Theodore

"Oh! How can anything be so cute!"

"Marie please," Benedict sighed, "I fear the child will be unable to stand when the time comes because you will have inflated his head with a terrible ego!"

"Master please," Marie laughed innocently, "He is only an infant."

Benedict sighed again. The servants in his house took a liking to Theodore straight away. They even adopted the nickname Theo for him after the church officially recognized him as Benedict's adopted son and christened him the name Theodore.

That night when he arrived with the child, everyone had been in hysterics because of their missing master. But the sound of a child crying quickly brought them to their senses. They brought the boy inside and had a physician examine him. To their relief, he showed no signs of outward or inward injury. But the manor was still in anxiety about what was to be done with the boy.

None of them expected, even with their master's kind heart, that he would announce the next morning his intentions to adopt the young orphan. That would mean making him heir to the House of Gonidium. Benedict had made it clear he would never produce an heir. Everyone thought the line would end with him.

But the servants were not unhappy with his decision, if not a little surprised, in fact, they were ecstatic. It meant they would continue to have a master to serve, and the House they loved so much would live on. Their loyalty was their life to every member of the House of Gonidium, and the arrival of the little boy did nothing to sway them. They immediately swore fealty to the young master, and he became their most precious duty.

So, day in and day out, the maids kept watch over young Theodore. And Benedict, in his every spare moment sought out the boy to cuddle. As seasons passed and the child began to grow, Benedict noticed something strange about his adopted son.

About two years after the carriage accident, Benedict discovered Theodore's magic abilities. Normally, this would make a parent jump for joy, as a child awakening at the age of two was very rare, but for Benedict, it held a different meaning. He himself had awoken at a similar age, and it did not bring him fortune as many people believed.

Benedict watched the lad closely for the next few weeks, and unfortunately his suspicions were confirmed. He decided he would begin teaching the boy about magic as soon as he gained the ability to read.

While originally, it had been Benedict's hope to raise the child in a happy environment, where he could play to his heart's content, he now felt the need to give the boy rigorous lessons and training. But in the end, Benedict's anxiety was unnecessary. Whether the boy was reading books or playing in the gardens, he was just happy to be Benedict's son. Perhaps, even as an infant, he had learned the unbearable burden of grief, and Benedict soothed that sadness.

So, Theodore grew, and he learned, as any young child does. By the time he was four, he could read the most difficult trilogy in the manor's library, and magic had become a sixth sense for him. Benedict was amazed at his incredibly fast growth, and a little concerned. But Theodore was happy, and so was Benedict. Life for the two continued this way for the next three years.