Loretta's words faded alongside all Arlo's plans of freshening up and getting his day started. It was, he reckoned, pointless to try to enact them at the moment. No doubt Lottie would inform their parents of his awakening the instant they stepped foot into the manor. And they'd be on his doorstep before he was halfway in getting a good scrub in. Best to just wait.
The young boy fetched a white book from his bedside drawer and flung his sheets back over his legs. The book was a planner Edward had created for him that organized all his activities for the year.
Supposedly his father was the reason for its creation. In the duke's mind, presenting a growing boy with a planner was grounds for fostering self-sufficiency, responsibility, and time management. All necessary traits for a successful Aldritch scion.
Arlo would be lying if he said that it hadn't been working. Ever since he got the planner, he found himself becoming more organized, more structured. Prior to reincarnation he was the sort of fellow who did things only when he needed to do them. A procrastinator, others would identify that as, but he preferred the term 'time optimist'. It made him feel less guilty.
It didn't take him long to flip to the section of the planner that detailed his activities for the month, and he grimaced when he noticed what he'd missed the last three weeks. Two exams, more than a handful of mathematics, history, music, and swordsmanship lessons, and half a dozen social events with his cousins and other noble children from prominent families. Edward was sure to put him through the ringer once he was back on his feet.
'What a pain in the ass.'
He clicked his tongue, already dreading the amount of work Edward would force him to do. The old man was an abrasive tutor, the kind who didn't give a damn what excuse you had until your heap of work had been reduced to nothing. Arlo found it to be a bit unreasonable.
'No matter, it's all easy stuff anyways.'
Should be done within five days. That was the only positive in all this. Everything besides history and swordsmanship was knowledge he already knew, so he'd be breezing through it.
History wasn't as much of a problem as swordsmanship because he'd been avidly reading books about it since the day his midnight rendezvous with the library had started. And First Domain history was all too fascinating, so most of what he read stuck to memory.
Swordsmanship was where most of his headache came from. It was too damn hard, more so than he'd initially given it credit for. One had to learn the proper footwork, balance and timing of a multitude of sword movements, and that required a significant amount of physical and mental strength, stamina, and patience that he sorely lacked. It was all tasking stuff, and he didn't see the point of it, after all.
He'd much rather polish his gunmanship skills than brandish a pointy metal stick looking like some faux prince charming. Gunmanship, he decided, was actually practical. It was considerably easier to master and inflicted more damage than a sword.
Besides close-quarters combat, he couldn't think of a single scenario where a marksman lost a duel to a swordsman. A bullet traveled faster than any sword thrust, even if the swordsman was a seasoned Body magic practitioner.
But his displeasure was all for naught. He was stuck learning the ways of the sword until his father decided otherwise. Unfortunate, but inescapable. Arlo just hoped the duke wouldn't go as hard on him as he usually did. He might actually collapse if that happened.
Arlo was about to shut the book when he heard the sudden shuffling of footsteps on the other side of his door. He tossed the book on his bedside drawer, then eyeballed the door, steadying his racing heart. His parents were probably outside his door and they hadn't seen him awake in three weeks. How would they react? Why was he so nervous?
The door burst open without much fanfare, revealing an alert-looking beautiful woman in a navy blue tea dress and an open-eyed man donning a black tailored three-piece suit, a top hat, and a cane visibly clasped under his palm. Arlo could discern Loretta's figure hiding behind them.
"Arlo, my dear child!"
His mother was the first to break the short silence. The woman broke into a sprint and practically teleported to his bedside, throwing her hands over him and pulling him into a tight embrace. Arlo felt a sudden warmness sprouting from his chest.
Vittoria pulled back from the hug and held Arlo between her arms, touching his face, cheeks, chest, forearms all at once.
"Thank Solaris you're conscious again. Are you all right? Does it hurt anywhere? How are you feeling?"
Arlo noticed her reference to Solaris. Mother only did that when she'd been too stressed to think straight. She must've been worried to death.
"I'm alright, mother. Feel fine too. Nothing hurts. " Arlo sported a warm smile, looking his mother in the eye. Vittoria took a deep breath and pulled him into another embrace. Arlo could feel the relief hidden behind her movements.
He heard another rush of footsteps and felt two more bodies join the embrace, their tight squeezing expelling all the air inside his lungs. It seemed they really missed him. Arlo found that warm feeling near his chest again; this time it spread around his body, cleansing him of his anxiety, and reminding him of the familial love he'd come to be accustomed to since reincarnating.
Everything was fine. He was no longer alone, nor would he ever be. He had a family, a family that loved him unconditionally. How silly of him to think that they'd look at him differently. That was never going to happen.
"Son, are you sure you're all right? You really don't feel any pain?" His father loosened his grip and turned him to look him in the eye. His tone gave Arlo the impression that he was both relieved and surprised. But that couldn't be right. What was so surprising about not feeling any pain? Was he supposed to?
"Yes, I'm certain father," Arlo replied, then gave his father a curious look, "Why? Is there anything wrong with me? Am I sick?"
Adgar, for the first time in his life, found himself unable to find the words to answer a question. He opened his mouth, wanting to voice all his thoughts, then closed it again before exchanging a glance with his wife who seemed to understand his plight.
Adgar took off the glove covering his left hand and considered his next words. How should a parent tell their ten year old son that he had a terminal illness that would kill him before the age of twenty-five? It was, he admitted to himself, too difficult. He couldn't do it. He didn't want to do it.
"No you're not sick, my son." Adgar exhaled sharply and flashed a cheerful smile, trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. "I only asked because the doctor said to expect you feeling some pain once you awakened.." he looked into his son's ocean blue eyes that mirrored his, regretting his next words, "Part of the after effects of severe aetheric shock."
Arlo cocked a brow, "Aetheric shock?"
"It's a magical ailment caused when the soul is exposed to more aether than it can handle." his mother was the one who answered, and Arlo turned to face her. "It causes the body's immune system to release a flood of chemicals that make a person go into shock, rendering them unconscious in severe cases. It's a common accident during Ignition rituals."
Arlo hummed and chewed on that bit of information. An aetheric shock huh? So that was why father seemed surprised. Damn, it must've really hit him hard to knock him out for three weeks straight. It was interesting how the body and soul were inextricably linked in ways that caused them to affect each other.
'Well, at least it wasn't anything serious.'
He inwardly heaved a sigh of relief, finding solace in that fact. A serious sickness didn't bode well in a society with Victorian Era medical technology, even if it was a magical one. Thankfully, he'd escaped the worst case scenario, though something wasn't quite adding up..
"Then why did you send for an overseas doctor, father?" he turned to the duke, adding,"If my condition was something commonly seen, that is."
Wrinkles quickly formed across Adgar's forehead. How did his son find out that information? He glanced at his wife, who seemed just as surprised as he was, then at Loretta who blinked at him innocently. He squinted his eyes, realizing it was probably through her. She'd been the only one to enter his room since he'd awoken.
"I sent for one because I thought something serious had happened to you." Adgar pulled out another lie, causing him to feel even more guilty, "The person I sent for was the best arcane physician in all the Tetrad, so I was only able to feel at ease after hearing his diagnosis."
"I see." Arlo stifled the urge to whistle in amazement. The best arcane physician in all the Tetrad? That was big praise coming from his father, a man who rarely gave it.
The Tetrad, or The Four Nations, referred to the nations ruled or founded by the descendants of the Five Wardens of the Solarian Theocracy—an ancient, colossal, theocratic polity that stretched across all the four continents at its peak. The Five Wardens were its supreme leaders, self-proclaimed gods once worshiped by all their subjects.
'The Tetrad' was just a phrase the four nations used to distinguish themselves from other contemporary polities, a product of their elitist ego. They were the First Domain's most advanced civilizations, both technologically and magically, and by Arlo's estimates they controlled well over half its known resources.
The Pruvian Empire, Federal Republic of Grand Maria, Betonese Empire, and Vahlafrorian Confederation. Edward had made sure he committed their names to memory. Arlo lost count of the amount of times he'd stressed its importance.
Arcane physicians were one of the rarest magical professions in The First Domain. Due to the stringent requirements to become one, they only existed and operated within the Tetrad, the only place where they could be paid what they were worth.
Arlo recalled that they were different from healers. The difference primarily lay in the fact that arcane physicians were significantly more skilled than healers. They were scholars in both medicine and the arcane, and jointly used their mastery of the two to treat diseases.
Healers were limited to just their knowledge of traditional medical methods—including herbal remedies— and healing magic, which they often spent their entire lives learning and mastering. They were the cheaper, and more common, medical aid a person could get.
An arcane physician could heal all the diseases a healer could, but a healer could not heal all the diseases an arcane physician could.
"Anyways," his mother suddenly changed the topic, wearing a big smile, "Congratulations on igniting your Spark! You've finally embarked on the path of a practitioner." She held his hand and caressed it. "Your father and I are both very proud of you."
"Congratulations, son."
"Congratulations, brother!"
Adgar and Loretta—who suddenly became all giddy—joined her in smiling, and they both looked at him, expressions of pride and joy morphing their faces.
Arlo couldn't help smiling. What a sight this was. Was this what it would have felt like to have a family at the high school graduation ceremony he never got the chance to attend?
"Thanks mother and father." his excitement trickled from his tone, and his father suddenly held his left hand up, presenting its backside for Arlo to see. Arlo regarded the sigil imprinted on it.
Its design was the symbol of a star with a circle inscribed inside it, and a straight line inscribed within that. The whole thing glowed a lustrous silver, and Arlo noticed the small eye inscribed underneath the entire thing.
He'd always wondered what it was. Was his father finally going to tell him? Whenever he asked the man, he always hid behind the statement of 'You'll learn in due time', as he did with most things magic-related.
"Remember this?" His father's voice tugged him from his thoughts.
"Yes, I do."
"This," the duke pointed at it with his gloved right hand, "is the mark of a practitioner. You'll get yours once your magical education commences. That fulfills my promise to explain it to you the moment you ignited your Spark."
"It does." Arlo grinned, acknowledging the new information. He tilted his head, "What about the others?"
"All in due time." Adgar laughed. The cheeky lad had just woken up, yet he was still as curious as ever. Not one bit interested in recovering first.
"You can't hide behind that excuse anymore." Arlo quietly said, shaking his head.
"And I don't intend to." Adgar put his glove back on. "First, however, you must recover. I've instructed Anna and the maids to prepare you a bath and a proper meal. Bathe, eat, and rest up, then come find me in the evening. We've much to discuss."
Arlo watched his father stand up and pick up his cane and top hat. The duke ruffled his hair, "I'm glad you're awake again. There's time for everything, so take things easy."
He said, smiled at his Loretta and his mother, before exiting the room, his stride seeming more relaxed then when he entered. Arlo couldn't stop the excitement welling within his stomach.
He was finally going to get his answers.