Chapter Three: Deceiver of Fools

One year later…

Jonathan Wayland's first birthday was here, and Valentine couldn't give him what he wanted, since he was too young to talk. The only word he could say was father. Valentine remembered when he first said that word; he felt so proud that day.

Two months ago, the servant was feeding Jonathan mushy baby food. It had been a relief to Valentine that he had finally gotten off his milk diet. Fake protein milk was hard to come by, since women in Idris mostly breast fed their young and there was no need for replacements.

Jonathan was happily eating when he saw Valentine pass by. "Potder," he said, knocking the baby spoon out of the servant's hand, splattering soupy, green slush all over the floor.

Valentine smiled, knowing that his boy meant father. The other Jonathan, though almost a year older, still couldn't speak, or didn't want to. The thought of the other Jonathan slightly brought down his cheerful mood.

Though his real child looked so much like him, demon blood still coursed through his veins. He was destructive, even as a baby. Valentine had always loathed demons. Just the thought of them made him want to destroy something. Demons were the spawns from hell and they were against God. Valentine was very religious, yet he would do anything to make the world pure, even if that involved going against God to retrieve demon blood for his son to become a warrior in an upcoming war.

Valentine would always despise demons. He'd also despise the demon part of his son. If Jonathan were to turn evil, he'd be forced into loathing his own son.

Jonathan Wayland had been the complete opposite, like the angel whose blood was in him. He was soft and happy, a captivating air almost emanating from him. Valentine knew that when he got older, he would have to whip him into shape if he wanted him to be his warrior. If he let Jonathan go on like he was now, he would be pathetic. A loving fool, and he would get hurt.

A sharp pain shot through Valentine. He had been a loving fool once. He had only loved Jocelyn, his beautiful Jocelyn. But she nearly killed him… love and betrayal was the worst weapon anyone could use. Trust was also something you had to be cautious about and Valentine was willing to do anything so that both of his sons would know that.

Jocelyn had lived, and took the Mortal Cup with her. Valentine knew it, and when he needed the Cup, he would find her. At the moment, Valentine had no desire for the Cup. He had two soldiers to raise, two sons to bring up in his likeness.

The night of the Accords, after he had taken Jonathan Wayland to the Wayland estate along with Jonathan Morgenstern, he had to come up with a plan. He knew he couldn't have both the boys in the same house hold. Michael Wayland only had one son therefore, only one son could stay at the manor. Also the real Jonathan would most likely harm his adoptive Jonathan out of jealously, a common demonic trait.

He had relocated his real son to Hodge's childhood home by a lake – knowing that no one would ever go there since Hodge was in exile – where Valentine would spend half of his time. He would spend time with his angel boy and his demon boy, dividing his attention and his teachings among them.

Valentine had already begun to put his plan into motion. One year had passed and his adoptive Jonathan could walk and was on his way to learning how to talk, one word at a time.. The real Jonathan was more agile when he walked and Valentine knew he could understand him, but he didn't speak a word.

As much as Valentine tried, his son wouldn't ever speak to him. He would never make any noise: never cry, never talk. Only stare. Valentine assumed that it was the demon blood that caused him to be so disobedient. He worried that he would never have the patience or the compassion to follow him. The boy was a monster.

Valentine wanted to have both of them as his soldiers, but a part of him would still rather spend his time with his loving angel then the demon child of his. He felt remorseful that he treated the adoptive better than the one he helped create.

With Jocelyn. Perhaps that was the reason, he was resentful to his blood son. Not because he had demon blood, not because the other angel boy was more pleasant to be around, but because he had Jocelyn's blood.

Jonathan Wayland, who was sitting on the floor watching his father with curious eyes, began to crawl over to him. He used the side table to help him stand as he tried with much effort to get onto the couch where his father sat gazing out the window, his attention absorbed in his theorization.

Valentine glanced down at the boy, who pulled his thoughts away from his ex wife and their child. "Happy Birthday, Jonathan," said Valentine, helping the boy up onto his lap.

A/N: As promised, you got chapter three by Saturday. Want the next chapter? Leave reviews, they make me write faster. Well not really, but they do make me feel inspired to write. If you leave a review, you will be put in the shout out section of my fanfiction :D

Shout Outs to AWESOME PEOPLE…

Aubrey for being awesome! She's my editor and I'm eternally grateful to her.

burningimpossiblybright [fanfiction won't put the x's and dots in your name for some reason] for being the first to leave a review for the past few chapters! Thank you so much.

Baron Hotschaft Von Hugenstein for finding out where my titles come from. [Within Temptation songs for those who don't know] and for leaving the longest reviews! I love them.

My Mom for telling random people about my fanfiction even though she has no idea what fanfiction is.