Damian opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling of his room—or, to be more precise, the paper that was stuck to it, as he always did every morning.
On the paper, although you couldn't see it unless you concentrated since the ceiling was quite high up, was drawn a pentagram. It might not look like much, but this was one of fifteen of a containment artifact for spirits.
What exactly were they containing? Even though nobody in the mansion said it, Damian knew it was meant to contain him.
Why? That was something he may never know. As far as he knew, he was no spirit. But since his mother died five years ago, this had become the norm.
Hearing a light knock, Damian got up from his large bed and walked to the door. He opened it, and there stood a man dressed in a butler outfit. He was bald and had a grey mustache. Behind him were two maids.
This was Jack, housemaster for the Greythorne mansion.
"Good morning, young master Damian," Jack greeted with a smile.
"Once again, Jack, what is so good about the mornings?" Damian rubbed his eyes.
"I'm sure you'll find something good about this one soon, it's simply a matter of believing, young master," Jack replied.
"Sure." Damian walked away from the door, allowing the maids to enter.
One went into a part of the room that housed the bath to prepare it for Damian while the other set about making his bed.
"I believe you're excited for today, aren't you, young master?" Jack asked.
Damian sat at the windowsill, looking out at the wide expanse that was the Greythorne compound. Soldiers patrolled the cobblestone path, and servants tended to the flora.
In the middle of the compound, was a fountain with a tall statue of a man with long hair in full armor. This man was none other than the mortal god, Luther Greythorne.
His grandfather.
Five hundred years ago, this man had defied the natural order and reached a level of power that forced the realm to declare him a god, giving him access to the heavenly plane.
In all of history, he has been the only one to achieve this feat.
How did someone five hundred years ago have a son alive today? Well, since he was a mortal from the beginning, the mortal realm didn't reject him despite his ascension, so he frequently made trips back here.
It is said that he had saved a woman one day and fell in love with her. She became pregnant with the child of the mortal god despite the other gods' disapproval of their relationship.
Some say the gods struck her down on the day she had her child, and others say the power contained in the child was beyond what a mortal body could bear, so she died at childbirth. Either way, Darius Greythorne was born.
He held power beyond anything the mortal realm had seen since the days of Luther.
Darius' power was classified as pseudo-divine!
It was only a matter of time until he was known as the unrivaled champion, undefeated in battle.
At least until the incident of Premrose, where his mother had died. No one knew what happened that day, even Damian, but the entire town was wiped off the map, and the strongest man in the world was defeated.
Even though this event struck fear into the hearts of all that existed, Darius was still the most respected man in the world, with different kingdoms still trying to win his favor. However, he remained loyal to the kingdom of Elyandra, and with his power, they prospered.
The day Darius got married, the world stood at a standstill, waiting for his heir to be born. Kingdoms waited, ready to risk anything to gain the favor of the child they believed would be another powerhouse.
To keep it short, Damian Greythorne was a household name. When he was younger, the mansion used to be filled with nobles trying to meet him, and he received so many gifts that even at birth, his own personal wealth almost rivaled his father's.
But it all changed five years ago, as his father shut down the mansion, keeping it—and him—away from the outside world after the incident. A lot of questions were raised by both him and the public, but who could question the champion?
Damian sighed.
"Young master?" Jack's voice showed concern.
"I can hear you, Jack," Damian replied.
"You didn't respond to my question, young master," Jack pointed out.
"If I was excited? I am glad I get to leave the mansion, at least."
Damian had gained admission into the royal school of combat, the most prestigious establishment in the entire kingdom and the hardest to get into.
Anyone who made it into the school was more than likely to become a royal knight in the future; a position believed to be the best one could get in Elyandra. The benefits that came with it were enough to turn a peasant into a noble and a noble into one of higher status!
Every year, the school took in five students who didn't need to take part in their admission exams. These students were called the Exceptionals.
As expected, Damian was one of them.
Not solely because of his father's standing in the kingdom, but also because of what many believed him to be.
Damian thought it insane that they placed such expectations on a person just because of who his father was but he had come to find out that this was the politics of Elyandra in action.
"Let me know when the bath is ready. I want to take a walk," Damian said as he got up and picked up a shirt from one of the chairs in the room, putting it on.
"Very well, young master," Jack replied with a slight bow.
"Thank you." Damian opened the door.
"Oh, young master, Lord Darius asked me to tell you that he would be unable to make it to send you off himself, but he wishes you luck," Jack said.
"He has ignored me for years; I really don't care if he makes it or not." Damian closed the door behind him.
.....
From the top floor window, Darius watched as Damian walked out of the building. The latter stopped and looked up to see his father before turning away and continuing his walk.
"For how long do you intend to avoid the boy?" a voice sounded from behind Darius.
He turned to see Luther leaning on the desk in the room with his arms crossed across his chest, still donning his golden armor as always.
"My lord," Darius bowed.
"Respond, Darius. I asked you a question," Luther said, ignoring his greeting.
"I'm not ignoring him, I'm simply being cautious," Darius replied.
"I'm not stupid, boy. You put up artifacts around the building and locked him in. Now that's being cautious. Avoiding a boy who lost his mother and has no idea why for years, that's avoidance."
"You are the one who said not to tell him," Darius pointed out.
"Yes, I said not to traumatize the child by telling him he is the host of the primordial demon and that he killed his mother without his consent, but I never said to avoid him," Luther sighed.
Darius kept silent, and Luther shook his head.
"I know you're afraid—"
"I know no fear," Darius quickly interrupted Luther. "I am the unrivaled champion."
"Of course you do, only fools and gods pretend otherwise," Luther said. "It's okay to fear, Darius. There are things that are beyond you even with all the power you hold. Astriel is one of them, there was nothing, and there is nothing you can do."
"And I'm supposed to be okay with that?"
"Yes," Luther replied. "Even for me, he would be a hassle. The only reason I was able to handle him easily was because he was unable to release his full power. Merging his soul with Damian's was the only way to keep it that way while still keeping the boy sane."
"But he'll break free eventually, won't he?" Darius asked.
"Not easily, but don't think about that. I'll handle it if the time ever comes," Luther shook his head. "I just don't want you ignoring the boy."
"Why haven't you appeared to him yet?" Darius queried.
"I don't know how Astriel would react to me; I would rather avoid any conflict of sorts. For now, he is dormant, and should he remain that way, I can argue to save the boy's life," Luther said.
"Argue to save his life?" Darius asked, confused.
"More than you know occurs in the heavenly realm," Luther sighed.
"So you're here to check on Astriel?"
"I am a god; I can check on him even from the heavenly plane. I'm just here to talk to you, as I don't think I'll be able to return here anytime soon until this is sorted," Luther explained.
"Do they plan to kill him?" Darius' expression turned serious.
"Yes. They fear Astriel as he was prophesied to bring the destruction of both the mortal realm and the heavens. The other gods can't come down here to do it, so they're trying to ask me to," Luther responded.
"Will you?"
"I'm holding out as much as I can, but they could find other means," Luther walked up to Darius. "You still love the boy even though you fear him, so I ask that you protect him in places I cannot. The gods are not his only enemies."
"I made sure to keep Astriel a secret. No one else in the mortal realm should know," Darius said.
"Astriel is a god, his reappearance in the mortal realm would never go unnoticed. Launch an investigation, and you'll find what I mean," Luther replied, and Darius sunk into thought.
"All in all, just keep the boy safe," he added as he walked past Darius.
"Yes, father," Darius said, and the next thing he heard was the flapping of feathers.
*
Damian brushed his fingers across the flowers on the path as he walked, looking around and enjoying the scenery.
Suddenly, a dove flew straight at him, and he quickly dodged as it flew past. Damian looked back at it and grabbed his chest as he felt pressure on his heart.
"Young master," a voice called out.
Damian turned to see a maid, "Yes?"
"Your bath, my lord," the maid bowed slightly.
Damian nodded and walked towards the building, failing to notice that the once vibrant flowers near him had wilted.