Hello everyone! It took some time but I'm finally back and sooner than expected! So happy Halloween to all of you and let's kickstart a brand new chap- What do you mean Halloween is already over? Oh well, then, I wish my American readers to have a sweet Thanksgiving! So let's roll with… Thanksgiving is also finished? Ok! Maybe I'm a bit late but let's shove negativity to the side so I can wish you all a merry Christmas… An awesome Hanukkah… A great Kwanzaa… A Happy New Year… CRAP! HOW LONG WAS I GONE?! ALMOST 5 MONTHS?! Oh nonononono... OK! So let me wish you a lovely Valentine's Day and Chinese New Year ahead of time so I can stop this nonsense. ^^
But on a more serious note, I am deeply sorry for not updating in so long. These past few months have been really stressful and kept me pretty busy with all sorts of issues and inconveniences in the spectrum of life, preventing me from posting this third chapter which was sleeping on my computer since mid November (at least it gave me some time to add corrections and more details). But I'm not here to bother you with my stuff... I'm here to entertain you! So I'll try to post chapter four soon, since I'm already working on it. But in the meantime, you can finally read the third chapter, which is the "official" start of the story. How exciting! :D
One last thing: Thank you all so much for reading the Prologue! (and possibly until the end. That must have been painful so congrats!) And even more thanks to the 20 people who decided to follow this story and the 14 braves who went even further and added Path of Shadows to their Favourites! All the love and the glory to you!
With that said, I'll wait for you at the end of the chapter for more useless talk with me!
Have a nice reading! :)
Quick reminder: Highschool DXD is the property of Ichiei Ishibumi, Miyama-Zero and Fujimi Shobo. I do not own anything except the originals characters. Please support the official release.
PART I: The Birth of a New Legend
"One common mistake is to think that one reality is the reality. You must always be prepared to leave one reality for a greater one." - Mother Meera
It is the year 2000: the dawn of a new millenium. And once again, mankind is contemplating what this new era has to offer, knowing it will bring its share of both vital discoveries and cruel disasters. And whether you live in the most remote place imaginable or the most cosmopolitan city, one thought will cross your mind: what will happen tomorrow?
Our story first begins in the town of Cliffort, County Donegal, in the northwest of the Republic of Ireland. Located on Donegal Bay and to the west of its namesake city, this picturesque little town makes its living from fishing and tourism and is often considered the perfect representation of Irish's charming villages, in the same vein as places like Cong, Adare or even Dingle.
Local legends tell that in the past, a huge fortress built by giants stood on a large sea cliff, with walls so imposing that only the mountain of Sliabh Liag could compete in terms of height. Jealous, the giants decided to make their home even bigger and taller, so it could overshadow the mountain by its height. And so, the fortress grew taller, to the point of exceeding Sliabh Liag. The giants proudly laughed, because they were now sure that nothing could stand higher than their fortress. But then, they looked up and saw one thing: the sky. Full of pride, the giants refused to accept defeat and their chief declared they would build walls and towers so high that they could touch the sky before exceeding it for good. And so, once again, the castle was elevated as its inhabitants roamed the surrounding lands to find more materials to add to their construction. Over time, the entire landscape of the region found itself plunged into darkness because of the giants' work, which never seemed to end. Alas, the greed of the giants would be their downfall; as one day, the cliff where the gigantic construction took ground began to crack before collapsing completely under the weight of the fortress, taking the buildings and their colossal inhabitants with it into the depths of the ocean. It is said the fortress was so large that in its fall, a huge chunk of land fell into the waters, creating a great cavity in the process before the ocean began filling it, transforming the landscape forever in the process as Donegal Bay took form. As time went by, human tribes moved to these lands and began to build villages around the bay, with one of them settling right where the fortress' doors once stood. The villagers found a stone nearby with words carved on it: "Dun na Haille" (The Fort of the Cliff); and they decided to give this name to their village. A few centuries later, when the English planters arrived in this region in the early XVIIth century, they found themselves confused by the little town's name, seeing neither a fort nor a cliff in the area. However, their use of the term "Cliff's fort" to describe this place stuck to its inhabitants, who shortened it to "Cliffort"; a name which became the official designation for this little town of County Donegal, in the Republic of Ireland. The moral of this story is that while pushing yourself to be better is good, those who get blinded by greed will fail. These words held a great importance for the people of Cliffort who taught them to their children who then did the same with each new generation. Sadly, the most common trait among humans, whatever their nationality or personal belief, is the ability to easily forget lessons from the past.
Cliffort, Ireland, 14th of June 2000
05:30 PM
On this late afternoon, a feeling of ease reigned over the little town and its people under the amical sun, the first fruits of summer looming on the horizon. But while good vibrations seemed to echo in most parts of Cliffort, in a small wasteland on the outskirts of the village, a group of children proved to be the exception to the rule.
"Do it you idiot! You are wasting our time!"
"Yeah! I don't want to be late for dinner!"
The scene was composed of seven children around the age of 10, with six of them standing in a half circle in front of the remains of a brick wall, currently watching the last one fidgeting as he faced them. "W-w-wait! I do-don't..."
"Come on! Just zip it and show your thing to us! Unless you're pulling one on us, Robbie…"
"Tch! I thought you knew me better than that. I'm the most honest person in the whole Tyrconnell." answered back the shortest kid in the group, known as Robbie, with an unpleasant voice full of self-importance. "So I can assure you that I'm speaking the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. He only needs some good motivation, right Seth?" he asked the lanky dark-haired in front of him, a hint of threats perceptible in his voice.
Trembling with fear, the now identified Seth gulped and turned towards the sunny wall, taking a short breath before closing his eyes as he focused his attention on this specific task. After a dozen of seconds, the young boy's shadow which was projected on the wall slowly began to stretch, his form getting more and more irregular, before it started to move by itself as it waved at the little group.
The other boys were shocked by this action, which only lasted for a short time before the shadow figure turned back into its original form as Seth fell to his knees, breathing heavily. But quickly, shock evolved into fear and panic took over some of them, with the exception of Robbie and the two boys at his sides, who strangely looked more used to this than the others.
"Gah! What the hell was that?!"
"Impossible! That must be a magic trick with mirrors! Or maybe a shadow puppetry show! I mean, things like this can't happen otherwise, right?!"
"Calm down fellas! Calm down!" interrupted Robbie, adorning an arrogant grin as he tried to assert his authority. "The thing is gone, so no need to panic, alright?" he continued, seeing his words as managed to reassure his audience. "Now, after this little experience, I think some of you have to say something to me…" he finished, giving a mocking look to the kid who questioned him earlier.
"OK! OK! You were right Robbie!" admitted the young boy genuinely. "His shadow can really move by itself and I was wrong to doubt your word; as unbelievable as it sounded at first."
Robbie didn't immediately answer back and instead lifted his head a little bit higher as he closed his eyes, the smile on his face stretching to form a complacent grin as he soaked up in the compliment, as usual.
"You're welcome! I'm always happy to share new games with friends." he said in the same squeaky but arrogant tone. 'Even though you might be the last three idiots in the whole county who didn't know about Seth's capacity hehehe…' he thought in a far less friendly attitude. "But sadly, every good thing must come to an end. So now it's time to pay!" he added, moving his hand forward like he was about to take hold of something.
"Uhhhhhh what are you talking about?"
"About the commission that me and my friends should receive after offering you this little show. I mean, all artists need some sort of income to survive!" explained Robbie, fake modesty discernible in the voice. "Come on guys! I'm sure you must have some pounds on you. And I'm not asking for much. But you know, while I consider myself to be pretty understanding, I wouldn't say the same about Freddie and Louie…" he added, pointing to the two taller boys at his sides, their bullfrog-like look gazing at the three spectators as a mean sneer formed on their faces.
"Uuuuuuuh…"
"But if you're still unsure about this, let me give you one more reason to comply." began Robbie. "Because if you feel intimidated by my two partners, they are nothing compared to the threat that is right here!" he added, pointing dramatically at a still recovering Seth.
"Excuse me what?"
"You heard me sound and clear. I said that the real danger for you, if not for all of us, is to anger Seth." clarified Robbie as he got closer to them and adopted a more sinister tone of speech. "You might not be aware, but under this ungainly appearance sleeps a rotten, vicious and sinister evil, which, like a ticking time bomb, is just waiting to be unleashed upon the poor souls who are near it." he explained, emphasizing the warning of his words.
"Stop joking around Robbie!" replied one of the kids, trying to look more confident against the arrogant child. "I doubted you about that thing with the shadows and I recognized I was wrong. But I would start to believe magic and every other legend were real before imagining just once that Sétanta the Stammerer could be harmful for anyone or anything except for himself."
"Haha! I admit you have a valid point here. But allow me to answer back with another hypothesis: now that you saw what his own shadow can do, imagine the things he could do with yours. Because while this doesn't seem to affect him, I'm not sure how someone else would react if they lost the control of their own shadows. Maybe it would extend to the entire body or even your mind." explained Robbie, adding "scarry" gestures to his words as his speech continued. "So are you ready to take the risk for a few pounds?"
Silence then took over as the atmosphere became more tense as the arrogant boy pressured his comrades, adorning a smug look in his small eyes hidden by a chubby face. This moment lasted for a dozens of seconds before the kids gave a final look at the alleged source of their fears as he finished getting back on his feet and turned towards them. And as they locked eyes, the three boys suddenly became frightened and emptied their pockets to at least find some coins before running away from the scene, justifying that it was a bit too late for them to stay outside any longer.
The remaining four watch them leave towards the town before Robbie bursted into laughter, soon mimicked by Freddie and Louie. "Hahahahaha! What a bunch of idiots! They must have been the last three blokes in the entire town to not know about him! Am I right, mates?"
The two boys didn't answer him directly but simply snickered at his comment as a show of approval, as their ladder redirected his attention towards their "partner in crime". "Don't you agree with us, Seth?"
"Ye-yeah, that's fo-for sure…" stuttered the lanky kid, trying to not offend his interlocutor.
"But that's your own doing, you know? It's because you're so intimidating and scary that you have such a bad reputation in town." continued Robbie as he started to giggle from his own joke. "You truly are the baddest of the bad." he finished, now laughing out loud and quickly emulated by his henchmen.
"R-r-right… Bu-but can I have my schoo-school bag ba-back now?" shyly asked Seth, a mix of embarrassment and anxiety audible in his voice.
As soon as he finished his sentence, the three boys' laughters quieted down as the previously "light-hearted" atmosphere faded away to be replaced by an uncomfortable silence. "I'm not sure if I heard you correctly: Did you give us an order?" asked Robbie menacingly as the three boys walked towards Seth.
"Uh? Oh-oh n-"
"Oy guys! Did Sétanta 'the Shadow Freak' just order us?" questioned Robbie as he and his comrades began closing in on the stuttering boy. "Did 'Gawky Sétanta' thought he could command us? Did 'Luckless Seth', a guy so clumsy he managed to trip on his own shadow, tried to play tough with us?"
"Ah! I me-mean... No n-no of cou-course not! It's ju-just that I wan-wanted my ba-bag back since you to-took it earlier when we left sch-school. I'm so-sorry! I di-didn't mean to off-offense you." pleaded the young boy in a panicked outburst, trying to speak more clearly but resulting in even more stammers, while the others had moved to form a triangle around him.
"I don't know… I think we should remind you what happens to those who try to mess with us." interjected Robbie, a threatening smile on his lips, as Seth suddenly felt a strong grip on his shoulders. However, his initial shock was short-lived when he felt himself being violently thrown forward, unable to slow himself as he collided against Freddie who immediately pushed him back; where he was caught by Robbie who then sent him towards Louie. Seth spent a few minutes being propelled around like a projectile by his "comrades", who were really invested in their little game of "catch and throw", shouting and laughing as time went on before ending it when Robbie moved aside after a new pass, letting Seth continue his run until he stumbled upon a large root and crashed face first into the ground.
"Ouch! That one must have hurt." commented Robbie as he approached the boy on the ground and crouched to slap him on his back. "I hope you will not hold it against us. We were just messing a bit with you and nothing more. After all, that's how it works between us, right?" half-joked the pretentious child, not paying attention to see if the boy was still conscious until he heard a low groan. "I think we should take our leave as well. But don't worry, you can have your school bag back. Louie!" The taller boy acquiesced before removing the straps from his shoulders and letting the bag fall next to its rightful owner. "Anyway, see you tomorrow Seth! And this time, don't try to bail on us or we might not be as forgiving as today."
The three childs then departed the empty field as echoes of laughter could be heard from the near distance. Meanwhile, Seth once again slowly lifted himself from the ground, dusting off his clothes soon after before checking if he had any bruises resulting from his fall. After all, rocks around here were quite sharp and could do some serious damages, whether you fell on them or got hit with one. But except for some scrapes on his knees and elbows, he didn't seem to be really hurt. Sniffing, Seth then remembered the issue about his bag and rushed to open it, looking for any missing belongings. But fortunately, there was nothing out of place, which helped him relax a bit until he realized something important.
"Wait a minute! What time is it?!" asked the young boy out loud as he threw a glance at his tiny wristwatch, informing him it was already 06:15 pm. "Oh shoot! I'm going to be late again!"
Without wasting another second, he grabbed his bag and began running as fast as his legs could go, cursing under his breath and not paying attention to anything else; except for the feeling he heard a faint voice close to him talking about something "weak", but that wouldn't be the first time his imagination played tricks on him. Eventually, as he ran along the familiar path consisting of the old port town's streets, his mind began to wander from his main preoccupation and let his various thoughts roam freely.
Sétanta was an average person. That's what he liked to believe and he would repeat it to himself every new day. However, even if someone believes in something, it doesn't mean it's necessarily true. And Sétanta was the perfect example to prove it. At first glance, there was nothing uncommon about this child, whose usual outfit consisted of a red t-shirt, khaki-coloured cargo shorts and a pair of black and white sneakers. His t-shirt displayed a small cartoon-like skull with a playful smile on its face, something which always amused Seth as he would proudly wear it almost everyday, so it could give him some good vibrations. Outside of his outfit, Seth was pretty tall for a boy his age but also quite skinny, with "matchsticks legs" as the fellow kids would say about him, which presented him as the embodiment of the term "lanky".
The young boy was an orphan, raised in one most well-known place of the village: the Mac Dermott Institute. He was seemingly an orphan since birth, as the institute took him in when he was just a baby and he never knew his parents. Apparently, from what he heard, he was found ten years ago covered with a blanket in a small basket, in front of the orphanage's gateway by a stormy night. That is quite atypical, because it looked like something which came out of some novel-like story. But there was more. Bach then, a single note was attached to the basket, which indicated that his name was Sétanta, his birthday and a recommendation about preventing him from not exposing his eyes too much, as strange as it sounded. But as he grew up, those around him noticed one thing in particular about the dark-haired boy: he was extremely unlucky. Whenever there was something dirty on the ground, he would walk in it. Whenever there was an empty old chair ready to break, he would be the one to sit on and fall through it. Whenever a pair of shoes had its laces loosed up, it would be his and he would eventually fall to the floor because of them. People began to speculate whether it was just plain bad luck or if Seth could potentially be the clumsiest person in the entire world. Either way, this series of near-daily misadventures which could begin with Seth wanting to buy an ice cream and end with him swimming inside the harbour waters, thus confirming the validity of Murphy's law, was the first factor in the boy's abnormality.
His eyes were another proof of the boy's difficulties to blend in. While it was fairly common to see people with different eye colors, Seth's stood out from the usual ones. Composed of scarlett iris and near white pupils, when people looked at them, they could only think one thing: that's not normal. Almost immediately after joining the orphanage, he received a consultation from the town's doctor, who had never seen something similar in his career. He made a call to one of his friends, who was working as an ophthalmologist in Letterkenny, hoping he could find a rational diagnosis, but he too found himself speechless in front of the baby's condition. His only assumption consisted of a rare case of ocular albinism, which could explain the note's warning about "exposing his eyes too much". When the boy grew a bit older, they offered him a pair of glasses which could help his sight but he refused each time, stating he was scared to look even more different. That's why he settled for a worn out fisherman's cap that matched his shorts to complete his attire, with a bull's head drawing on the front. But while the cap wasn't very effective when it came to fully hide Seth's eyes from others, it gave him a feeling of security as if he was protected by an invisible wall. But if you asked him or those who had witnessed it, they would say Seth's most "eye catching" trait is his shadow.
It first manifested three years ago, when during an excursion to the local library with his class, a younger Sétanta tried to grab a book stored at the top of its shelf. Being too small to reach it, even while standing on a chair, the little boy stretched his arm as far as he could, determined to get his hands on it. Even when his teacher shouted at him to stop because he could fall, Seth refused to give up, as his fingers could almost scratch the book's cover. Unfortunately for the dark-haired, the prediction was correct and the chair under him tilted backward, leading to his unavoidable fall towards the ground. During that single second, the small boy experienced something strange, as if someone was standing right behind him, or more presicely under him since he was falling, and giving Seth for the first time in his life a sense of confidence he always lacked. Then, as he saw his arm move by itself like it tried to hang on to anything to stop the fall, Seth felt the "presence" closer to his body, almost holding him, sending shivers along the boy's spine and limbs before he closed his eyes, readying himself to take on the impact… An impact which never happened, as when the dark-haired opened his eyes, he came upon the shocked faces of those who witnessed the scene, following their gazes to finally notice the reason behind these expressions: the appearance of a mysterious black hand from the shelf, which was currently holding the little boy in the air by his right arm. Surprise also began to form on his face before the hand suddenly faded away as quickly as it first took form, letting the boy land on his buttocks without harm.
Since that day, Seth's perception of the world around him drastically changed. At first, he thought the bookshelf was enchanted/magic and that it used a spell to save him. But his theory would be soon refuted when, walking alone to use the bathroom by a stormy night, he found himself frightened by the sudden sound of roaring thunder and saw his shadow jump in terror and hide behind a nearby commode. This new experience made Seth realize that maybe it was him and not the bookshelf who possessed magic powers; which led him to try several times to use his newfound abilities with poor results in the end. Around the same period, people started to look at him differently, replacing the previous lack of attention by looks of suspicion and watchful eyes when they came across the boy in the street. Unfortunately for him, Seth's little experiments weren't as discreet as he thought, making more and more people aware of him and his powers, even those who didn't believe at first and who labelled it as a "curse". All of this slowly morphed into a feeling of general resentment towards the young boy, combining his lack of luck to his abilities and uncommon physiognomy into an unflattering portrayal which made Cliffort's inhabitants put him aside from the town's daily life, balancing between not looking at the boy and blatantly ignoring him as if he never existed in the first place.
However, some of the residents decided to not cast Sétanta away from their lives. But not all of them did it out of the goodness of their hearts. And sadly for him, Robbie Ó Cinnéide was one of these persons. Born as the only son of Cliffort's fish market owner, Robbie had from a very young age considered himself as essential to the town and its inhabitants as his father's business. And while there were more than one point to contradict his claim, because of his narrow-mindness and the fact his parents spoiled him way too much, it was nearly impossible to make this child see reason. Soon, he managed to develop a talent for acting, playing a popular and playful child in front of adults but then showing his true manipulative and arrogant self when surrounded by kids his age, especially since he knew he could say and do anything to them thanks to his "security service", also known as his childhood friends Freddie Bodkin and Louie Davin. Thanks to them and his good reputation among adults, it made him basically untouchable by others and he used this status to look for new ways to feed his ego and position. And this is when he met Sétanta. Having heard of the boy's "capacities'', Robbie sniffed a good deal out of this information. He met one day and declared that he and his friends would like to spend more time with the dark-haired in the future. Naive as he was, Seth didn't question why these three boys wanted him to hang out with them out of the blue when most people he knew usually tried to avoid him; and so he happily agreed, thinking he could finally have some friends to have fun with. But soon, he would understand the real reasons behind the trio's request. The dynamic of the group could be described like: Robbie and his friends first would find a few "spectators", who consisted of their classmates or acquaintances from school, for their little show. Then, Sétanta would use his powers to "entertain" the crowd, followed by Freddie and Louie approaching it to collect "the promoter's fees", which they would almost always accept to pay but most often against their will, leading to them leaving quite annoyed against Seth since Robbie would always find a way to make the dark-haired appear more guilty than him. This entire process, with the addition of Robbie's "chill break" to help the kids relax after a stressful day (even though it mainly consisted of the three boys and sometimes some classmates using Seth as a substitute to unleash their frustration, which Robbie justified by explaining it was to help him "man up"), made Seth realize he wasn't apart of their group but subject to a form of bullying, which, thanks to Robbie's attention to detail, isolated him even more from others.
Therefore, if you asked an inhabitant to describe the young boy known as Sétanta in one word, several terms could be used, such as "unlucky", "strange", "freaky"... But none would think of "normal"...
06:45 PM
After a little run across the town, a worn out Seth had finally managed to reach his destination as he stood slightly bent forward, hands on his knees to catch some his breath, in front of the old and rusty gates of the Mac Dermott Institute.
Those who would look past its doors and iron wrought fence could then see a tall four story Victorian style mansion, red bricks offering a nice contrast with the building's black roof and white painted railways and posts from its wide porche. It comported two twin turrets each positioned at both sides of the building and one central tower, giving to the place some sort of castle's look, with its dungeon tower. However, those who had good eyes could notice the dug left by the sea breeze's erosion, which added to the paint flaking, gave to the institute the image of a work worned out by time itself.
The institute bore the same name than its founder: Brendan Mac Dermott, an extravagant philanthropist from Cork who decided to settle in the town after his retirement from business with his family and to use his wealth to help its community; most notably by funding the orphanage which was inaugurated in 1895, a few years prior to the old man's death. Since then, the Mac Dermott family continued to run the establishment, which slowly became one of the most famous attractions of the town and its surroundings; to the point of being added to tour bus' circuits and creating a "unique'' tradition of offering passing tourists the opportunity to adopt some orphans. And while this idea could sound absolutely crazy for any person with a rational and logical mind to let people, who most of the time didn't come for it, adopt children and leave with them as easily as if they were knick-knacks bought from a souvenir shop, town's people didn't find anything strange about it. For them, it seemed like a simple custom which had found its place in Cliffort's folklore and no one, even the children, ever complained. Furthermore, the Irish Adoption Board, as astonishing as it looked, never sent once a warning note or a letter of condemnation about this "practice" in its entire existence, comforting Cliffort's inhabitants in their idea that there was nothing wrong with it in the first place.
Seth didn't waste more time as he threw his bag over the gates, silently praying for none of his stuff to be damaged when it landed, before he climbed along the fence to pass over it without getting impaled by its spiky end. And while he managed to avoid this danger, it didn't prevent him from slipping and crashing head first into the ground below. Groaning as he rose up, Seth only muttered a quick but painful "Why must it always be on the head?" before grabbing his bag and walking towards the building.
Opening the doors as quietly as possible, the young boy tip-toed his way along the entrance hall, sneaking behind every pillar, hoping to pass without someone noticing him. But just as he was about to reach the stair…
"Seth!"
A loud voice made itself heard from his back, showcasing that his luck had run out yet again.
"Oh no… That's not good…" whispered Seth as he turned around to come face to face with a person he was quite familiar with. "He-hello mi-miss Ryan…" stuttered Seth as he saluted the woman standing before him, messy ginger locks partially hiding a pair of green eyes focused on the child's figure.
Matilda Ryan was one of the most recent additions to the employees of the Mac Dermott Institute. And even though she had been working for three years, she quickly managed to gain the respect of both the orphanage's children and coworkers thanks to her fiery temper and stubborn personality, not allowing anyone to walk over her without a fight. That was something she wanted to teach to every child living in the old manor, but until now, they weren't really receptive to her philosophy of life, probably because of her visible lack of pedagogic skills.
"Do you know what time is it? You're awfully late, you little brat!" she boomed with authority.
"O-oh well… I-I... You know…"
"You should know that the Institute's doors close everyday at exactly 06:15 pm. And yet, here you are now, showing your scrawny face more than thirty minutes after closing!"
"Ye-yes but you se-see…"
"And if it was just today, I would be clement. But you always find a way to be late, to the point it's now a daily occurrence! So, this time, do you have any good excuse to explain yourself?"
"Oh! Uuuhh... Yes! I me-mean no! I me-mean yes bu-but…"
"Oh for God's sake! Could you please stop stuttering for more than one sentence and just spit what you need to say once and for all?!" expressed the ginger with frustration, hands on her hips as the previously pulled up sleeves of her deep green sweater found a way to fall once again.
The little boy was about to answer but suddenly his hand on his mouth at the last second, knowing he could not prevent himself from stammering. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he opted for staying silent and not crossing his tutor's inquisitive gaze, which seemed to anger her even more. "So you're giving me the silent treatment? You little twerp! Why can't you act like someone normal for once? You'll never be adopted if you continue to behave like this!" exploded Matilda, far louder than she first thought as after a few seconds passed, she was pretty sure every person in the building must have heard her tantrum.
Seth didn't respond but instead began to shake, his eyes fixed on the ground, feeling like he was stuck underwater, unable to open his mouth and emit the slightest noise except for a small whimper. That's when another voice made itself heard from the top of the stairs.
"That's enough, miss Ryan! I think you berated this child enough for an entire week." declared the nasal voice, making the ginger and the dark-haired respectively look upward and turn around to see who was its owner; even though they both knew very well who this person was.
"Headmistress Mac Dermott! How long have you been there?" asked Matilda in honest surprise. "I'm sorry if I bothered you but this disruptive element needed to get a proper lecture for showing up late once again and-"
"You don't need to say more, miss Ryan." interrupted her superior. "I'm glad to have someone as devoted as you to help our residents to remember and to respect the rules of the institute. But allow me to take care of this case."
"What? But headmistress Mac Dermott, I-"
"I insist Matilda! Now could you please go back to watch over the children while they eat?" gently demanded the older woman. Matilda went on to answer back but she quickly understood the underlying authority behind her employer's words and decided to simply nod and walk away towards the dining room, muttering "Gutless little idiot…" as she left.
Seth breathed a sigh of relief, thinking for a short moment that his ordeal was now over until he remembered the person standing tall upstairs.
"Now Sétanta, I would appreciate it if you followed me to my office." added the old woman before she left the scene as well. Knowing perfectly what could happen to those who disobeyed her, Seth swallowed some saliva stuck in his mouth and proceeded to climb the stairs to follow the woman at the head of the orphanage.
07:00 PM
The walk between the hall and the headmaster's office was a tricky one for those who didn't know the exact path to take, as the building's interior design and its numerous corridors could form a maze of doors and dead ends. However, for someone like Seth who lived inside these walls for as long as he could remember, it almost felt like he had been transported from his previous emplacement to where he was currently facing the door separating him from his destination.
Gulping some saliva one last time, he then knocked on the door three times before waiting for the room's occupant to answer, which came almost immediately with a quick "You can come in."; slightly stifled by the wooden door's thickness. The boy entered the room, the noise of the door creaking confirming his presence as he closed it behind him, leaving his eyes to roam around the room as they caught the familiar sights of the old bookshelves containing even older books, mostly registers about the institute, with the description of every child who has ever lived inside the orphanage from their birthdate to their departure date; with other datas such as their registration date, their evolution in height, weight, the characteristics of each of them (personality, health issue, specific event regarding a child…) and even a photograph of each child for most of the books. There was a register for each year the orphanage has been operative, showcasing the impressive consistency of its personnel to make sure no child was forgotten.
Outside of these, the office was filled with other furnitures, such as a varnished wood cabinet containing the headmistress' personnel hobbit: ships in bottles, but also a large diamond-shaped carpet decorated with Celtic motives spreading all around the room, with the old mahogany desk at its center, from where the current owner was busy fixing the young newcomer.
From the top of her perfectly styled grey-haired bun to the end of her shined black shoes, completing her grey-themed uniform consisting of an immaculate white shirt underneath an opened grey tweed jacket with a long deep blue skirt, short plain socks and a pair of round-shaped glasses, Margaret Mac Dermott was the perfect visual representation of the "bossy old lady" cliché.
She was the widow of the former headmaster and "heir" of the Institute: Seán Mac Dermott. After the death of her husband, and since they didn't have any children, she took upon the charge of ruining the orphanage by herself instead of letting another party take over it. And just like for Sétanta, if you asked anyone to describe her in one expression, they would all give the same answer: "strong-willed".
But while she may look severe for most of the town's outsiders who hadn't heard of her, or even scarry for other childrens because of her long crooked nose similar to those of the witches inhabiting fantastic tales, those who lived with the old woman learned early that despite looking intimidating for some people, she would never be cruel with anyone or anything. Proud of the Mac Dermott's mission, she was always ready to stand up against any person attempting to cause harm to the children or her husband's heritage and would not be easily pushed aside. For all the mansion's residents, she was the highest authority figure, the one whose words couldn't be contested because deep down, they all knew she was most often right about the subject. Thus, everyday, the headmistress was always doing her utmost to ensure that every child living inside the institute could grow up in the best environment and learn the most useful knowledge possible until she found for each the perfect family to help them bloom into wise and responsible adults.
"Thank you for coming here so quickly. You can sit down here." indicated Mac Dermott, opening her hand in the direction of the two chair facing her desk. Once Seth sat on one of them, she quickly added "But before we address the topic regarding your presence in this office, Sétanta, could you please remove your cap? You should remember it every time you enter inside a building, young man!"
The young boy, startled for a few seconds, quickly obeyed her and removed his trademark headgear, freeing a wild mane of spiky jet-black hair in the process, with a particular strand sticking up in the direction of the oldest person in the room. "Uh! Remind me to add you to the next group for the hairdresser's visit. It's really impressive how quick your hair can grow in such a short time…" commented Margaret. "...But not as much as their ability to never stay properly kept."
"Y-yes Ma'am!" answered Seth, unsure of which part of the discussion his intervention was needed, but who managed to stir the headmistress' attention back to him.
"Enough distraction! Let's get back to the subject at hand, shall we?" said the old woman as she repositioned herself on her brown leather chair. "So," she began, "Sétanta, could you please tell me why you were, once more, late to the doors' closure and trying to discreetly enter to reach your room?"
"Uuuuuuh… I-I…"
"Let me guess: you found yourself stuck by a slab of wet cement and you had to hop instead of walking on your way back?" interjected Margaret before giving the boy a better look. "Mmmh... No! Your shoes don't have any markings on them similar to this incident. Then, maybe you got chased by some of the dogs from the Donohoe's farm and you had to outrun them?"
"You-you see-"
"Oh I know!" interjected Margared as she cut him off. "You were busy with trying to escape another 'bucket incident', weren't you?" asked the old woman as the slightest form of a smile could be observed forming on the corner of her mouth, while her locutor's skin suddenly turned even whiter.
"N-N-N-N-N-N-NO! Y-ou s-said that you wou-would not talk ab-bout it anymo-more!" exclaimed the young boy, not-so-sweet memories about this specific event flooding inside his head.
"You're right! I'm sorry if my little comments brought back unpleasant images." she answered with genuine concern for the dark-haired well-being. "But my point should be clear for you: excuses don't work anymore! And while the institute employees and myself are fully aware of your 'ability' to generate inopportune situations, it doesn't mean you should be exempted from any punition."
Seth didn't answer back. Instead, he let his gaze fall to the ground, looking dejected yet again. Witnessing the sight of the crestfallen child, Margaret opted for adding some wise words before pursuing her reproofs of the young boy's faults.
"Sétanta, do you by any chance remember the dictum my dear husband used to say?"
"That so-someday, if something go-good ha-ha-happens to me, there is al-always a chan-chance an Englishman co-comes in and-"
"NO! Not this one!" quickly interjected Margareth, cutting the boy before he could end his sentence. "I knew I should have never let Casey tell you and the others stories about Seán…" she stated, massaging her temples as she sighed heavily before refocusing on her task at hand. "The one I wanted you to say was: You should never run away from your problems, because there are no hideouts to protect you from them."
The boy stayed silent, unsure about how to respond as he let the headmistress words sink in his head. This moment of silence stretched for a few dozens of seconds before the voice of Margareth made itself heard once more. "Now that you learned your lesson, it's time for you to receive a proper punishment to complete your lecture."
At the mention of the word "punishment", Seth perked up almost instantly and his trail of thoughts switched from a lingering feeling of regrets to one of complete terror. "N-N-N-N-NO! P-please no pu-punishments! I-I am so-so-so sorry and I pro-promise I will ne-never be la-late again!" cried the young boy in a terrorized voice, his body shaking as he curled up on himself.
Realizing the effects of her speech on the child and his current panicked state, Margareth cursed under her breath before trying to find the rights words to help him calm down. Fortunately for her, witnessing the growth of the boy with her own eyes, she always knew what could help Sétanta ease up, whatever the mood he was showcasing.
"Excuse me Sétanta, but I might have used the wrong expression for this case." intervened the grey-haired woman, trying to catch his attention back. "What I meant to say was, given the current circumstances, that I need help with some task that someone my age cannot do as effectively as before. Therefore, if you could accomplish this feat, you would be pardoned for your previous wrongs." she explained, paying attention to the words she chose for her explanations to be the most receptives to the child's brain.
And just as she had planned, Sétanta began to calm down as soon as he heard her readjust the subject of their discussion, his curiosity growing as he inched his chair closer to the desk. "A task? What is it? How can I help?" he asked innocently.
"Oh I don't know…" followed Margareth. "It demands a lot of investment and a strong will and I don't want to put such a heavy burden on your shoulders. After all, you're still a child and you don't have to be concerned about the orphanage's future, which is adult business..." she continued, giving some spaces between her sentences to them linger a bit longer.
"I'm not scared." replied the young boy, suddenly looking a lot more confident than before. "I can take on a lot of hard stuff. And I want to help any way I can."
"Are you really sure? Like I said, this kind of task demands a lot from those who are up for it. It is best suited for big strong boys. Are you implying that you know a big strong boy?" playfully asked Margareth, always happy to see the most "stressed out" of the orphanage's residents act more like a child of his age should instead of looking gloomy.
"Me! I'm a big boy! I can do it! Please tell me what I should do!" exclaimed Seth, now standing on his chair and making small jumps on it to be noticed, which, as precious it may have looked for the old woman, doesn't mean precious furniture should be tarnished in return.
"Show some manners, young man! I can clearly see your enthusiasm and while I appreciate it, this poor chair shouldn't have to suffer from your burst of excitement." lectured the old woman.
"AH! Ye-yes Ma'am! So-so-sorry!"
"Good! Now about this specific task, I would need someone to vacuum the entire ground floor of the institute, including the refectory once all the children will be done eating." she began explaining. "Normally I would have asked Casey, but he hurt his back earlier today when carrying heavy sacks of soil in the garden. That's why I need your help Sétanta."
"So… You ju-just want me to vacuum? That's all?" asked the little boy, sounding a bit taken aback by this revelation, his enthusiasm coming to an halt.
"Yes, you're right. But I don't want you to see this as a simple chore…" intervened Margareth, trying to keep her momentum going and choosing this at the right moment to pull out her "secret weapon" for Seth. "I want you to use the vacuum as a noble object to slay dust and filth. You can see yourself as a noble knight protecting your fellow residents thanks to your trusted suctioning spear."
As soon as he heard those words, the boys' eyes found back their glitter, almost sparkling with excitement; a detail which the headmistress didn't let go to waste, confirming her plan was working. "So, Sétanta, can I entrust you with this mission for the good of the institute? You can always decline and I swear I will not hold any grudges against you for your refusal. In fact, I could-"
"I'll do it! I'll do it!" energetically cut Seth, who had resumed his previous jumping spree on his chair before he quickly registered what he was doing and stopped himself, albeit still standing on top of his seat. "I me-meant to say: you can count on me! I will not let you down!" corrected himself the young boy while saluting the headmistress like a soldier to his officer.
"In that case, you can start right now. You will find the vacuum downstairs next to the coat-stand. By this time, the other children should have finished their dinner, so you can go clean the refectory without being disturbed." detailed Margareth before adding, "Oh and do not worry: I will warn the cook to leave you a full plate when you will be done."
"Than-thank you very much. I better get started then." concluded Seth as he jumped from his seat to move towards the door until he was stopped by the voice of the other person in the room.
"By the way, I almost forgot it but can you tell me how you got those bruises on your arms?" she asked pointing at the scratches resulting from his earlier "game" with his "friends".
"Oh-oh… I j-just slip-pped on my way ba-back. That's all!" quickly retorted, trying to avoid the headmistress' gaze by looking everywhere except in her direction while crossing his arms to hide the marks on them the best he could.
"Oh? So you slipped?" repeated Margareth in a fake surprised tone. "Do you remember how it happened?"
"Uuuuuh… You-you know... The-The same as u-usual for me... I was loo-looking at something and su-suddenly I found my-myself face fir-first against the dirt." Seth managed to spit out, justifying his current state best he could, even though he was the first to admit he was a pretty bad liar.
"Ah interesting…" began Margareth, a knowing smile forming on her lips. "Sétanta, I know you are not really telling me the truth, and that's quite easy to notice because of one thing."
"Ah! I-I meant… Wha-what makes you be-believe that I'm lying?" asked Seth, retorting with the best he could come up with.
"That's fairly simple. When you lie, you stutter three times instead of two for one sentence."
"W-what? Really?!" shouted Sétanta in surprise.
"No, but your reaction confirms that you were indeed lying to me." indicated the old woman, her smile growing a bit after watching Seth's face morph into a puddle of emotions before settling for utter defeat. "Now, are you going to tell me what really happened?"
The boy didn't respond, instead opting for fixing the wooden floor and not looking up, hoping the headmistress would give up on this question or that a hole would form under him and let him escape this stressful staredown.
"So you are not going to tell me anything? I just want to help you Sétanta."
"..."
Margareth continued to wait but, seeing no signs of cooperation from the boy's part and catching him slightly shaking ever since she broached this subject, decided to leave him be for this time. "Fine! I will not try to pry about that any longer. You may leave, but remember that if you want to talk about anything, my door is always open."
The boy just lifted his head and gave a small nod before turning back and opening the door to leave. "Goodnight Mrs. Mac Dermott."
"Have a good night Sétanta. And don't forget to do your homeworks before going to bed!"
And as the door closed behind the dark-haired, the current occupant of the headmaster's office couldn't hide her concern about the discussion she just had with him, knowing she must find out what could be behind these bruises and taking note about putting the boy under a more efficient watchful eye.
09:00 PM
The entire ground floor was empty once Seth finished vacuuming in the last nooks and crannies of the refectory, leaving the boy alone with nobody to keep him company. But it didn't really bother him; in fact, he appreciated the tranquility of the room, which was only briefly interrupted when the dark-haired decided to add his "personal touch" to the chore.
"Haha! You're done Dirty Ó Dust! Your reign of terror over this peaceful kitchen ends now. Prepare to meet your demise by Henry™, my mighty spear!" declared the boy, holding the vacuum's handle with both hands and thrusting it forward to impale an imaginary opponent. Satisfied with his work, the young boy put the cleaning tool back in its storage room and, after eating his meal and making a short trip to the bathroom, climbed up the stairs to reach his room on the third floor.
Turning the door knob as quietly as possible, Seth slipped through the opening and tip-toed his way inside, checking if his roommates were still soundly sleeping as he moved towards his own bed. Once he was sure nothing could disturb him, the dark-haired quickly dispatched off his everyday attire to put on his pyjamas and began working on his homeworks under his sheets, a flashlight held in his left hand to illuminate his "work surface".
Today's assignments weren't the boy's favourites, but fortunately for him, he could always count on his memory. Among his several noticeable features, if people were more often scarred by his looks and "abilities", they were also impressed with how easily the boy could remember things and informations, even when he simply saw and/or heard them once; sometimes completed by a great number of details like the exact moment a line was pronounced in a speech or quoting precisely the time mark for a specific scene in a movie. Thus, while Seth could have some issues with certain subjects, he could always use his memory to remember what his teacher previously explained to see if it could give him the answer; which was quite fortunate for a child as unlucky and easily distracted as Sétanta.
Indeed, the young boy's attention was easy to grab, but difficult to maintain as his own thoughts would always try to interfere, causing him to daydream quite often, isolating his mind as the world continued to run. This singular behaviour could find its roots from other people trying to distance themselves from the kid ever since his reputation started to grow, which as time went on, made it difficult for Seth to distract himself when others avoided him the best they could. But he eventually found something to resolve this issue. Something which would not run away from the boy and express its distaste for him because it physically couldn't: books.
Reading had become Seth's hobby and his refuge from everyday's hardships. Whenever he felt depressed, he always tried to find a good story to read to help him relax and find the motivation to hope tomorrow would be a better day. And among the countless types of reading that existed, there was one that Seth preferred over anything else: the epics, those tales which narrated the great feats of mighty heroes and brave knights from long ago. Ever since he first laid his eyes on books telling the story of such heroes like Heracles or Finn Mac Cumhaill, he found himself fascinated by these larger than life characters and their incredible adventures; mixing outstanding acts of bravery, tragic events and impressive show of strengths and wits to finally overcome the odds and restore peace to the world or save innocent lives from a great evil.
This interest quickly grew into a fascination and then into an innocent worship of these legendary figures, as he looked for more similar tales to discover. And thus, Sétanta began visiting Cliffort's public library to a daily basis, always looking to find a new story to read or a new hero to discover, borrowing books about mythology left and right but always making sure to return them in time, knowing he would be really selfish to keep them too long and preventing others to have access to their knowledge… That and the fact he couldn't afford to pay the library's fine for delayed return.
Of course Seth's new interest wasn't unnoticed by others. And while some people like Margaret Mac Dermott thought it could be benefic for the young boy and tried to interact with him using elements from these epics, others like Robbie Ó Cinneide thought this kind of withdrawn behaviour just gave them more reasons to act like they usually did with him, seeing his mind seemed more concerned about some stupid books than himself. And thus began a new daily routine for Seth as he tried to escape Robbie and his friends from the library to the institute, which usually ended with him having to comply to the malicious boy's demands before resuming his trip towards the orphanage and arriving far too late to not be reprimanded.
"And done!" said Sétanta to himself, having finished the last of his assignments for tomorrow as he moved to put his ordered textbooks inside his school bag before taking out a larger book from it. Once he repositioned himself in his bed, now holding the flashlight by his teeth so he could use both of his hands to hold the book, the dark-haired began his reading session, knowing he shouldn't stay up late too much but deciding to prioritize his reading agenda since he would have to bring this book back soon. He then immersed himself in reading the tale, this time about a classic chivalric romance, as minutes morphed into hours and he fell asleep, dreaming of one day meeting a hero such as those whose lives captivated him.
Cliffort, Ireland, 15th of June 2000
05:00 PM
Another day had passed in the quiet little town of Cliffort, as fishermen returned home and pubs started to fill up. Indeed, it was really a fine day, which might explain why no one noticed the small figure in the horizon flying towards the coasts.
"I cannot believe he pulled this on me." said the figure in frustration, flying so fast it was difficult to discern details about them. "I just finished a one week assignation in Iceland and just when I was about to head back to Grigori, he called me for another mission just because he had 'no one on hand'." continued the person, who could be now identified as a man thanks to his deep voice, as he shook his head vigorously. "Pull yourself together! I shouldn't talk about Azazel like this. He is just doing his job and I'm sure he genuinely asked me this because no one could help for the moment."
Now nearing the port, the man proceeded to turn right and make a detour so he could land in a less populated area, where people wouldn't panic at the sight of a flying man with black-feathred wings. "Still… I hope the girls won't be too mad at me for being absent too long…"
05:10 PM
Once he managed to land and hide his ten black wings, the man made his way towards the nearest town to begin his last minute mission. It was when he entered Cliffort that the nearby townspeople finally took note of the newcomer. Clad in what could be best described as "a biker outfit", comprised of a large leather jacket, dark jeans pants and black boots, stood a muscular middle-aged man, slightly gruff-looking, with neck-length black hair cut short and a matching beard. A pair of large sunglasses and a red bandana completed his look while concealing his enough to prevent further details to be noticed.
"I swear… While I truly believe Sahariel is a brave man and a genius, I must admit he has terrible taste in clothes." said the man to himself, his hand stroking his chin as if he was in the midst of serious reflection. "I should start right away so I can find him as soon as possible. First I should interrogate the locals and find a map of the town and its surroundings. This kind of operation demands someone with good infiltration skills. And even though I consider myself a good soldier, I might not have enough tact to help me blend in. So how could I start a conversation with one of-"
"Excuse me sir, are you ok?"
"What?" jolted the biker as he turned around to see an older-looking man in full light green tracksuit, a chronometer hanging around his neck by a hand strap.
"I asked you if you were ok sir. I was doing my late afternoon run when I saw you standing still in the middle of the road and whispering to yourself." explained the man with genuine concern. "Are you bothered by something?"
"No! Not at all!" answered the bandana-wearing Fallen Angel, trying to not look panicked, but failing. "I… Uuuuh… I am just an innocent tourist passing by. That's all!"
"Oh really?" pondered the jogger. "That would explain why I've never seen your face around here. Usually I'm pretty good at remembering people." he continued before laughing a bit, quickly followed by the other man with a more awkward laugh. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what is the reason behind your visit to our little haven?"
"My reason? Well…" began the Fallen Angel, trying to find a plausible lead to justify his presence.
"Let me guess: motorbike issues?"
"Precisely!" quickly replied the biker. "I had some motorbike issues with my motorcycle and I had to make a stop in this town so someone could fix it."
"It's bad luck!" commented the grey-haired man, throwing a sympathetic smile in return. "You know what? Our local mechanic is an old mate of mine. So, if you tell him you know Casey Hely and that he sent you there, I'm sure he will give you a discount."
"Oh! Thank you! I'll remember that for sure." said the muscular man in an evasive tone.
"Sure look it! By the way, where is your motorbike?"
"My-my motorbike? Well… You see… It's pretty ironic you talked about your friend because I already gave him my motorcycle to repair." explained the Fallen Angel, trying to justify himself and dodge the weakness of his alibi.
"Really? But I just saw you enter the town that way." questioned Casey, pointing at the road behind the biker angel. "Are you saying that you walked all the way from the garage to the outskirts to then reenter the town by this side?"
"Ye-yes?" simply answered the taller man, unsure if this excuse worked as the tracksuit-wearing local squinted his eyes at him, and preparing to cast a memory-adjusting spell if he called his bluff.
"Ha! It's one great coincidence, eh? To meet me right after giving the old bloke your bike to fix. I presume you sir must have quite the pair of legs to walk that much in such a short amount of time?"
"... You're absolutely correct. It truly is one pleasant surprise. Haha!" awkwardly laughed the leather-wearing man once more, relaxed he didn't have to use magic to resolve this case.
"Indeed it is! I wouldn't mind running with someone like you who can go the distance." joked Casey before looking at the watch on his left wrist. "Anyway, I should get going or else my boss will make me sleep outside because I give a bad example to children. Since you just dropped your vehicle to the garage and you seem a bit lost, you can go to the tourist board. It's not very far and they should be still open at this hour. They will help find your way in town and probably get a room in a hotel to spend the night." explained the grey-haired as he turned towards the left. "You need to take this path, turn left, then right and finally left one more time so you can reach Giant Square. It's a small building painted in green and white, so you can't miss it!"
"I see. Thank you very much for this information." expressed the Fallen Angel as he moves his hand in front of Casey, leading the other to accept the handshake.
"You're welcome. I'll go have a talk with Stephen tomorrow so he can put your motorbike as a priority to fix. Even though it's always nice to have new people visit Cliffort and discover its appeal." joked one last time Casey as he moved past the taller man. "Hope to see you again in the future so we can go on the lash together. Goodbye!"
The biker didn't answer and simply waved at the other man's back, thanking him for his help but also knowing that the next they met he would have to modify his memory because of the mechanic's mention. He then moved in the direction Casey previously mentioned, hoping to obtain a town's map and a hotel room very soon so he could move on and advance in his mission. But suddenly…
"By the way, I didn't catch your name." shouted Casey as he walked back towards his new acquaintance. "How should I call you?"
"Me? My name is..." began the Fallen Angel as he fumbled around his attire to find the fake I.D prepared by one of the teams from the Administration Department. Once he got a hold of his passport, he quickly opened and read his new identity at loud. "Phillip Lawrence Donovan."
"Well, Phillip Lawrence Donovan, it was a real pleasure meeting you." saluted Casey one last time as he turned around. "Catch you later!"
Phillip watched as the man bid him farewell and departed on the other side of the road before giving a better look at the fake documents in his hands. 'So my name for this mission is Phillip Donovan. I'm pretty sure that Shemhazai must be the one behind this choice. He never gives twice the same identity.' thought the man now known as Phillip as a smile formed on his face when he mentioned his friend. 'Now let's see what other information I can find there in case I meet someone who also has questions about me.'
05:20 PM
Having followed the instructions given by Casey, Phillip had managed to reach Giant Square, Cliffort's oldest and most important part. On this square were assembled all the most important locations and businesses of the city, such as the town hall, the entrance of the covered market and of course the tourism board. The rest of the area was arranged with a round point to regulate the circulation and numerous small pedestrian streets and narrow dead ends between traditional houses and more "modern'' living buildings, built in red bricks to add a touch of originality.
But just as he began walking towards it, Phillip suddenly felt something coming from his right. Turning his head, he sensed a weak but still noticeable aura coming from one of the alleys.
'What is this? It's faint but… Could it be him?' thought the mysterious visitor. Without losing a single second, the man dashed in the direction of the aura, readying himself to face whatever entity he would meet at the end of this path. However, the scene he walked upon as he exited the small passage was not what he expected to see.
"Haha! Come on Seth! Run faster otherwise you will never get it back!"
"*Huff*… That-that's not *huff* fu-funny. Plea-please give me *huff* ba-back my book!"
"Hum... Sorry but no! If you want to get your stupid book back, you better start running faster or just man up for once in your lifetime and prove that indeed have balls hanging inside your shorts by facing us!" declared Robbie Ó Cinnéide in a tone full of smugness as he and five other boys continued to run around Seth, holding a large dark-green book in his hands. "Or else, you should prepare yourself for another few rounds of spars with Louie. You know he wants to be a professional boxer in the future, right?"
The scene unfolding under Phillip's eyes could be seen at first as a group of children playing a simple game of catch inside a small squared courtyard formed with home fronts. However, for someone like Phillip who had naturally heightened senses and a vast experience acquired over several centuries, it was easy for him to tell what was really happening just by reading the boy's movements and observing their expression with attention. Thus, he hypothesized that worned out-looking boy currently encircled by the other kids was the object of some sort of game where his little comrades made him run after them, given his out of breath position. However, where most people would have ended their observation there, the presence of small but definitely noticeable bruises on the boy, added to the "less than compassionate" expression worn by some of the children made Phillip think that he was witnessing something more akin to a punishment than a distraction. And even though his mission demanded of him to have as few interactions as possible with the townspeople, something inside of him couldn't allow to see a child in such a position and do nothing. Maybe because it was the right to do. Or maybe because he was a father.
"Excuse me young men!" boomed Phillip with his deep voice as he interpelled the group of boys.
"Huh?" pondered Robbie as he turned around, meeting an intimidating-looking stranger dressed as a biker. "Oh… Hello! What can I do for you sir?" quickly continued the short boy as he rearranged himself, switching to his "adult speaking" tone.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you while you were all playing together but, as I watched you interact with each other, I noticed something which troubled me."
"Oh really? And what could that be my good sir?"
"Could you tell why this young man is running around looking devastated?" politely asked Phillis as he pointed at Seth to specify who he was referring to, triggering a small alarm inside Robbie's head at the mention of Seth.
"Oh... This…" began the boy, trying to come up with a good lie. "This is just a game of Grabber. It's quite easy to grasp the rules. You see, the players form a circle with one of them at its center. Then, one player takes an object and throws it at another player so he or she can catch it and throw it at another one. Each time someone managed to catch the object, he earned one point. Meanwhile, the person who was put at the center, and referred as the "grabber', must intercept the object before someone else can, so he can earn a point too and escape the center. If he achieves this, the last person who has touched the ball before them must take their place at the center so the game can continue. The first participant who reaches 20 points has won the game." explained Robbie, speaking as clearly as possible to cover himself up while he added new details on the fly to give more weights to his words. "My friend Seth, the dark-haired boy you were concerned about, is not very good at this game, so he usually ends up as the grabber for most of the game. But since he is very dedicated at getting better, he will come out of most of the games looking out of breath. Are you reassured now, sir?"
Phillip, while slightly impressed by the boy's speech rate and polite behaviour, still had an uneasy feeling about all of this. Taking another quick look at the recovering lanky boy in the background, he decided to push his interrogations further. "I may look a bit indelicate but could you inform me how this young man got the bruises visible on his arms and legs?"
Surprised that his usual silver tongue didn't manage to get an adult off his back, Robbie tried to keep his composure as he began to formulate another justification. "The bruises? Haha, well that's just Seth for you!" joked Robbie to lighten up the tense atmosphere around him as he moved to grab Sétanta by the arm and drag him in front of the stranger. "This poor fella has the worst luck ever since he was born. There is not a day without him being at the receiving end of some cruel joke from fate itself and where he most often ends up with one or two new lump to add to his collection. I can attest that since we have been the best of mates for a long time. But you can ask anybody from the town and they will tell the same. Am I right Seth?" he asked the other boy, elbowing not so lightly in the ribs as a message to not screw him up and validate his explanations.
Sétanta, for his part, had his eyes glued to the large figure in front of him, hoping his trusted cap would prevent the man from noticing him. Ever since he had made his presence known, the young boy felt some sort of pressure emanating from the stranger, making him feel both scarred by it and the biker in the process and, as strange as it sounded, relaxed with a sense of comfort. All these thoughts made it quite difficult for him to centrate on the words expressed by the others until a sudden shock on his right side brought him back to the current situation. "Huh? What?"
"I just asked to confirm my words. So hurry up and answer so we can go back to play!" intervened Robbie, emphasizing the word "play" in a way that broke Seth's short lived sense of safety.
"Oh-oh-oh so-sorry! I wa-wasn't li-li-listening-g. Ro-ro-robbie is r-"
But as he began to justify the pig-nosed kid's speech, Seth's eyes once again landed on the impressive figure of the man standing right in front of him, feeling his gaze on his head which made him interrupt his sentence.
"You were saying, young man?" asked Phillip to the cap-wearing boy, finding his hesitation quite suspicious.
"I... Huh... It's…" began Seth, insecure about what to say or even what to do as every pair of eyes inside the courtyard were fixed on his figure, resulting in his complete silence as he instinctively grabbed the edges of his cap to cover his face even more.
Seeing his reaction, and even though he was the first to admit that child psychology could not be considered one of his strong points, Phillip knew this kind of behaviour was not the proof of someone feeling secure. He then remembered what some of the words the kids were saying before he made his presence known.
"I just remembered something." expressed Phillip at loud. "If my memory serves me right, I heard you earlier talk to this young man about preparing himself for some spars with someone named Louie. Could this be the origin of the marks on this young man?"
'That old snooper! Why is he so persistent?!' thought Robbie as he slowly grew more and more irritated of this stupid old man who dared contradict his trusted word. "I don't know what you're talking about. Louie is my friend right here and I can assure you he is nothing but the most docile child you could ever imagine. And I thought we already made it clear why Seth is like this! If you're looking for a culprit, then go look for life itself because I'm pretty sure no one screwed this bloke more than her!" began Robbie, hoping to finally get rid off the nuisance in his short life, not noticing the small cracks appearing in his speech as he started to lose his temper.
"Uh Robbie…"
"Zip it Adam! I'm not in the mood for your nonsense!" bursted Robbie, whose frustration had finally made itself visible on the boy's rosey chubby face. "And what if this idiot took one swing or two from us? We are just roughing him up a bit so he can finally grow a pair and stop being such a coward!"
After Robbie's final outburst, an heavy silence fell on the courtyard once more as the children awaited the bearded man's response, looking cautiously as he crossed his arms, adopting a severe posture.
"So I was right…" slowly said Phillip, whose deep voice suddenly awoke Robbie from his enraged state, making him realize the menacing tone and pose the man had adopted.
"Wait! I was angry and I let my words say things that were wrong! Don't pay attention to this and let's start on a new basis!" fumbled the small boy, hoping to appease the muscular man but noticing his sweet words did not seem to reach him at all. Seeing this, he opted for another plan which seemed more suited to the situation, consisting of him running away on his short legs as he screamed for his life. "AAAAAH! YOU'll PAY FOR THIS! I don't know who you are but I'll tell my parents about you and they will drive you out of town! YOU'LL SEE!"
Soon, he found himself being imitated by most of the other boys who quickly took off after him, leaving only Phillip and Seth left inside the courtyard. And while one was too scared to say or do anything, the other was still shocked by the outcome of the previous situation and didn't know exactly how to move on. And while his logic would say to him to just leave the scene and return to his mission, his mind stayed focused on what happened here a few moments ago, until he noticed the object used by the kids for their game still laying on the ground.
Reaching to grab it, Phillip took a hold of the large green book, which definitely seemed to have known better days, reading the title in his head and chuckling at the irony of the situation. 'The Tales of the proud Thunder Knight, huh? I feel that, somewhere, someone must be laughing at this.'
"I believe this item must belong to you." indicated Phillip as he handed the book to the shaking dark-haired boy who, after hesitating for a few instants, grabbed it and held it close to him.
"Th-thank you-you sir." mumbled Seth, still on the edge but feeling a bit more confident now that he had his book back. "I-I'm so-sorry you had to be pu-pulled into my me-mess…"
"You do not have to thank me. I just did what I thought was the right thing to do. You should never stay on the side while someone is being abused by others." explained Phillip, hoping to teach something useful to the young boy for his future. "By the way, can I ask you something?"
"Ye-yes sir!"
"Are you often bullied by the children?" asked Phillip with concern in his voice.
"Oh… N-no…"
"I want you to tell me the truth." insisted the biker.
'Shoot! How did all the adults know when I'm lying?' thought Seth annoyed but also impressed by the wits of the sunglasses-wearing man. After a few more uneasy seconds of silence, the boy simply closed his eyes and nodded at the man.
"I see. And did you tell anyone about it?"
Repeating the same process, the boy this time moved his head horizontally to answer the Fallen Angel question. "Mmmh. And can I ask why?"
"Be-because Ro-robbie and the others wou-would make me pay fo-for this…" answered Seth with a small and hesitant voice. "And-and it would pro-prove them that I'm rea-really just a co-co-coward!"
The older man didn't immediately reply, instead taking a small breath before putting one knee to the ground so he could be at the level of the teary-eyed kid in front of him. "I heard the other kids refer to you as Seth. I presume that must be your name. Am I correct?"
"Mmh Mmh."
"Good. Then listen carefully Seth: There are no such things as calling someone a coward because he decided to act with reason and not respond to provocations. You are the only ruler of your destiny and no one should have the right to decide which choice you should make, except if they want to offer you some genuine help without selfish purposes. You must learn to make this distinction and understand its importance. If you achieve this and apply it with the right decisions, you will see your life in a whole new angle." explained Phillip, taking his sunglasses off so Seth could look at him in the eye which failed as the boy hid his gaze behind his cap once more.
However, the words of the Fallen Angel managed to connect with the boy's mind as his sniffing stopped and his mind started to ponder about the man's lesson. After another short pause without words being said, Seth slowly lifted his head and saw the large man still looking at him, his calm gaze fixed on the boy's figure.
"So, will you make efforts and try speaking to responsible adults about your situation?"
Still unsure of what to think, Sétanta assembled all the small fragments of courage inside his mind to help him answer. "Ye-ye-yes…"
"I did not hear you. What did you say?"
"Ye-yes…"
"Still too quiet. You need to answer me with conviction." nonchalantly explained Phillip, trying to help the boy come out of his shell.
"YES!" shouted Seth, throwing his fists in the air at the same time. The effects of his little outburst hit him almost immediately and he soon returned to his previous posture, feeling way too embarrassed by what just transpired.
'Mmh. That's a start. He will need more time to adjustate but he has found the way to escape this issue and maybe even some others." thought Phillip, smiling at the innocence of the child, making him remember his own with scenes like these. "Good. Now that I have your word, I know I can trust you to make the right things and resolve this problem." developed the man as he stood up. "You might never know but maybe you will help more than only you by speaking of what these children do. And it's asserting oneself during these moments that makes the value of a man. Not throwing blows at each other stupidly. Make sure to remember that."
"Yes sir!" boomed Seth as he saluted the man, mimicking what he did the night before to his headmistress.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some affairs to attend to. Have a nice day, young man." saluted Phillip as he waved at the kid before moving towards the exit and returning to the main square.
"Goodbye sir! Have a nice d- *Crash*"
At the sound of something colliding with a surface and breaking on it, Phillip turned around and watched as the same boy he was talking to less than one second ago laying face first on the ground, dirt on the back of his head and cap, as the remains of a flower pot made of terracotta stood next to him.
"Oh no…" breathed Phillip before rushing towards the boy lying on the ground. "Young man! Are you ok?! Can you hear me?!" asked the man in a panicked tone, checking his pulse to see if he was just unconscious… or maybe worse… Fortunately, his fears came to an end almost immediately.
"Ouch…" groaned Sétanta as he pushed on one of his frail arms with difficulty to get back up, the other busy scratching the back of his head. "Why does it always have to be on the head…"
For his part, Phillip, while feeling relieved the dark-haired didn't look badly injured, was shocked to see a human, moreover a child, managed to recover that quickly from such a hit. However, these new questions could wait, because in this kind of situation, his duties as an adult were the priority. "Are you alright young man? Can you hear me loud and clear? Are you hurt anywhere specific?"
"Haaa… I'm fine but thanks for asking." answered the boy as he continued to feel his head. "Oh shoot! I'm going to have a lump tomorrow…"
"I'm glad that you're not hurt. But where did this pot came from?"
"Probably from the balcony on the fourth floor of this building." said Seth as he pointed at the nearest construction with his thumb. "I heard that the old lady who lives there has a collection of potted plants. One of them must have slipped because of the wind and crashed on me."
"The fourth floor?!" questioned Phillip outloud, looking up to find one balcony full of various types of flowers and vegetation inside multiple terracotta pots, confirming the boy's theory. But this new information alarmed Phillip about what he was thinking a few moments ago. 'How can this boy be ok after such a hit? If we combine the height it fell from plus the weight and durability of the pot, a normal child would have had his skull cracked on impact. But for him, it just felt like a simple knock on the head.' "Are you sure you're feeling good? That looked like a painful hit."
"Do not worry. This isn't the first time something like this has happened to me." reassured Seth, before muttering under his breath "And definitely not the last one either…", something Phillip didn't miss.
'Intriguing…' commented the Fallen Angel in his head as he watched the kid trying to scrap the dirt off his cap, complaining about having washed only two days ago, before he put it back and turned towards him.
"Uh sir?"
"Mh yes?" said Phillip as his mind returned to the conversation he was having with the lanky boy. "Sorry, I was thinking about something else."
"Can… Can I ask you something too?"
"Of course. What do you wish to know?" responded Phillip, still unsure exactly why he was acting so casually with this child he had never met beforehand.
"I've never seen you around here. Are you a tourist or something similar?"
"Oh… Uhhh… Yes! You are absolutely correct: I'm indeed a tourist whose purpose is to visit this region!" hastily replied the Fallen Angel.
"I was trying to find the local tourist board before meeting you but I got lost and ended here."
"Oh you don't have to worry. The office is just at the corner when you exit the street. Turn right and you'll be there." explained the youngest male between the two.
"Thank you for your cooperation. Now that I know you're not hurt, I should take my leave. Have a good…"
But just as he was about to finish biding his farewell, something came up inside the bearded man's mind. An idea which at first seemed quite unexpected and that could expose him and his operation if something went wrong but could also prove to be pretty useful if pulled correctly. "Tell me young man, are you familiar with this town and its surroundings?"
"Uh? Of course! I've lived here all my life and I know every ins and outs of Cliffort." replied Seth with more energy than usual.
"Then, could you do me a favour and be my guide for the duration of my trip in this town? You can refuse and I won't hold anything against you."
"What? You want me to be your guide?" repeated the boy, shocked that someone asked for his help, a complete stranger nonetheless.
"Yes. To tell you the truth, I'm usually really shy and I'm afraid talking to the employees of the tourism office will make me too nervous." lied Phillip the best he could, which meant pretty badly. He felt bad for pulling such a trick on a young child who wasn't aware of the Supernatural world, but he had to accomplish his duty. Moreover, if the boy stayed close to him, he would have less chance of being in danger if his target was indeed here on the loose. "So? What is your answer?"
Seth wasn't really sure if helping someone he first met roughly fifteen minutes ago in a close courtyard after he scared six children was the best idea he ever had. "Stranger Danger" was a notion he was aware of, at least to some degrees. But seeing that the man had saved him from his daily tormentors and seemed not as menacing as his outfit portrayed him to be, he decided to apply the lessons he just learned and do the right thing. "OK! I will help around town sir!"
"Wonderful! Thank you very much!" thanked Phillip, stretching his hand for a handshake to seal their agreement, which Seth accepted after observing it for a moment, his small hand completely covered by the man's large one. "Let me introduce myself: my name is Phillip Donovan!"
"Nice to meet you Mr. Donovan. My name is Sétanta. but you can call me Seth. Everybody in town seems to call me that way."
"Well it's nice to make your acquaintance Sétanta. Now that we settled this, I have to find a hotel to stay. Do you know a good one around here? We probably should hurry in case they close their registration early."
"You're right! We could maybe try first the…" began Seth before stopping in his track and looking at his watch. "The time… OH NO! I'm going to be late again!"
"Late for what if you don't mind me asking?"
"I-I'm so-sorry . We shou-should go look for your ho-hotel room fa-fast! I know-know a good one who-which is close to us. Le-le-let's go!" stammered the cap-wearing dark-haired as he started to run in panic, grabbing his bag on the way and putting his book back inside.
'Huh… What a strange boy.' thought Phillip as he watched him run. 'Still, I think keeping an eye on him is the right thing to do. First there was the strange aura I sensed emanating from this place and after that, this incident with the pot and his lack of reaction from getting hit by it. Also, even though he has quite the number of bruises on his arms and legs, he doesn't look bothered at all by them. Maybe there is more to this town than just a rampaging Stray Devil to exterminate.'
"Sir! Are you co-co-coming or not?!"
"Oh yes sorry! I'm right behind you!" exclaimed Phillip as he took off after the boy.
And while the new duo formed by a Fallen Angel in disguise and a local kid with strange attributes left their previous locations, their thoughts focused on the days to come, somewhere under them, hidden behind the bars of drainage grid, a pair of sly yellow eyes stopped observing them and began thinking about how they should deal with this new problem.
Aaaaaaand done!
Hope you liked this chapter! If you thought it was boring, then fear not! Because the next issue will be a lot more "eventful" than this one. My goal here was to start the worldbuilding of this universe with a more human basis before jumping into the more "wild" Supernatural side. But that doesn't mean the whole story is going to stay like this. I just want to start slow and let my characters grow before diving into the flashy and mysterious adventures that await us in the future. So let's wait and see what fate has for Seth and Phillip. By the way, I wonder what could be his real identity? Maybe you already know… ;) (I'm so good at building suspense! *sarcasm*)
Anyway, that's all for now! I thank you all once more for reading my story and I encourage you to Follow and Fav if you liked it but most importantly, it would warm my heart if you gave me a review! (Whether it's to say I'm the greatest writer in the world or that I should stop this and never touch a keyboard or even a pen ever again, you can comment about anything regarding the story. However, please be constructive. If you just want to write insults and be mean, don't do it here. You already have Twitter to do this on a daily basis.)
In the meantime: Have a nice day!
