"A lot of tales have mundane beginnings, and the tale of Victor Agosto rhymes in the same manner: for he spent the first year of his tumultuous life in an isolated estate in the Umbrian countryside, growing up alongside his mother (Alice Beneveta) and the sight of his disabled father (Matteo Agosto) – complex characters in the journey of our hero we shall explore, though their attendant, Emilia Rutter, is a notable influence upon Victor's early life." – Didiet Erasmus, Searching for The Lost Times of Victor Agosto, Volume 1.
Since Victor's birth, a year passed by. While the outside world transformed and mutated with the passing of the seasons, these changes were only seen through the windows of Victor's cottage, where his early life took place.
Soon growing bored of his lack of freedom, the infant desperately searched for ways to pass the time. In the few hours he spent awake, Victor focused on learning the basics of the local language – observing his mother's pronunciation and trying to deduce the meaning of different words from contextual clues.
At first, Alice was worried about her infant. He was too calm, too collected; too little hungry, too much bored. On top of that, the boy had not spoken a single word yet…
Until one day, as she held him within her embrace, she heard a sound.
"Bilk…"
"Whaaaat? You want to play?" Alice chuckled at her baby's usual 'incomprehensible' blabber.
"No…"
'This is too hard, goddamn it!' Victor was leaps and bounds ahead of a usual toddler. Yet he could not surpass his natural limits no matter how hard he tried to imitate complex sounds.
"No? What do you want, Victor?" Alice glanced, observing the infant's furrowing brows. Comical, this child.
"Bilk…Malk…Milk…Mom, milk."
His mother's eyes widened, scaring the little infant. Her hands holding him shook tremendously, displaying her excitement, "Matteo! Our boy has spoken his first word! He's hungry!"
No response came over, downplaying her excitement level. Nonetheless, this was a cause of celebration for the household, who feasted that night.
'They feasted, I got my usual serving of milk,' Victor's adult palate was slowly losing interest in breastmilk, but his mother insisted on not feeding him any solid food – but disgusting mush.
"Winter's approaching, Emilia."
Emilia had grown since she became an attendant of the household, and so did her intimacy with the chief of the house. Serving Alice and herself tea, she sat down on the opposite side of the long table. "Yes, my lady. I've prepared supplies for this winter: they say it will be harsher than last year…"
Alice bit her lower lip, "Harsher winters call for more precaution. We'll be closing off the estate entirely for Victor's safety."
Emilia nodded reluctantly, "Can I st-
"I apologize, Emilia, but you should visit your family beforehand. If the snow reaches higher than last year, we'll have no choice but to halt all movement."
"I understand, my lady."
…
Coming back into the house, Emilia came in with full hands. Specifically, she held a white envelope in her hands, stamped with a gold wax seal that displayed two lions bowing before the sun.
"My lady, I believe you've received a letter."
Within Matteo's former study, Alice wrote down the household's finances by candlelight. Glaring eyebags surrounded her eyes, and her left hand offered support for her droopy head.
"Oh? Put it down here. I'll read it later."
Placing the envelope beside the lady, Emilia tilted halfway to leave but stopped in her tracks. Glancing over at the pile of documents and the inkstained feather she said, "My lady, Sir Victor has displayed an astounding level of intelligence, learning the basics of language already. While I have heard noble children start at three, I'd propose teaching the young Sir to read and write earlier."
"Quite the young genius, isn't he? Maybe he even has a talent for magic."
"That would be expected, as his late father, Sir Matteo, also does."
Alice slanted her eyes, "Please don't call him 'late father'. Matteo is still here with us."
Chasing the attendant out of her study, Alice shrugged the financial report away and took a look at the envelope. Before opening it, she scrutinized the seal coating the outside. A familiar symbol, the mother recollected her thoughts trying to recall it.
"Agosto Family!" She exclaimed. Her hands jolted towards the envelope, and she opened it grabbing the letter to her face to read.
In beautiful calligraphic font, the letter said the following, "I wish the dowager lady of the Argenta branch of the Agosto family a pleasant transition to the White Months."
Already Alice rolled her eyes. She was not a dowager, for her husband was still alive.
"If it is with jubilation that I write this letter, it is because this one had gotten to know of the birth of a male child within our proud lineage. As tradition goes and in respect to the legacy of his glorious father, we are interested in gauging the magical aptitude of said child and funding his education if herein the child displays talent at the helm of his late father. At the end of winter, on the second day of Germinal, we shall send a representative to conduct this assessment in accordance with official procedures. "
Alice exhaled a single time and put down the letter. Fervor ignited within her eyes, and all traces of fatigue dissipated into power. Two years ago, she found her husband splattered in the thick forests beside their home. Despite the firearm at his side, he showed no signs of physical injury.
However, ever since that day, he hadn't moved a single inch or spoken a single word. With the candlelight beaming on her face, she fell into contemplation. It was not money or status that she wanted. If her son followed in the footsteps of magic, he could be much more. If her son followed in the footsteps of magic, he could maybe save his father – or, at least, find someone who could.
She originally wanted a peaceful life for her son, one of abundance and happiness. Perhaps destiny had greater plans for the little boy. If that was the case, she wouldn't row against the waves of fate, robbing him of the destiny the gods held in store for him. Nonetheless, she would be his lighthouse, illuminating the way towards prosperity and safety.
"Emilia, I know you're still there."
She looked beyond the crevices of the wooden door. The doors creaked, and a figure came in, "My lady, I wanted to apologize for-
"Spare it. I wanted to speak to you."
"I'm all ears, my lady."
"From tomorrow onwards, introduce Victor to the basics of written language. Then, expose him to the basics of magic: He doesn't need to learn, he's not at that age yet, but explain the fundamentals to him. Can you do that?"
Emilia gulped before her freckled face lit up and she exclaimed, "Yes, my lady!"
Meanwhile, the little boy lived his current greater destiny by sleeping in a warm room…