Ch.10

Seemingly out of nowhere, rumors had spread about Erik.

He had done nothing to stand out, as no events even had time to have happened since the school year had just begun and all he'd done was study in peace.

The students, both boys, and girls would gossip and whisper about the child with dark hair. They named him a bastard and questioned how he managed to be enrolled, while Erik questioned how these rumors came about.

He could overhear a group of them converse behind a corner in the hallway while snickering to each other about the deed they had done.

"What do you think the face he had was when he saw his clothes were out the window?"

"I bet he was in tears." Another boy laughed.

Erik made his way around the corner, walking past them, facing forward with looking at the faces of the boy at the very corner of his eye.

One of the boys recognized him and stiffened up as he saw him walk past. The others turned to see him walking away. They were silent and embarrassed, fearing that he overheard them.

Erik was returning to his room just before curfew, a book in his hand he'd gotten from the library, when he was confronted by his roommate, Devone.

"Finally, there you are!" Devone said immediately as Erik walked into the room. "You need to find another room! I will no longer share with a bastard child!"

Erik stared at the boy ahead of him, looking into the eyes of Devone before sighing through his nostrils.

"A bastard child? My mother's mother, my grandmother, was Cerian. She had black hair, as is common there. I am no bastard, and for you to so boldly say that I am, well then, perhaps I should inform my family of this matter. They will surely tell your father."

The look on Devone's face revealed his hesitation.

Erik understood that children instinctually feared the scorn of a parent, and found that this was the only method he could use to tame the rowdy and spoiled children that attended this academy, at least, without the high possibility of repercussion.

"...You... You can't lie to me! Everyone knows you're a bastard!"

"It is a rumor, not a truth."

"That does not change that you need to find another room! I can not be... Uh... Uh.. Asso, uh..." Devone stammered on his words.

"Associated."

"Yeah! That!"

"Devone. Would it not be in your better interest to be friends with me?"

"Why would I want to be friends with you?"

"For the benefits, of course."

"What benefits?!"

It was past curfew by now, but Erik made his way outside of the school building. The air was chilly, and Erik was still in his uniform.

He made his way to the east side of the academy grounds, to a separate building where the student's escorts stayed.

He knocked on one door in particular, and after a few moments of rumbling coming from the inside, the door opened.

"Young lord? What are you doing out here?" Said Randal, peaking his head out.

"Randal. I want to buy your journal." The one you keep in your satchel."

Randal practically jumped in shock and embarrassment.

"Ah... Uh... Y, Young Lord, I do not think you want that..."

"I do. I will give you five silver for it."

"Young lord, I could not possibly give... That... To someone so young... I don't think you understand, y-young lord."

"I know what it is. Please. Five silver for it."

Randal had a look of hesitation on his face, as clear as the moon in the dark sky. In the end, he took the silver and handed the journal over, at which Erik returned to his room without being seen and tore out a single page. He handed it over to Devone, who upon laying his eyes on it, turned a beat-red.

"I do have more. Each one of a different woman, many are of foreign women, some not even human, each one just as vulgar as the last, with different positions."

Devone raised his eyes. He was sweating, already hormone-filled and blood rushing to the point that he could barely think straight.

In the days to follow, those provocative and smutty portraits of women in the nude spread throughout the school. They were exchanging hands between the pre-pubescent male students, who had never seen a woman in the nude, by the second, and it was Erik who was using them to grow his following rapidly.

Within a fortnight, the rumors about him ceased as the boys would no longer dare to insult him, at least, those who wanted to earn his favor wouldn't. Those who continued to speak ill of him would be overheard, and those who did overhear knew to find Erik in the library after class.

"It was William Hector, in class two. I overheard him call you a, uhm... Bastard."

It was not just that Erik bought the loyalty of the boys, but it was also the way he conducted himself. He held himself high, spoke clearly in a way unbefitting of a child, and gave off a mature impression that made many of the boys nervous to even look him in the eye.

"William Hector. Family title?" Erik responded without even looking up from the book he was reading.

"Ah, his father is an earl, I believe."

"Always the children of earls who seem to be the most arrogant. How strange. Your loyalty is noted, Jacob."

The boy was stunned to hear his own name.

"Ah... Yes, thank you. ...But... Uhm..."

It was then that Erik raised his gaze off the lines of the page. That cold, unflinching look in his eye made the boy look away, down at his own tiddling thumbs.

Erik was doing it on purpose, making the boy feel nervous in order to solidify his own position.

"Ah. Yes." Erik took out a portrait from his coat, sliding it face down on the table. "You've done well. Now leave."

The next day, a group of boys gathered together in the lavatory, with one of them pounding on the door to a stall, shouting: "Oi! Who's in there?!"

The boy inside, shocked and frightened, didn't respond until the boy outside banged a second time.

"Oi!!"

"Wh-What?! It's William! William!"

"Hector?!"

"Uh, yes...?"

"Good."

The group of boys then shared in the act of dumping a bucket filled with piss, spit, and shit over the stall door. The group fled immediately as the bucket toppled over into the stall, the sound of the boy trapped inside, screaming in terror behind them.

Already, Erik had taken control of the school. The boys' loyalty he had bought and instilled with fear of punishment, as the rumor of what'd happened to William Hector spread in rumor. The girls, however, even they were unable to be swayed by Erik, as before he knew it, he had developed a reputation among the female students for his appearance.

Even among the teachers, he had a good reputation. His grades were flawless and even basic sword training, which only the male students undertook, he excelled at.

For the following months, he would study in peace with no more arising issues, until one day, he came across a unique book, in his sweeping of the library shelves, that piqued his interest. A book with a hard, torn, black cover, with a gold sheet title: The Accursed Monsters.

It at first seemed like another book on outrageous and false tales of creatures and monsters that had anyone asked the common man, would only be given a skeptical response. However, Erik wasn't one to gloss or skip over text, deeming it nonsense. He would thoroughly read anything, believing that, no matter how insignificant it could seem, it could have a potential use.

He flipped through the thick, stained pages of the book carefully, so as to not tear them. Each page was filled with black ink text or gruesome and very depictive illustrations of all manner of creatures. All of them, ferocious monsters resembling a mix of beast and man.

This world was no stranger to magic and different races, such as: elves, orcs, dwarves, goblins, lamia. However, those such species were known as fact, hunted, feared, and even studied, while the monstrous creatures in this book, were considered myths.

Still, Erik believed that these tall tales were diluted from truth, as in so many books he'd read, they were spoken of, though with differing details.

Words seemed to repeat by the many in the paragraphs: creatures of the night, resistant to poison, heals from any wound, feed on the living, undead, unparalleled strength, never age, live for thousands of years, were brought about by curses, infect others by wound, immortal.

As he continued to read, he became more and more engrossed in the subject matter. Lycanthropes, banshees, ghouls, black witches, vampires, but the one page that held his attention the longest, was demons.

Across every page, his eyes moved steadily across the ink, but here, on the page depicting a monstrous creature, with demonic wings, large twisting horns, hooves, and legs covered in hair, his gaze came to a halt.

He began to tap on the table he was sitting at, right next to the open book he stared long and hard at.

His tapping increased, being the only sound in the otherwise silent library.

At the end of his tapping, he muttered a heavily accented word of another language, a spill of his inner thoughts.

"Dahk'ruhg'khmro."