Chương 65: 59.5 - Anger Issues (B2 Prologue) (new) (includes schedule update info)

"Tommy!" Tommy turned, eyes widening at the figure running toward him.

"Jonny?"

"Tommy!" Jonny called again, running.

"I'm here!"

"You're alive!" said Tommy, spreading his arms.

"Tommy! Help!"

"J– Jonny?" Despite the fact that Jonny was running toward him, the other boy wasn't actually getting any closer. In fact, he was getting further, as though he was running in place and Tommy was drifting away. Tommy tried to run to meet him, but his limbs moved like they were trapped in honey, every step taking multiple seconds, and not bringing him any closer. He watched as dark figures faded into existence behind Jonny, men in smoky black armor wielding swords that seemed to drink in light.

Jonny's eyes turned fearful, and he tried to run faster. Tommy pushed as hard as he could to meet him in the middle, but neither boy was able to make much progress. The dark armored figures soon surrounded Jonny, all raising their swords at once, bringing them down, and– Tommy sat up in his bed, sweating. He didn't have nightmares every night, but when he did, it was often something like that. It had been happening ever since he heard about what happened at the orphanage.

Inquisitors had come to kill Jonny, apparently, claiming him to be a demon. Baron Ellis—Tommy's new father—said that they were lying, but Tommy already knew that. Both Jonny and Igrette had tried to escape, but in the end, they had gone missing somewhere in one of the most dangerous regions in the country, the Sarkan Mountains. Tommy's father said that they were still missing, but Clarissa said he was just protecting Tommy from the truth.

"They're dead," she had said.

"I heard it at school. The inquisitor came back with the grumpy old nun's arm and said they got eaten by a snake. He got a special medal for it." Tommy was in denial at first, but it had been four years now, and no one had heard a word. The inquisitor who did the dead was on the fast track to High Inquisitor status, and the story of his deeds had become known fact. Even his father couldn't keep that much from him, though he still tried his best to claim there was a chance.

"They never found any bodies," he would always say.

"They could still be alive." Tommy knew better. He had learned in his biology class that more powerful magical beasts could dissolve bone with their stomach acid. Of course they wouldn't have found any bodies. That didn't mean anything at all. He took a deep breath, then rolled out of bed, walking over past the rug until he reached the cool hardwood floor. He lay down, staring up at the dark ceiling, letting his body calm down and dry off so he could get back to sleep. It had been years since the incident.

He was mostly over it by now. He missed Jonny, but at this point, some of the memories were starting to fade. He was doing just fine on his own. It was only occasionally on nights like these that he would wake up remembering and feel awful. As he lay thinking, a noise from outside his window made him turn his head. At first, he thought he was imagining it, but the noise only grew louder and louder until it became unmistakeable. It was the sound of hooves and wooden wheels on gravel. Dad is home!

He immediately scrambled to his feet, and from the next room over, he heard the gentle creak of a door opening. He rushed to his own door, opening it just in time to startle Clarissa, who was walking right past his room. She was wearing pink pajamas with white stripes, and was hugging the stuffed bear that she had gotten for her birthday three years before. It had seen better days, but it was still mostly in good condition, aside from the slightly singed ear from when her fire magic practice had gone wrong.

Having just turned 12, Tommy thought she was getting a little old for such things, but apparently, she couldn't sleep without it, and always liked to have it beside her at night. She let out a small peep of surprise, then glowered at him, putting her finger to her mouth.

"Shhhh!" she said.

"You were the one who–" Tommy started.

"SHH!" she said again. Tommy scowled, but did his best to close the door quietly, then followed behind Clarissa as they tiptoed down the stairs toward the front door. With every step, the stuffed bear bounced, but no matter how it moved, its glass bead eyes always seemed to be looking at Tommy. Tommy stuck his tongue out at it. Soon, they arrived near the entryway, and slowed down as they could hear voices echoing from below.

"... can't believe they keep making you do this!" exclaimed their mother.

"You're not an inquisitor! They can't order you around like this!"

"It's alright," said Baron Ellis soothingly.

"It's not their fault."

"Like hell it's not!"

"Demon activity has been on an upswing recently."

"And whose fault is that?"

"It's–""If that senile old bag just did his job–""Mary," said the baron sternly.

"Even if the pope was in his best condition, the inquisitors wouldn't be able to keep up with this. They need all the help they can get right now." A moment of silence followed.

"Is it really that bad?" asked Mary, so softly that Tommy almost couldn't hear. He and Clarissa crept closer as their parents finished their conversation.

"It's not a crisis yet," said Harrison.

"But it's not good. Fortunately, it's been almost all minor demons, but there hasn't been this much demon activity in more than sixty years."

"Do you think–?"

"Impossible," he said, cutting her off.

"The Hero still lives. The Demon King is dead. The experts are saying it's likely a slippery Greater Demon stirring up trouble. Once it's found, things will settle down."

"…I hope so."

"I know so. Now, I'd say that's enough serious talk for the night. I feel filthy. How about a bath and a glass of wine?"

"Well, I don't know…" said Mary, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"I just took a bath earlier. Doing it again? There might need to be some other kind of incentive…"

"That can be arranged." The two giggled like children, and started saying a few other things that Tommy didn't fully understand as they walked away, their voices fading. When they were gone, Tommy looked up at Clarissa, concern on his face.

"Dad was out fighting demons?" whispered Jonny.

"Do you think he killed any?"

"Of course," said Clarissa, as if it was a given.

"Why else would they send him out so much?" Tommy frowned, thinking of Jonny.

"What if… what if they weren't demons?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What if the church was lying again?"

"Again? Oh, you mean like you think happened with your friend?"

"I don't think they did. I know they did."

"They didn't," said Clarissa.

"The church wouldn't do that. Haven't you learned anything in theology?"

"But Jonny wasn't a demon!"

"If he wasn't a demon then why did they send a High Inquisitor after him?"

"I don't know!"

"Here, I'll give you a hint." She leaned down and spoke in his ear.

"It's because he was a demon." You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"He wasn't!"

"Was."

"Was not!"

"I get it," she said, raising her chin haughtily.

"You're just in denial because you don't want to admit your best friend was a demon. I mean, I bet that has to be rough to go through. But, I mean, it was kind of obvious, wasn't it?"

"Shut up!"

"Remember when we came to adopt you, and we were playing outside? He didn't want to play with us, and instead he dragged you out into the snow and attacked you."

"That's not what happened!"

"Really, I get it. But if you keep clinging to this, people are gonna think you're crazy. You just have to accept that– Ack!" Clarissa reeled back, clutching her bear in one arm and her nose in the other. Tommy's fist stung from where he had hit her. He didn't even remember winding up for the punch. He had just done it, and now that he had, he regretted it.

"You hit me!" Clarissa said, shocked.

"You hit me!" Her face contorted in rage as blood dripped down between her fingers. Tommy took a nervous step back, raising his fists defensively. It didn't help. A moment later, they were locked in a brawl where both completely forgot the basics of combat that had been drilled into them. Neither of them used their mana—which was fortunate, as it would have destroyed the hall—but other than that, they pulled no punches. Tommy pulled Clarissa's hair, and Clarissa grabbed his joints and tried to twist.

Tommy was the better fighter, at least in class, but Clarissa had almost two years on him, and was halfway through puberty. She was a foot taller and had longer reach and a stronger body. She would have defeated him handily if not for her insistence on clutching onto her bear.

"What do you two think you're doing?!" came a voice from the stairs. Both Tommy and Clarissa froze and immediately separated, just in time for their father to come storming up the stairs, his shirt gone and hair disheveled. Their mother was a few steps behind, her nightgown disheveled as she held the front together with one hand.

"Tommy hit me!" Clarissa wailed, rushing toward him. Tommy fumed as she clutched onto him, crying as blood ran down her face. He didn't say anything though. She wasn't wrong. He had hit her. The baron bent down, studying her face with a grim expression. Clarissa shot Tommy a glare that made his anger flare again, but he didn't make a move. He knew he had screwed up, and didn't want to make it worse. The baron looked up at Tommy, looking at his own injuries.

There were scratches on his arms and face from Clarissa's nails, and there was blood dripping from his own nose into his mouth.

"It looks like you hit him back as well," he said. His voice was calm, but it was clear he was unhappy.

"He hit me first!"

"Tommy is this true?"

"…Yeah," he said, not taking his eyes off his adoptive sister.

"Why did you hit her?"

"She said Jonny was a demon!"

"She did?"

"And that I was just in denial and that everyone would think I'm crazy and that Jonny tried to kill me!" Tommy was crying too now, but his tears were of anger. He rubbed his eyes and continued glaring at Clarissa, who clung tighter to her father.

"Clarissa, did you say those things to Tommy?"

"It's true!" she exclaimed.

"Clarissa–""That boy was a demon! They sent a High Inquisitor after him! Marcella's brother is an inquisitor, and she says that he says that they never get sent out for anything that's not a demon, so why else would they have sent a High Inquisitor!" The baron gave her a long look, then sighed.

"Were you actually trying to help?"

"Yes!" Clarissa insisted.

"Did you say those things in a way that you knew would make Tommy angry?"

"No!"

"Clarissa…"

"…He needed to hear it!"

"That doesn't mean you can be crude about it," he said sternly.

"If you're trying to help someone, talking down to them will only make them angry and not like you. You need to work on your tone."

"But Daddy–!"

"Clarissa," snapped their mother. Clarissa wilted under her mother's gaze, pulling closer to the baron.

"We've talked about this before," continued the baroness.

"You can't talk like that to other people. But Tommy." Tommy flinched as she turned her eyes to him.

"You should never hit people. Especially not your sister. It doesn't matter what they say, violence is never an acceptable reaction."

"I'm sorry," he said in a small voice.

"Tommy, you're grounded for a week," said the baron. Clarissa shot him a smug look that immediately vanished at the baron's next words.

"Clarissa, you're grounded for three."

"But I have Samantha's tea party on Tuesday!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"That's too bad." Clarissa wailed something unintelligible while the baron stood like a statue, ignoring her.

"Harry," said his wife softly. They looked at each other for a few seconds, having some kind of wordless conversation, and the baron's gaze softened.

"Perhaps an exception could be made," he said.

"But you'll need to be on your best behavior, and you'll be sitting down with your mother for a lesson how to properly comport yourself."

"Okay! I will. I'll behave!"

"Good. And Tommy… We'll talk later. For now, let's get to the healer. We don't want to leave any scars." Tommy and Clarissa both avoided each other's gaze on their way to the healer's. Their resident healer, and old woman who was almost the exact opposite of Helen, was grumpy at having been woken up, and insulted everyone as she patched up the two kids before practically tossing them out.

From there, Clarissa went back upstairs to go back to bed, but when Tommy made to do the same, the baron put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to the office instead. Tommy took a seat in the chair across from his father's desk, gaze aimed at the floor. Being called to the office was never a good sign. That only ever happened when they got in serious trouble. Clarissa had been in here just a few months ago, and when she emerged, she was in tears, and not allowed to play with her friends for two weeks.

Tommy still wasn't sure what she had done for her doting father to punish her like that, but it must have been extreme.

"Tommy, look at me," said his father. Tommy nervously raised his head.

"You know what you did wrong, right?" Tommy nodded.

"Good. I won't spend any more time on it, then. And don't worry. You're not in any more trouble. I brought you here to talk to you about something else. About your friend, Jonny."

"Wh– what about him?"

"Your friend was a demon."

"No he wasn't!"

"Prove it, then."

"What?"

"Prove beyond a doubt that he wasn't a demon." Tommy clenched his fist in frustration.

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Exactly. How are you supposed to do that?" Tommy's anger subsided, giving way to confusion.

"According to the church itself, your friend was a demon," continued his father.

"A demon who is now dead. And yet you insist that he was not a demon, and is not dead. You are challenging the entire church. So how do you plan to prove that you are right, and that the church is not?" Tommy frowned.

"I… I don't know."

"And if you continue to claim that your version is the truth anyway, and the church decides to come after, you, labeling you a heretic, or a demon worshiper, how do you plan to stop them?"

"I don't know!"

"Then you can't make that claim."

"But–"" Unless," his father continued, raising a finger.

"You either find a way to prove your claim, or you become someone that even the church can't touch." Tommy frowned.

"Until then, it doesn't matter what is actually true. If you stand against the church, people will call you crazy. You'll be inviting all sorts of trouble. If you truly want to acquit your friend, getting angry and hitting people whenever he gets brought up won't help you. Do you understand?" Tommy nodded slowly.

"You'll be starting at the Academy soon. Whatever your sister said tonight, you'll likely hear worse there. And if you behave like you did tonight, you'll not only get in trouble, but you'll damage your future. You'll build a bad reputation, and it's hard to come back from a bad reputation.

"What happened with Jonny is far, far bigger than you can handle. You need to not let it affect you. You don't need to move on and forget, but you need to mature. And then maybe in the future, when you have more power and influence, you might be able to do something. To clear his name. But until then, just worry about smaller things. School. Friends. Don't let that affect you. Okay?"

"Okay," Tommy said with a nod. His father smiled and stood up, walking around the desk to ruffle Tommy's hair.

"I'll tell you what, how about tomorrow, we go do some more illusion magic practice."

"At the park?" Tommy asked, perking up.

"Of course! Where else would we do it?"

"Really!"

"Would I lie about–" He stopped and they both whipped their heads to the side as they heard a tap on the window. Tommy felt rising panic for only a split second before he saw it was just a messenger raven. His father walked to the door and let it in, unrolling the scroll from its ankle and setting the bird on the roost by the window. His expression turned grim as he read it, and Tommy immediately knew the reasons.

"Demons again?"

"Apparently," his father said with a sigh.

"Does that mean no illusion practice?"

"No, we still have time for that!" his father said with a slightly strained smile.

"I don't have to leave until Saturday. We have plenty of time for illusions."

"Do you have to go?"

"I'm afraid so. That's the price we have to pay to live in a place like this. I get a castle, they get an errand boy. But it's alright. It's just a routine patrol. It won't be dangerous, and it will make everyone feel safer. But these kinds of things are exactly why you need to be able to control your anger. These are tense times. Everyone is on edge, and everyone is worried about demons. Defending someone the church says is a demon is a big no-no."

"I understand."

"I bet you do. Now, head on back to bed. It's already too late for you to be up. You need sleep at your age if you want to grow up big and strong. We'll go to the park after breakfast tomorrow."

"Okay!" said Tommy, hopping down from the chair.

"Good night, Tommy."

"Good night, Dad."