Alfonsi: Chronicle of the Seven Realms

Scott rubbed at his tired eyes, he really didn't want to pass any mirrors today. His reflection might give him a scare.

He looked down at the child that had drained him of all energy.

Pink hair was swiveling around the palace like a spinning top as the two walked the halls.

Scott's son, Callum born not long before the Prince was excited. He had always wanted to see the palace his dad disappeared to every day.

"Cal, please just don't say any words your dear old dad wouldn't use alright?"

Big gray eyes the exact copy of his own looked up at him as his child grinned impishly at the pleading tone his father was using.

"Yes! Like peepee or poopoo or shi-"

"Who taught you that? Was it your older sisters?"

"No, mommy said it when she stubbed her toe on the table in the tearoom!"

"Callum! Not so loud!"

"But you're being loud too!"

"That's because I-"

"Scott..."

The two were so engrossed in their conversation they hadn't even heard the King approaching them.

Dressed in a light long sleeved dress shirt and pants he still managed to look as dashing as ever. Today was one of his rare days off and thus he was free of jewelry and hair ornaments, letting the long white tresses flow down his back

Callum blinked at the man, his only thought was that he had hair longer than both his sisters and mother.

He was never a shy child and for better or worse Callum tended to ask questions he probably didn't need the answer to; and made comments that more often than not, got him into trouble.

"My sisters told me that the older you get, the more white hair you have. Mister, you must be pretty old."

Scott choked on a sound between a laugh and groan.

Matteus blinked but smiled slightly ruefully at the statement.

"I am turning ninety-seven this year but my great-grandmother who is well past one hundred and ninety years old probably still thinks of me as a child."

Callum's mouth fell open. Ninety-seven? He didn't know much about old people but he did know everyone left eventually. Just like how his grandmother on his mother's side left to be with the All Father.

Before he could say anything else Matteus was speaking again.

"White hair does not have to mean you have aged physically. I have someone with me that can prove that."

He reached behind his back where Azra was hiding.

"This is my son Azra, I hope the two of you can get along."

Azra shyly stepped out from his hiding place and took a glance at Callum who seemed to be about to say something.

Just before the meeting he was extremely nervous, Azra had never met someone his age before. How was he supposed to treat him? What was he supposed to say?

As usually he took all of his questions to Anna who simply smiled at him.

"Just be yourself Your Highness, I'm sure that will be more than enough."

Be myself?

While Azra was battling his inward confusion Callum took a step forward.

"Hey Azra, what's your favorite color?"

"Huh? Oh... um, brown."

"What! Isn't that kinda boring?"

"No, not really. Layla's eyes are brown."

"Who's Layla?"

"My cat... Do you want to see her?"

"Yeah!"

Azra turned to his father, eyes big and asking for approval. Matteus was all too happy to nod along. After the incident with his professor Azra became more withdrawn, Matteus hoped that meeting Callum would help.

In an instant Callum was grabbing the white haired child by the hand and pulling him from the room.

"What are you waiting for, let's go!"

Azra let out a sound of confusion.

"You know where my room is?"

Matteus turned to Anna who had been trailing behind them as they walked.

"Keep an eye on them."

She bowed and disappeared after the children.

Matteus turned to look at Scott now that they were alone. His eyes widened slightly before he let out a scoff.

"Why are you crying?"

The brown haired man rubbed an unshed tear from his eyes as he looked at the hallway the children had disappeared down.

"Don't they remind you of me when I was younger?"

"Actually yes, you were quite annoying at that age."

"And you're still mean. Either way, I'm happy. Callum has been growing into magic far too quickly. The other kids his age find his eagerness intimidating."

"I hope it rubs off on Azra... just not too much."

"Yeah yeah, why did you call me here on my day off? I know it wasn't just to set up a play date."

Matteus was blunt with his next sentence.

"There is someone within the palace that has been leaking information. Azra told me his previous professor knew about what happened in the garden. That information should only be privy to four people."

"Wow!"

Callum ran towards where the cat was cleaning its paws in a fluffy bed on the floor. He reached out to pet but Layla stubbornly turned her head to the side. Seeming unperturbed Callum pulled away and turned to take in the gigantic room that was Azra's.

"Hey Azra, want to see my magic?"

Immediately intrigued he nodded, Azra had seen many of the maids and knights use magic before but he had never seen someone as young as him do it.

Callum's face contorted in concentration and he held out his finger in the air for both of them to see. Anna instinctively drew closer, ready to jump in should anything get too dangerous.

For just a moment a small flame flickered above his extended finger before fizzling out completely.

"Amazing. You must be really good at magic Callum."

"You can call me Cal."

"I can?"

"Yeah it's fine. We're best friends now anyway."

"We are?"

"Yeah, my dad says someone who you trust enough to show your magic to is either a friend or an enemy... If you don't want to be my friend then you have to be my enemy. I didn't make the rules."

"W-we are! We're best friends."

Callum looked both relieved and happy to hear the words.

"Okay!"

Azra watched owlishly as the pink ball of energy went through his books.

Who is he?

- - -

"Who the fuck are you?"

Nicolas was tired.

He had left the bar with the blue haired man who he only knew as 'the assistant' and the two of them walked into the night.

No more than half an hour after walking down the empty stone sidewalks the man stopped, forcing Nicolas to do the same. 

The houses and stalls were closed for the night. Leaving dull magic stone lamps to cast their dim light onto the empty streets

"I suppose here will do."

The assistant turned to Nicolas with a gentle smile on his face.

"I'm going to need to block both your hearing and your sight for the remainder of this trip. If you refuse I cannot take you any further."

Nicolas agreed, which lead him to walking more than an hour blindfolded. At one point he was sure they went to a transportation room.

When he was finally able to see again he found himself in a dimly light room, the space was empty except for a man standing next to a lone candle burning steadily on a rickety tiny round table.

Nicolas was irritated, his feet hurt and he had no time for the mystery the setting was most likely set up to emit.

"I am Michael."

The sentence was said in a mocking lilted tone, unlike Nicolas's exasperated one.

"Yes, I put that together."

"Ah, so you want to know me, not my name. You should have specified."

There was something off about this man, under his seeming enjoyment from frustrating his guests. There was something fundamentally different in him, Nicholas' years as a professor and magical enthusiast was telling him that.

It took him a few moments to realize Michael had no mana signature. He had heard about people who go to great lengths to hide theirs this was his first time seeing it in person. It was disorienting to say the least.

"I was told you would have the means to help me."

"Help you do what?"

"I am trying to bring my wife back to life."

"Is that so."

"Yes it is so."

"..."

"Will you help me or not?"

"Tell me about your wife. Tell me how she died."

Nicolas bristled like an alley cat raising its hackles at the faintest signs of danger. Anything but that, Nicolas would rather cut off his fingers with a dull butter knife than talk about his wife's death.

"Why does that matter? All you need to know is that she's gone and I want her back."

Michael smiled and slowed down his words as if he were explaining something simple to a petulant child.

"Surely you don't expect me to just help you. You are little more than a stranger to me, therefore I will not treat you with the kindness only those close to me are privy to. We will be making a business transaction and as such you must make me want to help you."

Nicolas stood there, no matter how he mulled over the words they didn't make any less sense. If nothing else this man was logical.

"I was previously a respected professor at Yelrine, the Institute of Mana and Magics. I have information on magic that could prove useful to you. If you help me you will have all of my knowledge at your disposal."

Michael smiled softly.

"Go on."