1 I am...
DING! DONG!...DING! DONG!...DING! DONG!
The loud bell of New Belfort rang its chime. A new day, or better say shift has started. There were rather small differences between the day and night in the lives of the people living here. It was dark all the time and frequent snowstorms made the light even fainter.
Dilapidated buildings surrounded the lonely church tower. Slightly off to the hill stood a fortified manor, with thick stone and wood walls to keep the heat inside.
The Lord lived there with his family and entourage. Almost 34 people found their home in the building. 10 maids and 20 knights made the serving force of the manor, whilst the rest was comprised of the Baron, Baroness, their son and the lords' mother. The Baroness had just recently gotten pregnant, which was a cause of great joy to most of the family.
Unfortunately, the longer the pregnancy lasted, the more tension there was between the Lord and his son. Possessing cursed looking red eyes and a frail body, he had never been wholly accepted by the Lord. Even worse, he wasn't his biological son, but that was unknown to the people outside the family. The pretence of everything being as it should be was too important to the Lord.
The Lady, however, loved her adoptive son wholeheartedly. Her current pregnancy was a miracle since she had been thought to be infertile. This dynamic was, just like the one with the Lord, changing. She no longer thought of him and his sickly appearance and focused only on her upcoming newborn.
It was at this moment, that the 13-year old Jean opened his eyes to capture the bleak greyness of the world from the outside of his window.
"Young Master! It is time to wake up!"
*stompf* *clackh**stompf**clackh*
Jean could hear his one-legged maid Simone walk through the thickly carpeted corridor as she continued to yell.
"The Lord has already woken and if you don't want to eat leftovers you should hurry!"
*Bang!*
The door to his room opened with great force and Simone entered, a white bedsheet perched over her shoulder. She was a big, muscular woman with many scars across her face. Her victorian maid-like dress did not affect her fearsome appearance. She had short, fiery-red hair and golden eyes. Unlike her wor-torn looks, her speech was clear and full of authoritarian confidence that is often found in ex-military personnel. This was normal to Jean as she had been assigned as his personal maid/nanny the moment he had entered the manor as a one-year-old. Normally such nannies would become something akin to a second mother to their masters or mistresses, however, much thanks to her military background, Simone became a traditionally fatherly figure in Jean's life.
He often asked her to tell his stories of her battles against the Monsters and Outlaws, to which she often complied with great enthusiasm. As such, it never surprised anyone that their Young Master wanted to become a great Warrior. This turned into pretend-sword fights at the dinner table, much to the dismay of his mother who was painfully aware at the time that his body was too frail.
After one bout too many, Lady Jenette had given Simone instructions to curb the behaviour by practising scholarly mannerisms and games. The effect was immediate. Jean followed whatever Simone did and as soon as his head had been filled with the ideas of strategy and building he changed his tune. He wanted to learn how to read and write, how to speak and control. His 5-years-old brain turned it all into games.
"Young Master! Are you spacing out again?! I have already told you to wake up."
Jean shook his body as his glazed eyes regained their sharpness. He started his journey out of the piles of blankets that laid atop him and soon turned his head towards the closet on his right.
"Now that's more like it. Come here, I'll help you with the rest."
In silence, with slow footsteps, Jean made his way towards Simone who quickly helped him get dressed in a simple, yet rather thick white woollen robe. After that, he put on his black-furred boots and followed Simone out to the dining room.
A few months ago, this scene would've been disturbing. Nobody had ever seen the Young Master not have a tug of war in terms of getting out of bed. During this waking game, he would often shout and loudly exclaim his dissatisfaction. It was one of the few things he didn't follow Simone in.
Unfortunately, thanks to the growing isolation from the Lord and the most recent reprimand that had resulted in a ban to ever do anything beyond eating and sleeping Jean had been losing his will.
Today was the 2-week mark since the beginning of the ban. His father had implemented it because he had accidentally spilt his teaf onto his mother. Teaf, which was similar to Old age tea, was scalding hot and had given his mother a few light burns.
His father thought he was trying to kill his competition. A cruel and baseless thought. Regardless, he had to suffer since the Lord's word was law.
Making his way through the hallways that were draped with heavy furs Jean finally arrived at the rather spacious dining hall. It was empty, save for a lonely pšlate full of mild porridge and a few loaves of bread.
Not changing his expression, Jean sat down and ate.
...
"...and that is why you must never, ever touch the lightning caps. Death haunts it and burned bodies are all it leaves. Sheeesh... Young Master?"
"Well, why? Why does it burn, is it not just light? Doesn't uncle Lukas have a similar mutation?"
"Young Master, I told you not to talk about him. He is but a scavenger and you are the next in line for succession. You shouldn't concern yourself with him."
"But didn't you say that a good lord knows his subjects? How is it any different?"
"A lord observes, it is the commoners that mingle with each other."
"That is not an answer."
"Brat! I'm your teacher, personally appointed by the Lord himself. Who are you to question me?!?"
"You are just an impostor! My teacher is Simone!"
"Zeke!"
The door to the study opened. A man with a hulking frame, like that of a bear, wearing heavy furs entered the room.
"My Lord!"
The slightly fat teacher quickly exclaimed before performing a deep bow. Jean just looked at the floor angrily.
"What is this?"
The words were cold like ice.
The teacher made a gulping noise before bowing even deeper.
"I told you to educate him. How is he like this? I told you to use everything, but it seems you are lacking quite a lot of determination. I shall now demonstrate."
The Lord made a beckoning motion to another man behind him who quickly passed him a club.
"Come here boy."
"no"
"Boy. Do you wish to see what's under the ice forever? Get over here!"
Slightly shaking, Jean made his way to his father. A beating of immense proportions took place that day in the study. Afterwards, he was forced to continue his "lesson" through pain and tears.
...
And so passed another day.
With each week, his treatment got worse. More and more cruel methods were being used. When his mother was 4 months away from birth, Simone was sent away. When the 3 months were left, his lessons stopped altogether and he could eat only in his room. The 2 month mark signalled the end of having meals be prepared for him.
The last month he was bearly scraping by as even at midnight the kitchens were locked. His excursion to satiate his hunger had been noticed.
His diet now consisted of scavenged refreshment cookies and melted snow.
Finally, when the manor clock ticked the 8 o'clock chime, a change happened.
