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Fallenism

Auteur: Dracomangie
Fantastique
Actuel · 144.7K Affichage
  • 51 Shc
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Synopsis

The ignorant are lost in the world, thus they die meaningless deaths. Purpose is not found, it is given. The lord shall grant you a just purpose.

Étiquettes
7 étiquettes
Chapter 1Ch.1

It was the dead of night, and inside one of the many rooms of a large mansion estate, the painful cries of a woman giving birth echoed through the halls.

It was rowdy with maids running about while the mother sat, legs spread before a doctor.

By her side, holding on to her clutched hand, was her husband and two young children, a son and a daughter. The son looked nervous as if he were soon to pass out from nervousness.

"Madam, you must push!" The doctor urged her.

With tears running down her cheeks and using the last of her strength, she gave birth to a healthy young baby. A relieved smile came across her face.

"You did it dear, it's over now." Her husband said as he hugged and kissed her head.

"It's a boy!" The doctor told her.

The newborn baby was wrapped in a blanket and handed to the mother who held out her arms welcomingly.

The baby did not cry, which worried the mother, but before she could even say, the doctor assured her.

"How rare for a child to be born silent, however, he is in perfect health madam. It would seem he is sleeping."

Her worried expression quickly turned to a relieved one.

"I see... Thank you, doctor."

"No problem at all madam. I shall leave your family to enjoy the birth of your new son.."

The doctor and the majority of the maids quickly left the room.

"Noesse, Oliver, meet your new baby brother." The mother said tearfully, with a smile that did little to express just how happy she truly was.

"Erik." The father said as he rubbed the baby's cheek. "Erik Chamber."

Two years later, that child would be just as healthy as the day it was born, but the parents would come to speak with the same doctor who delivered him over matters of concern.

They spoke in the guest room, which was decorated with artwork of armored knights or portraits of family ancestors, while the maids served snacks and tea.

"Doctor, thank you for coming."

"It is of no issue, Sir Vindor. What seems to be the problem?"

"Yes, well... It is Erik. He is two years old now, but he... Doesn't seem to talk, or no. That's not it."

"What my husband means to say, is that Erik doesn't cry, ever. Nor does he make any sound, though I have heard him... Babble, so he is not mute."

"I see..." The doctor pondered his thoughts for a few moments. "Have you perhaps tested him for... Well... Forgive my possible rudeness, but might he be retarded?"

The mother's face lit up in fright. "What?! C-Could he?"

"Well it could be a possibility, is all I mean to say. If I could so speak to the young lad myself, I could judge for certain, but if he is as emotionally distant as you describe, then it could be that he is not in his right mind."

The doctor was brought to a room where an adorable young child was sitting with a simple children's book propped up in front of him and his attending nanny sitting next to him.

The boy had dark black hair unlike his family, who all had light blonde hair, and though his eyes were blue like theirs, his were awfully deep in color.

At the door, the doctor spoke quietly with the two parents.

"If I could please be alone with him. The fewer there are to distract him, the better. Though you can listen at the door as you wish."

The parents did as requested and had the room cleared, all except Erik and the doctor.

After around ten minutes, the doctor exited the room.

"Doctor, how is he?"

"Hmm... Well, madam. I believe he is perfectly fine. I did a number of simple tests and he was able to understand them perfectly fine. I believe he is just a quiet child, in fact, I would say he is smarter than most and is very attentive. You should have no worries madam, he is healthy and sane of mind. I promise you this."

A look of relief came across both the mother's and father's faces.

Inside, Erik would turn to the simple children's book laid about before him. He would flip the pages, his eyes darting across them for less than a second before he turned the page to repeat, and repeat again.

There was something about the look in his eyes, those deep blue, like sapphire eyes, that were far from the look of an innocent young child.

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