Arminius

Without much delay the grand doors were opened and revealed an almost empty room.

Spotless walls and a good view on the garden complimented the single great ebony desk filling out half of the space.

Behind it sat a young men. Black hair and ice blue eyes that seemed to stare directly in your soul. His face was stern and sharp, but a small almost insignificant cunning smile rested on his lips. The Roman armour he wore shined in the light of the evening sun. It was not a typical armour, modified to better protect his arms and legs. A featherless helm rested on the desk next to hundreds of papers and documents.

"You too have fathers eyes, I hope we will not also inherit his grey hair." He waved at the guards, who quietly closed the door behind themselves after they left.

"The journey should not have been easy, I know our father – he would not have send you here willingly. Jet you still came."

His presence was overwhelming, as he walked around the desk, Vincent took a step back.

A black katana hung on his hip – out of place.

"They are all dead." He took out the metal medallion and gave it to the man that now stood before him. His brother was tall and lean, jet trained extremely well.

It could not be seen what emotions he felt when he regarded the crest of the house.

"So no one supported you, the decision to take that journey was yours. "His eyes shined. "What deal did you strike with old Svend to take you with him. He said nothing in his letter."

Vincent raised his shoulders and tried to look tall, jet the six year old failed miserable.

"I proposed to translate a grimuar. He noticed my mastery over magic and took me in."

Arminius hugged him, an act that seemed out of place. Vincent was completly overhelemed, he never had sibling. "As expected of my little brother."

He looked around the room searching for something. By now the presence that weighted so heavily had almost disappeared.

"What did they say about your talent?"

He pulled out a strange bronze cube buried under a stack of papers.

"They told me, I have an affinity with metal. I already learned a spell."

His eyebrows were raised slightly. "You already learned to conceal yourself, not bad. A black leather glove held the intricate machine right before Vincent. "Try it, it is an Antikythera cube. We use it to measuer talent more accuratly than those shamans and quacks."

'I thought they only had them in the academy. At least Plinus told me so. A marvellous product of engineering'

Without much hesitation he placed his palm on it. When nothing happened he figured he should send his magic power inside, it would at least not hurt.

He did not even need to close his eyes to direct a small stream of the blue energy cursing though his arm.

His mana, filled to the brim, was resting in his rune completely still. Only as he moved to draw it, did it start beating again filling the room with his small aura.

It took not a lot of magic until something happened.

The machine came to live. The gears started turning after an unknown pattern. Then they stopped, as dead as before.

Arminius raised his brows. "It seems you have two affinity's, one metal and the other looks similar to the affinities for plants, and blood."

He took out a small unremarkable blue stone.

"I take you have not done any specialised training?"

Vincent shook his head slowly, unsure if using spells counted or not. "No it does not count. Now try to raise that stone using your mana – just push it inside like you would normally use your magic."

The stone was cold and prickled strangely on his fingers when touched. Like it was electrically charged.

He tried the familiar notion again. There was no resistance at all. The mana naturally flew in, and the stone swallowed it with hunger. It glowed faintly.

With some effort he gave it the command to rise in the air slowly. It worked just as his spell. Glued to his finger it got to a height of ten centimetres, where the force necessary to bring it up higher was too much.

He was forced to stop.

The small blue ball was affixed in the air, not shivering even slightly. It looked strange, as if frozen in time.

Then after roughly ten seconds it lost all its energy and fell down on the desk. Lifeless.

A feather scratched over a white paper.

"Your magic capacity is average, not worth mentioning. You have an outstanding gift in the purety of your mana. It is stronger than most you will face."

He made a small pause, his finger tapping on the table with a distinct rhythm. Deep in thought.

"Your control however is something else. You are the first I have met, to be this terrifying. We can work with that."

Arminius put the paper to the side and pulled out another one, filled with names and numbers.

"Sadly I have much to do, so we will not be able to talk today."

He opened the door and called for someone.

Another solider. 'I have jet to see a single slave.'

"Search for a place for him to stay. I will train him tomorrow."

~

The room was plain and boring. A simple bed stood next to a wooden wardrobe. There was a desk and a stool next to it. Gentle light shone through the small window. Neither particularly cold nor warm.

"Your brother is a great man, we all respect him. Jet you shound not expect any kind of preferred treatment."

He threw a bunch of clothes on the bed and closed the door.

Vincent did not care.

He opened the wardrobe and threw everything in with quiet mechanical movements.

He slumped in the bed and pulled the blanket over him.

It was just comfortable enough that he would not sleep on the floor.

He closed his eyes and shivered.

Everything in the last years had been like a dream, so different than his live before.

Ignoring the issue was a good way of dealing with the immediate problems, but it was not a long term solution.

He killed his damn family. It was not his original, but they had still deeply cared about him. Now that he thought about it, he could have avoided it.

He could have told his family about the disasters, maybe he could have told them he had a vision. And then he could have run, so that they would not have been crushed by a meteor at least.

What had done all those years.

'Nothing'

He realized. It still felt like a dream. Or some elaborate game.

Deep down he still saw himself as his old self. Vincent. He was not going to come back. This was his world from now, and probably till death took him. Or another strange hand coming out of a rift. Rare occurrences although they did happen.

He chuckled at his own bad joke.

In the end sleep overwhelmed him.