any thought to the contrary.
"We need to find out what is making you so strange, my boy. When it is safe, I am sure that your brothers will welcome you to join their games with open arms.' he ruffled the boy's hair and motioned for him to sit as he handed him a ornately carved wooden box. "I brought you a gift, Hans. You might a bit young for this, but it'll help you learn tactics."
Eagerly, Han's took the gift and opened it. It was a chess set, ornately carved and painted to resemble the various things from their kingdom. "Wow!" The happy shout forced the fireplace to flare to life. Barthilius froze in his chair at it, but tried to calm down after it seemed that was the only thing that would happen. Instead of worrying about it though, the king helped his young son place each of the pieces in their proper place, explaining what each of them did at the time. Han's eyes were as wide as saucers as he listened, and tried to put it to memory. His father was right, and he probably was too young to be learning the game, but that wouldn't stop him from trying, hoping to impress his father. He wasn't as skillful as Klause was at his age or his sixth elder brother Randoulf, but he was Barthilius was pleased to see that he was a fast learner.
"Do not worry my young Hans, soon enough you will be impressing your brothers with your skills. Now, want to play again?"
"So, what you're telling me is that those little chicken bones that someone carved something into are going to tell you my son's fate." King Barthilius frowned at the latest wise woman that his advisor had brought. The old bat looked older than time itself and mostly blind. The pale color of her eyes sent shivers down young Han's back. He couldn't help but shift closer to his father, even if he was trying to be a brave boy.
"These rune stones will tell us the nature of the boy. That is what you wished to know, is it not? How to help your son, your highness?"
With a stern nod, Barthilius placed a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. Hans fought the urge to tremble, especially when the old woman reached out her gnarled, pale hand for him to take. It reminded him of the witches from the stories the maids would tell him at bed.
"Go ahead Hans... all will be well." Hans glanced back at his father before swallowing the lump of fear that was forming in his throat. Hesitantly, he reached his little hand and the woman grabbed it immediately, pulling him close to her and to the fireplace. Her sharp nails drew small dots of crimson blood as she kept a strong grip on him, despite his hand getting warmer and warmer.
"Boy, calm yourself. Set me on fire, and you will regret it." She said as she wiped the drops off of his hand and shook them on the bleached white bones that she had laid out over a black cloth. Hans watched them stained with the liquid with a sudden macabre fascination. He watched as the hag gathered them into her hands as she chanted words in a language long forgotten, older than the very castle that they were in.
His eyes were locked on them as she let them free, each piece rattling to the ground, reflecting the oranges and reds of the firelight. Hans felt the heat flow through him, thrumming to some ancient magic that called to it.
"This is no monster nor demon curse." The woman's voice was hushed as she spoke, her eyes seeing, but not seeing what laid before her. "Born and blessed with fire;s gift. The unlucky prince's spirit roars with ancient magic, a gift from a mother's line long thought lost with time." Her face turned to the boy as she blindly reached out towards him. "Blessing or burden will lay within yourself child. Fire can cause great destruction, or can bring warmth and light. You have the great ability for both within you. "
Barthilius listened to each word and felt the ring of truth behind them. He never used to believe in such things as magic, but watching his son's powers had caused him to question his views many a night. So it was something he was born with, something permanent. He wondered vaguely if his wife would have known about this. He would never find out. The dead guard their secrets fiercely.
"What can I do for him?" He finally spoke, drawing the old woman's sight back into focus and onto her king's face. "Help him learn... and invest in some very thick leather gloves." She said as she looked down at the child before him. "He will need your love to temper the fire."
With a nod, the king took a pouch from his lip and tossed it at the woman's feet. "For your services and your silence. Speak not a word of this to another living being or forfeit your life."
The old hag took the pouch and bowed low before gathering the tools of her trade back up. "As you wish, my king." Glancing down at the small boy who continued to watch her, not truly understanding the words she had said. "Be good blessedly cursed prince. Thirteenth child, you have quite the fate before you. Learn to love the snow. It may just ease the fire that will rage."
With those last cryptic words and a rough pat to Han's head, she was gone. The boy immediately ran back to his father's side, seeing answers for all that he didn't understand. If only Barthilius had them to give to his youngest son. Instead, he gently ruffled his hair and promised to speak with him about it in the morning. For now, he wanted to ease his child's mind before going to wish his elder sons a good rest.
(A/N: Welp, I didn't mean to have this done so fast, and I know it's another shortish chapter, but it seemed like the best place to end it. Once again, reviews are loved. The more reviews, the faster... and longer I write :D )