Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1)

by Brent Lee Markee

  Chapter 1

  Beautiful Dawn, Baleful Dusk

  Year 3041 AGD

  Month: Year's End

  Fourth Sixth Day

  Continent of Terroval

  City of Safeharbor

  Civilian Sector

  Shaylyn sat at her window, in the house that she had occupied for the last two decades of her long life. She watched as Victor played outside, the boy that she now considered her son. Once again, she found herself recalling the events that had transpired nearly seven years ago. She knew that her duty was to teach Victor everything she could. Shaylyn also understood that his childhood would be short, and that Victor would have to grow up quickly. Ever since she had been told about the boy she knew what her role would be in raising him. What she didn't know was what would happen to her, or to him, to make Victor be orphaned again. Another thing that she could not have known, and had not expected was that she would fall in love with the boy. She loved him as much as she had her own children, and grandchildren, once long ago.

  “Why does this have to happen?” she asked to the window as she stared into the street. “What will happen to him?” A shiver ran down her spine as she realized it was the first time she had uttered such a question aloud. She instinctively knew that time was growing short. She stood up from her seat at the window to make Victor lunch, silently wishing she could do more.

  Anyone looking towards the window would see the same thing they always saw, a broken down home with a boarded window. It fit in well with all of the other buildings around it, but it was all an illusion. Shaylyn is a rare breed of caster called a Mystic. This means that not only is she a Shaper, or what most would refer to as a Mage, but she is also a devout follower of a god who has granted her the ability to use a small portion of their power. Using the power granted to her by the God of her people, she had cast a glamor over her home twenty years earlier so that no one would see when she made changes to the house.

  Had anyone outside been able to see the beautiful woman in the window they would have stood transfixed upon her image. Her long silvery hair flowed down around her, framing her form in such a way that a persons gaze would be directed straight into eyes the color of a calm sea. The Half Elven features that she had adopted stood out in her face and body. When she moved, she seemed to glide instead of walk. She missed her red hair, but it had turned silver long before she met Victor. She wore the silvery gray proudly though, as the mantle of a life well lived.

  *****

  “Hey guys!” Victor was wearing his new clothes that Shaylyn had bought him for school that would be starting on the second Fifthday of New Year. Having left his hat behind, his golden blonde hair was blowing in the slight winter sea breeze that flowed through the alley.

  “What do you want?” the largest of the street kids asked. They were playing a game that was not uncommon in this part of town. The game was called thievery. They were currently looking over there newest winnings.

  “That's not yours, I saw you take it. You should give it back to the person it belongs to.” He motioned to the bag that the large young thug was carrying.

  “You've got a lot of nerve for a kid.” The large boy shot back even though he couldn't have been much older than twelve or so himself. He also looked quite annoyed with this new nuisance that presented itself in the form of a six-year-old boy. His clothes and the clothing of the kids around him were covered in patches, and were worn down where time had left its mark. Their faces were grim and unwashed, and their hair looked to be about the same color as their bodies, dirty.

  “I just know you're not supposed to steal from anyone.” Growing more confident in his position, he took a few steps towards the group of kids. There were six of them, and one of him, but he still knew that he was in the right. Therefore, he assumed that they would not be able to stop him, and besides, they couldn't be much worse than Orcs.

  “That's easy for you to say, I bet you've never had to starve before have ya?” The large boy pointed at Victor and then looked over at his companions. “Look at those clothes, there isn't a hole on 'em anywhere that there isn't supposed to be. That's all I need is some rich merchant's son tellin' me that stealin' is wrong!” The other boys nodded while glowering at the young boy.

  “Why would you starve? Doesn't your father work? Doesn't the city give food to those that need it?” The gray-eyed boy rattled off these questions without a thought. Shaylyn had always told him to voice his questions when he had them, so he asked them without hesitation. When he finished his questions this time however, he received the business end of an angry twelve year old. He was sent sprawling to the ground surprisingly hard, this would be just one of many lessons that he would learn early in life(From this encounter he learned something that he would share with others later on in life, “Be careful what you say to something larger than you, and if you aren't careful about what you're saying, be ready to duck.”).

  “You think you're special, just because you haven't the need for nothin'?” Victor saw moisture beginning to well up in the eyes of the boy. Then the boy surprised Victor for a second time by turning his back and walking quickly past his companions. Victor guessed that the boy was trying to hide his tears from his friends. “Let's go guys…”

  “But… that's all you're gonna…” A kid who couldn't have been more than eight began to ask before he got a cold look from the larger, older boy and decided to shut up.

  Standing slowly, and still a bit confused Victor got up, and spoke softly, but loud enough so that the children walking away could hear. “I'm sorry… I didn't know… forgive me.” If any of the kids heard him, they didn't show it. They just continued to walk back down the street and then swiftly disappeared around the corner following their leader. After dusting himself off and checking to see if anything had torn, he straightened his clothes and stood silently for a moment. He let the taste envelop his mouth as the gash in his lip saturated his mouth with blood. Victor then slowly made his way back into the house where he knew he would be able to get some aid with his lip, and in figuring out what exactly had just happened.

  *****

  Victor was sitting stoically in a chair as Shaylyn stood over him with a wet cloth. She had to look away from the mark that was starting to turn black and blue on his face, and the gash on his lip. Not one tear… he is only six years old, but he didn't shed a single tear.

  “Victor, why did that boy hit you?” she asked, trying not to sound too worried, but a slight tremble that she couldn't stifle could still be heard in her voice. She held the cloth on his lip to soak up the blood on his face, and then she applied a bit of pressure to help the bleeding stop.

  “I deserved it… I was not being courteous of his feelings. I insulted his honor, and I have learned a lesson for it.” Victor looked up at her with eyes that were somehow older than they had been just minutes earlier. His Gray eyes had always betrayed intelligence beyond his years, but now his eyes were sharper, he had become a little more aware. “I know it was wrong of them to steal, but I didn't know that they had it so bad… is it wrong to steal if you don't have anything?”

  “Well Victor that is a question which many people have asked. Society has laws against stealing, but in a place like this, it is the only way that some of these people can survive. Those people that have the will to do more than just survive though will only steal until they can earn enough, or are given a chance to leave the confines of there imprisonment.”

  Looking around confused, Victor asked “So all the people that are stealing are in jail?”

  She then remembered that she was talking to a six year old boy, whether he was just as smart as most of the people she had ever known didn't matter, he still had the innocence of a six year old's inexperience. “No honey.” She smiled at him. “It is a manner of speech, it means that they are trapped in the life that they are in, and either they need help, or are too afraid of something to even try to get out of it.”

  “Well I'm glad I have you here to ke
ep me off the streets, and I sure learned a few lessons today.” He said this as he rubbed the area that was now swollen. “What are they afraid of?”

  “What? Who?” She looked at him inquisitively.

  “I'm talking about the people that have to steal to survive. Why would they be afraid to get out of that kind of life? Wouldn't it be better for them if they did?”

  “Well, some people are afraid to succeed, just to fall again, and some feel like they have found the family that they have never had. They form these tight bands in which they feel like brothers and sisters.”

  “Oh, I see… that's sad.” He looked at her with those eyes that could say a thousand words with nothing but a glance. She could clearly see the pain in him, and then, rolling down his cheek, there was a single tear.

  In a whisper she said, “Well, it's good you learned your lesson… Just try not to learn another one too soon.” She then proceeded to pull him into one of the tightest hugs that she had ever given him. How could she not, Victor had been beaten up and then he came to her without as much as a whimper, and after he learned about the struggle that some of these people go through he had shed a tear, not for his pain, but for theirs. If he continues this way, he will be the kind of man that we need him to be, she thought.

  *****

  Year 3041 AGD

  Month: Year's End

  Fourth Eighthday

  Eve of New Beginnings

  Continent of Terroval

  City of Safeharbor

  Civilian Sector

  The last day of Year's End was upon them, and it was cold. The chill had sent shivers down Victor's spine. This was not the kind of cold that is created from external temperate stimuli, but the dreaded cold when you somehow know that it is going to be a long dreadful day. Something was urging him to get up, urging him to look around. He took his head out from under the covers of the heavy quilt that had been given to him to keep him safe and warm. The bright light of the morning sun hit his eyes like a thousand needles. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he was slowly able to focus on his surroundings. Everything appeared as it usually did, except that dreadful sun. He was in his room, and he had awoken facing the window. He was looking at a fully blossoming morning sun, and it looked to his sleepy mind, more like a painting that had been framed to look like a window than an actual window. If it had not been for the brightness that was piercing at his eyes, he would have been sure that it was a work of art. It was a beautifully painful way to start out the day, and the sun rose red over the horizon.

  There was the slight aroma of damp firewood burning in the cooking stove, mixed with the more interesting aroma of cooking bacon. After a moment of concentration he could even hear the crackle of the bacon's grease in the pan. After slowly climbing out of bed, he groggily walked to the door that separated his room from the main room; where he knew breakfast would soon be waiting. He reached for the doorknob, and found that it was still chilly to the touch. The fire from the stove had not been lit long enough to warm the metal. Turning the knob slowly, so as not to alert anyone of his presence, he began opening the door. He had it about half way open when the door decided to make everyone aware of its presence, and give Victor's position away with a loud groan.

  “Good morning Victor,” came the familiarly melodic voice of Shaylyn.

  Having been found out, he gave a quick angry glare at the door before he cheerily replied. “Good morning Shaylyn.” He opened his betrayer all the way, without another noise from the thing, and took a step into the main room.

  Shaylyn turned around gracefully and flashed him that loving smile that she had ready for him every morning. He remembered telling her that if he ever met an angel, he was sure that it would look just like her. Even though she was not his real mother, he knew that she loved him as if she was. She had told him the basics of the story of his birth, as she knew of it, on his sixth birthday last year. She thought that he was ready to know at the time, and she still felt that she was right. He knew there was a lot expected of him, even if he didn't know exactly what, but he just wanted to be a kid. He did not yet fully appreciate the burden that had been placed on his shoulders, but he would eventually. Of course, his being a kid was a lot different than any other kid would consider just being a kid.

  He had started training as a shaper at the age of three, right after he learned how to read and write. She had also taught him Elven and Draconic to prepare him for his studies and life. Then, when he had turned five, she started to teach him self-defense, and the art of the blade. He was still rather clumsy at times, but she wanted to get the basics ingrained into him. All of that training didn't leave a lot of room for actual playing around. Shaylyn always seemed to find a way to make the lessons fun so that he didn't seem to notice, or care about, the difference between training and playtime. Shaylyn often told him that she wished that she could have raised him like a normal child. She knew that his life would be nothing close to normal, and that he would need to know what she had to teach him, and he accepted that as fact.

  “It's about time you got up; I was wondering if you had died in there. It wouldn't be good for you to have died on the morning before your birthday.”

  Victor quickly assumed his best “manly pose,” which was funny to see a scrawny seven-year-old boy try to pull off. Then he stated boldly, “I can't die, who would be here to protect you.”

  Her smile slipped a little, “and you think that I need protecting?”

  He replied without missing a beat, “of course, you're a girl!”

  Now she was becoming a little exasperated with him. “Oh, and who told you that boys can protect girls better than girls can protect themselves?”

  Looking up at her like he had never thought to argue the point before he simply stated, “My teacher at school. She said that the role of the man was to protect life and provide for the family.”

  “Oh, really? What else did she say Victor?” She let him know that she was a bit agitated by her tone of voice, and the look she shot him.

  He gave her a look that said he was worried about making her mad, but when he realized that he wasn't going to get breakfast until they had finished the conversation, he went on. “Well she said that women were weaker than men and that it was our duty to protect them because they…” he hesitated, “…cannot protect themselves. Is that not right?” He said this all with the most innocent expression that he could muster.

  He saw her thinking, and her entire posture reflected the fact that she was inwardly debating with herself. He thought that she might get angry, though she had rarely ever gotten even upset with him. Instead, she scooped him up off the ground and kissed him on the forehead.

  “You sweet innocent child, what have I taught you over all these years? Better yet, instead of telling me what your teacher said let me ask you what your opinion is on this before I start another long lecture.”

  He looked at her with those eyes that a soon-to-be seven year old should not possess and gave her a slight smile. “That's what I thought.” That's all he said, then he looked at her and smiled like he had done something right and he should get a present.

  After a few moments, she could bear the silence no longer. “What do you mean that's what you thought?” He knew that she knew he was waiting for the right moment to say whatever it was that he was going to say, and he knew it annoyed her sometimes how well she had taught him to play a crowd. After a few seconds of silence, he started to explain himself.

  “Well, I told the teacher that it really depended on the person. I explained about a lot of the women you have told me stories about, like the Tyradril Sisters, High commander Marisa Windsbane, and the evil priestesses of the god of pain. I told her there were a lot more examples, but I'm only six years old and I can't be expected to know all of them. Then I told her that by all accounts those women that I mentioned could hold their own, if not even best, the hardiest of men.”

  As the smile returned to Shaylyn's features, she embraced Victor into o
ne of her famous hugs that he secretly loved so much. After struggling out of her grasp and regaining his breath Victor took the cue to continue. “So, she gave me the look of death… She said that just because there are some women in the world that have extraordinary abilities, that doesn't mean that you could treat women like you would a man. I looked at her and I said that if a woman was charging at me with a sword, I was not going to stop her, have a polite conversation and casually ask her if she knew how to use it before I defended myself.” After a moment of thought he said, “ I still wish they'd put me in a higher class.”

  “Victor, you are already studying with children three or four years your senior, you cannot expect an institute to raise you up grades without even testing you. Remember, if you were on the mainland the children you are studying with would be considered exceptional also. You are in as high of a grade as you should be, and I'm not going to force you any faster than I already have, the institute can teach you common things that I would never think to teach you.”

  He had surprised her yet again. She had known since before his birth that he was not going to be anywhere near the average man, assuming the men and women of Terroval could even be considered average in any sense of the word. Another thing she knew was that he was destined to great things depending on the direction that life and fate took him. She had originally planned to wait to teach him how to shape the world around him until he was fourteen. Who could have guessed however that the boy's talent would first show itself at the age of three! She would have been more surprised if she was still getting over the shock of how much control he had over his movement and speech by the age of two. With his abilities came a wisdom that was unnaturally beyond his years. She knew he had been marked, and that could have been part of the reason that he was so advanced for his age. This also made her a little afraid, because though prophecy stated that he would influence a great number of events, and that he would do great things, it didn't say what type of great things he would do.