51. The Pact of Brothers

"What the… who sent me this?" Sylvester picked up the item from the wooden case. It appeared to be a spear, a very artistically made one with gold plating at the end and on the middle of the blade of the spear.

It was narrow, with the top and the sides made of sharp steel, while its center was golden. Not only that, there appeared to be a blue ribbon attached to it.

[A/N: Look at it in this para comment.]

"C-Can I touch it?" Felix suddenly exclaimed as his face appeared to be struck by lightning, his eyes opened wide, and his breathing quickened.

"Sure."

"Ummah!" However, Felix kissed the spear instead, grossing everyone else out.

"Are you alright, Felix? Do you have a fever? Should we take you to the infirmary?" Gabriel worriedly asked him.

At that, Felix scoffed. "How could you three not recognize this thing? Look at it, the edges, the shape, the gold, the ribbon… This is the Spear of Infinity! The greatest spear ever made, once held by one of the Five Heroes of the Thousand Year War, Wizard-Knight, Baron Elyot Harmond, also known as Elyot the Swift."

Sylvester looked at the spear with interest and confusion. "It's that big of a deal? Then is this fake?"

"Who knows, but I have a feeling this is not. Sylvester, this spear is a bloody legend, and now you hold it! Do you know the story behind it? This ribbon attached belongs to the Wife of the Baron, who was also a wizard. But she was killed by an Orc Tribe. So in her honor, Baron Elyot tied a piece of her cloth to his spear before cremating her and vowed to exterminate the tribe… and when he took action, he did much more than just extermination.

"Everyone in Sandwall County knows this legend. We kids are taught this from our birth by our nannies, and we strive to be a man as great as him."

Amused, Sylvester took the spear back from Felix and felt it in his hands. He knew there were not many people who could have sent him this spear. And 'many' was too big of a word even.

"Isn't this too short for a spear?" Sylvester wondered as the spear was just a few inches taller than him.

Felix scoffed. "You naive child, it's called the Spear of Infinity for a reason. Baron Elyot was called Elyot the Swift because he could change the length of this pear as per his wishes. Nobody knows how long it can stretch, but the recorded peak length is fifty meters. I reckon it must get too heavy after that."

Sylvester's mind instantly thought about a mythical being from his past world, 'Sun Wukong?'

"How do I make it longer?" He wondered while looking at Felix, hoping the boy would know for being a fanboy.

But there was no reply from his end. "Why would I know that? It was Baron Elyot's spear. Maybe his voice commanded? Try saying something."

Sylvester nodded and stood up while lifting the spear over his head in one hand. "Keep suggesting me words, and I will repeat."

"Extend," Felix suggested.

"Extend!"

"Longer," Markus added.

"Longer!"

"Stretch." Gabriel pitched.

"Stretch!"

"Erect." Felix started again.

"Ere… nevermind." Sylvester put the spear away and sat down. "I will ask Sir Dolorem about it later. But if this thing is as great and precious as you say, then I'm afraid I'd have to keep it safe unless I am strong enough, or else someone might steal it or worse, kill me to take it."

Sylvester understood the gravity of walking around with a big label on his head, telling people he had a precious treasure on him. Some may have the guts to attack even if he is from the Church. After all, greed often blinds people's judgments.

"By the way, what happened to Bishop Norman?" Gabriel inquired.

"Burned to crisp," Sylvester replied. But he noticed no pity or negative emotions from the boys.

"May his soul have some mercy." Gabriel prayed. "I've seen too many people like him when I was a slave. They are short-sighted and greedy. It seems his sins had far outweighed his good deeds."

"You never tell us about your past. How was it like being a slave?" Felix suddenly asked, being insensitive as he was, but it was understandable that he'd be interested, as he was surrounded by slaves all his life.

Gabriel sighed and gave a summary of his life story. "Well, I and my sister, Raven, were four when our parents died. The village chief initially cared for us, but he later started beating Raven and me for no reason. Thankfully, there was a healer lady kind enough to take Raven in.

"I searched for work but found none, so at the age of six, I sold myself to a merchant first. Then I gave all the money to the healer to keep my sister fed and protected. I then worked as a porter for a while, but being too small; the merchant sold me to some lord.

"Life was hell there. The beating was an hourly occurrence. The lord, his kids, and even other older slaves would beat me. Many clergy members saw me but never helped… until one noticed I was using light magic to walk in the dark to deliver the lord's message to the monastery.

"The rest is history. I just hope Raven stays safe and well fed. I don't care about being God's Favored. As long as I can gain strength to protect my sister, I am happy."

"That's… sad." Markus felt lucky for at least having a family, no matter how poor it was.

Felix, meanwhile, moved to Gabriel and patted his shoulder. "My brother, as soon as we're done training here, come to Sandwall with me. I will get your sister a good house. My household is not the best place in Sol to live, but she will be safe. My house puts honor above everything else."

Gabriel nodded, showing a radiant smile. "Thank you. I will remember that."

Sylvester was amazed at how this thin, red-haired, blue-eyed boy had suffered so much yet preserved his kind heart. 'We're all misfits, gathered not by choice but by chance.'

"What are you smirking at?" Markus noticed a smile on Sylvester's face.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about how we all have a tragic story. You were poor, Gabriel was a slave, and I was a month-old baby about to be tossed into the fire. Solis really brought us together, it seems."

"Hey, why was I left out?' Felix objected.

Sylvester scoffed. "You're a spoiled noble brat. You don't count."

"How dare you? I was forced to train from the day I started to walk, thrown into the desert to survive alone, and left in a jungle to spend the night. I was made to fight adult trainees at the age of six. My father ensured every part of my body was made to wield the sword.

"I'm not the second son of Count Sandwall. I was never treated like one. I'm his fun little project… and the truth is… I have no interest in fighting."

That raised the other three's brows. "What do you mean?" Sylvester exclaimed.

Felix looked at his friends and wondered if they would judge him or laugh. He nervously brushed his black hair with his hand and looked down. "I just… I wanted to read books, write plays, and stories, paint, and become an artist. I wanted to do something creative, with colors… not blood. I know, it's a pansy dream to have, but it was all I had… all that my mother taught me before she… she left the world."

Sylvester shook his head quickly. "That's not a pansy dream, Felix. It's an honorable dream, especially in times when a man only thinks about either sin or prayer. We do need a third hobby to keep ourselves sane.

"But we must accept our reality and prepare for the worst, even if it means learning to paint with blood."

Gabriel agreed. "True, I heard from a few clergymen yesterday that darkness is coming. I don't know if that means something dark or war or if they were just talking about sunset. But there's a chance we will probably be fighting for something in the near future… if that happens… can we make a pact?"

"What pact?" asked Markus.

Gabriel nervously moved in his seat and asked. "I-If I… I am not as strong as Sylvester and Felix, nor talented in moving as Markus. So if something happens to me in the future… will you give my life savings to my sister and… ensure she marries a good guy?"

"Yeah, me too…" Markus chimed in. "If the war begins, I'll be dead in months. So give my family all my money, will you."

"Well, if I died, I'd just be shamed by my father, and my ashes would be tossed in gutters, but I promise you two." Felix raised his hand to clasp.

Sylvester, however, didn't say anything at first. 'I'm afraid my life's goal is to survive—to live! To think I will die, I can't even imagine it.'

But he could honor this little pack. "Don't worry, you two. If something happens, all of us will add money from our own pockets and ensure your sister or family can live in peace forever.'

"Do you have that kind of money?" Felix narrowed his gaze.

Smirking, Sylvester nodded. "Hah, I have my ways."

"Meow!"

"Why did you meow again?!" Markus exclaimed.

"..."

"Do you want to clasp and seal the pact or not?" Sylvester was quick to bring their focus back.

Pa!

Gabriel quickly put his palm on Sylvester's waiting fist, followed by Markus and Felix. And just for visuals, Sylvester made some light come out.

"It's done! You three have sold me your souls now." He japed. But then he added, "By the way, don't worry, Gabriel, if something happens to you, I'll marry your sister to our resident rich lord, Felix."

"Hey! I'm not up for the market… though, what does she look like?" Felix intently looked at his friend.

Gabriel's brows twitched, and he closed his eyes for a moment. "O'Lord, forgive me for I am about to sin… Fuck off, Felix!"

"Pfft…"

A little round of laughter soon ensued as the four boys pulled each other's legs.

Sylvester tried to bring some light to his dark heart, albeit sensing the future to be cloudier than ever. 'I don't know if all of us can survive till old age… but I hope we do. These boys may be a part of an evil church… but they sure are good at heart and deserve to live a happy life.'

…

That evening, Sylvester ate dinner at the dorms with his friends. But before he returned home, he went to his second home, the Inquisitor camp.

The people there respected him, loved him, and cherished every word that came out of his mouth. Some have even asked him to name their newborn child somewhere far away.

He reciprocated that respect by singing hymns from time to time, giving the Inquisition new marching songs.

But today, he had a big wooden box on his back as he found Sir Dolorem resting inside his tent, still up and writing something in his journal.

"Sir Dolorem, I have something to ask." He entered unannounced, as this was not the first time.

"Master Maximillian, you should be home after seeing all the…"

Sylvester cut him off with a chuckle. "Honestly, Sir Dolorem, nothing can be scarier than that Bloodling."

The knight chortled, "Hah, indeed. How may I be of help?"

Sylvester quickly put the wooden box on the bedding and took out the spear. "I wish to thank the Inquisitor High Lord for this magnificent gift."

"T-This is…!"

"Yes, the Spear of Infinity! Felix told me about it."

But Sir Dolorem was still in shock. "M-Master Maximillian, Lord Inquisitor may have wished to grant it to you… but he does not have the authority."

"Then who… ah!" In an instant, Sylvester realized who the true patron for this gift was.