Salazar from fen. Or Sal, as he was affectionately known by his loving, gracious, magical mother and hero-worshipping younger brother. Or "boy" as he was not-so-affectionately known by his harsh, cold, and utterly normal father.
His father, quite obviously, did not know of his sons' or wife's magic. Though his mother insisted that there had once been love between her and her husband, that love no longer seemed to exist. Indeed, Abelard Slytherin seemed to only keep his wife around because she was a Princess, daughter of a Prince, of what used to be a fierce enemy. As such, there had never been so much as a rumor of witchcraft surrounding the Princess Slendora. To have been suspicious of royalty… Well, one may as well had declared war.
Besides, the only person who had known of Splendora's magical heritage had been her nursemaid, a kindly old Druid woman named Agatha, who had taught the young Princess how to hide her powers.
"Hide your true self—but do not forget that you are truly powerful," the nurse had told her. She later told the same to her young sons.
While his younger brother, Selenus, had nodded sagely, Sal had been confused.
"But why, Mama?" the young boy questioned. "Is not power something to be proud of?"
"Of course it is, m'dear," she had said. "But 'tis not always prudent to make it known. The people with the most power are those who know when to show it."
Of the two boys, Selenus was far more favoured by their father. The younger boy was far better with the sword and was broad enough to easily command respect from his future army. And while Salazar had the silver tongue that would make such an army irrelevant, Abelard did not see this, being too war-hungry. He saw only his younger, stronger son, and resented Salazar and his mother that the weaker had been born first, thus making him heir.
But, at night, under the cover of the moon and stars, it was Sal who had the upper hand as their mother taught the boys how to brew a potion, or change one object into another, or control the wind with the flick of a wrist. While working under the heat of the sun, being knocked about by the swords of his father and brother, Sal felt powerless and longed for the cool of the moon, when he felt as though he were the most powerful being in the world. His mother was always astonished with his progress.
"One day you may yet outmatch Hecate!" she would say. And then, to comfort his younger brother, she would add, "and you may yet outmatch Charlemagne. With such strong sons, I shall never have to live in fear a day in my life.
Unfortunately, this would not be true.
The lessons that Salazar enjoyed most of all, however, took place in the forests during the summer months—and were such that his brother could not participate in, for he had not the gift that Sal and their mother had. So, on very special nights, Sal and his mother would simply sit in the lightly cooled forest under the moonlight until they were suddenly surrounded by them.
Serpents.
Sal could sit all night listening to the small creatures' talk of hunting and freedom and lying about in the sun, and longed to run off and do the same as his slithering friend. But, without fail, in the darkest hours of the night, just before morning, his mother would bundle him back inside of their home and into his bed.
"Your father must not know," she would tell both boys after each lesson. Both would nod their heads, taking their mother's words deep to heart.
Those were the good days.