The Bastard Son

I wasn't someone who was proud of my situation, nor did I take any pride in the noble blood that ran through my veins. My father was the one person I respected but I never understood why he allowed my birth to occur and even more so why he decided to take me in. I didn't know my mother, and my father refused to talk about her, whether it was too painful of a memory or a youthful regret he just wanted to forget. All he would tell me about her is that she was kind and caring, nothing more. I respected his wishes on the matter and as I grew older I stopped prying into it. I of course wanted to know about my mother, I wanted to have memories of her but I couldn't remember anything.

Walking down the main hallway I stopped in front of the large painting hosting the ducal family. My father, his wife and two children. I was on relatively good terms with my half siblings, my brother and sister, both were younger than me and I made sure to care for them and do my part as an older brother. My father's wife, Marissa, was something of a different case. She absolutely despised me and I didn't blame her, I must of reminded her every time she saw me of the woman her husband spent a night with. I did my best to avoid her and when I couldn't I tried my utmost to be respectful to her. She was difficult to please, everything I did was wrong or I was reminded of my status as a bastard. As much as I was pain in her ass, she was the pain in mine.

I continued this daily routine of mine and wound up in the servants quarters as usual, I might as well put myself to use this early in the morning, less of a chance of having to interact with Marissa. As a bastard I held no chance of inheriting my father's estate over my siblings, and even if I did have a chance I didn't want this life. I wanted to see the world and I wanted to experience it in earnest. Having to be stuck down as a noble, especially a duke, would shackle me to this land. These thoughts were often on my mind, however I didn't have time to be thinking upon these matters any further as I had to start work. I was always working, I felt I had to even though my father insisted I could take it easier, however I knew once I reached adulthood I would end up leaving the manor. I wasn't being kicked out nor required to leave but I wanted my own way of life. A sharply dressed man opened the door to my left and gazed toward me, "Ah, mister Leon, good morning. Here for your routine I presume?" the man said.

"Ah good morning Clive! You know me too well, I presume you've gotten my work ready for me?" I replied.

Clive nodded his head in response, and I carried on. Clive was the head servant of the ducal family, even though I was the bastard son of the Duke, he treated me the same as he would the others. I highly respected him. I entered the makeshift office I requested from my father, the first thing on my agenda was paperwork. I started helping my father's book keepers with their work two years ago after I turned 15. Managing a duchy was one that required heavy paperwork and the more accustomed to this I became the more likely I would better handle my own personal finances. I won't bore you with the details but I spent the next 6 hours inking and sorting through the work.

Standing to stretch I let out a sigh, this was the worst of it all out of the way. Throughout the 6 hours Clive kindly brought me a meal. I looked at the barely touched food and let out another long sigh. I should probably start taking better care of myself as a grumble emitted from my abdomen. Walking to the kitchen I grabbed a fruit left on the counter, the manor's kitchen staff were so kind I thought with a smirk. Leaving the kitchen satisfied I headed to the training grounds. Around the age of 10 my father started to teach me sword fighting, and I felt I was doing pretty well. I probably would never stand toe to toe with one of the royal palace guard, but I felt confident in my ability to hold my own against anyone else. I surpassed my instructor two months ago and was now monotonously swinging to perfect my form.

I grabbed a rag off the training dummy I had been near and wiped the sweat off my forehand, I ran my hand back along the top of my head pushing my light brown hair back in place. I was utterly exhausted and certainly didn't feel like attending the magic instruction tutoring. Magic was somewhat uncommon in this world, however my father's bloodline has produced many fine mages through history and I inherited it, much to Marissa's disappointment. Essentially magic was something that throughout history has been intensively studied, and it turns out to be more so a mutation in the genes of a common human. However the elven race which lived in the central part of the isles were all capable of using magic, the leading theory is that hundreds of years ago humans and elves used to interbreed and thus came about the use of human magic. Magic was taxing on users of it, you could even die by producing too much mana in your blood. It was found that humans born with the ability to use magic have a mana producing organ. This organ produced mana which then entered the blood stream, too much mana would kill you over time, like a cancer.

Those who could use mana lived longer lives, were generally healthier than those without mana. In terms of what I could cast, I wasn't too learned in the field of magic, however I had an affinity for all types, which may sound rare but it wasn't. I could use all types of magic but I could never master a single one. I didn't mind that, although I would come to later recognize that the theories on mana and magic manipulation were ever changing. The two fields of magic I was especially great in was light and earth magic. Light magic had little to no combat use, but was great for a certain array of other things, light magic was used for healing and purging undead creatures. Earth magic was an all-rounder type. Great for combat or everyday life, I could defend myself or others with great earthen walls, hurl stone bullets or make earthen works such as shelter or furniture.

I decided to retire for the night and returned to my room, I had much to do tomorrow as I needed to prepare for my departure in two months. I would soon turn 18 and would be an official adult. It was time for me to make my own path and experience the world for how it was. Unfortunately I would later come to find that the world was wicked and turmoil only awaited me. Either the world was always like this or my destiny was one that caused this.