Chereads / Merlin's son unchained / Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

"Dormitories? I thought that was the school," Elowen said, raising an eyebrow. The headmaster and Draven burst into laughter, struggling to stifle it behind their hands.

"Sorry, but that's just the sleeping quarters for students, staff, and teachers," the headmaster explained, pointing to a massive amethyst and silver castle towering behind them. "The real school is over there."

The castle, much larger and grander than the dorms, loomed in the distance, where cheerleaders were celebrating, and students held a banner that read, "Welcome, New Students!"

"This place is incredible," Mel thought as he gazed up at the towering school. "I'm going to live the rest of my life as a normal person."

As the group was ushered into a sleek purple limo parked behind three others, Mel couldn't resist playing with the window, his eyes lighting up as he watched it go up and down. "This is amazing," he marveled, his gaze following the glass. "And this is called a car window? I've heard of cars, but this is something else."

His enthusiasm grated on the others' nerves. From the passenger seat beside the limo driver, Draven, rubbing his scaly fingers together, glanced back. "You know, some people like to stick their heads out the window and feel the breeze."

Mel's eyes widened, and without hesitation, he stuck his head out, reveling in the sensation. "Wow!" he muttered.

"That should keep him busy," Elowen whispered to Draven and Dorian, who both nodded in relief.

"So, what clubs are you two thinking of joining?" Draven asked, trying to shift the focus.

Elowen crossed her legs with poise. "I'm joining the sword fighting club. As a future queen, I need to be able to defend my kingdom." She grinned, confident in her choice.

Dorian rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't you be better off kissing babies or something? I'm joining the sky jousting club. It'll be easy for someone who can already fly—unlike you two."

Elowen and Draven stared at him in disbelief. "You can fly?" they asked in unison.

Dorian's expression twisted with annoyance. "Of course I can fly! I'm the son of Dracula, for heaven's sake!"

Before they could respond, a loud thud interrupted them, followed by a collective gasp as the driver swerved. They turned to see Mel, holding the car door in his hand, the hinge broken. "Sorry! I wanted to catch more wind!"

Panic set in as the limo veered off the road and tumbled toward the river. "We're dead! WE'RE SO DEAD! I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO BECOME GOOD FRIENDS WITH YOU ALL YET! PLEASE, I DON'T WANNA DIE!" Dorian screamed, his eyes squeezed shut, breathing heavily.

But then, he realized they were swinging gently. "Uh, Dorian? Can't you fly?" Elowen called, snapping him back to reality. He opened his eyes to find himself suspended above the water, with Mel holding the limo in one hand while clinging to the edge of the road with the other. 

"Draven, a little help here?" Mel groaned, struggling under the weight.

Draven, feet propped on the dashboard and still strapped into his seatbelt, shrugged. "Nah, I don't want to steal your thunder." Dorian nervously nodded. "Y-yeah, I didn't fly because I didn't want to steal Mel's thunder!"

"Thank you sir," Mel grunted as he hoisted the limo upward.

"Don't thank him!" Elowen shouted, gripping the seat for dear life. Dorian clung to the headrest, his voice rising in panic. "Just get us out of here!"

With a mighty swing, Mel heaved the limo back onto the road, and they landed with a jarring thud. Elowen, Dorian, and Draven groaned as they made contact with the pavement.

Mel climbed up after them, dusting off his clothes as he stood. He looked around, only to find the entire school—teachers, staff, freshmen, and Headmaster Thaddeus—staring at them in stunned silence, jaws dropped.

"Hello, I'm Melanthius, son of Merlin—"

Before he could finish, the crowd erupted in applause and cheers, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Mel clamped his hands over his ears, wincing at the uproar. "What is this noise? Are they under some hex? I'll have to execute them! Elowen, I'm borrowing this!" He declared with dramatic urgency, reaching for Excalibur protruding from her bag.

But before he could grasp it, Dorian quickly grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. "No need for that!" he said with a nervous chuckle, wiping sweat from his forehead. "You can't wield Excalibur anyway. It's… kind of a legendary thing, you know?"

"They're cheering you on, Mel!" Elowen said, stepping forward, though her legs trembled with anxiety. "They're not attacking—they're celebrating because you just saved our lives."

The claps and cheers continued unabated. Draven approached Mel and gave him a light pat on the head. "See? I told you I didn't want to steal your thunder."

Just then, a car screeched to a halt in front of the kingdom. Out stepped Princess Rue, who casually tapped the vehicle, transforming it into a small button she tucked into her pocket. "What's all this commotion? I haven't even arrived yet, and you're already causing chaos?" Her eyes fell on Mel, and she sneered. "And who's this raggedy man? In our uniform, no less?"

The clapping ceased instantly, and everyone stood to attention.

Draven folded his arms, rolling his eyes. "Oh, great…her again," he muttered under his breath. "Princess Rue, this is Melanthius, son of Merlin. He's one of your peers now," Draven explained, gesturing toward Mel.

Rue scoffed, her face contorting with disgust. "Since when did we allow criminals into the kingdom? Raised in Caldara Bastille, no less. He's probably here to stir up trouble just like his father."

Mel's gaze dropped as he fidgeted with his fingers. Elowen's face twisted with anger as she stepped up. "Hey! You think you can judge him? He just saved our lives! Granted, it was kinda his fault, but he lifted an 1,800-pound limo with one arm! Something you'd probably pay someone else to do!"

Rue rolled her eyes. "Aren't you Elowen Pendragon? Your father would be rolling in his grave if he saw his daughter being saved by the son of someone he killed. Maybe we should call your big brother to give you some discipline—oh wait, we can't!" She burst into laughter, causing Elowen's eye to twitch in fury.

"You're dead," Elowen growled, storming towards Rue. Dorian rushed to hold her back, but her strength dragged him along with her. "You can't fight a princess in her own kingdom!" he pleaded, struggling to stop her.

"What's the matter? Can't control your temper?" Rue taunted, a smirk playing on her lips. From her back, an array of cybernetic implants emerged: a red laser aimed at Elowen's head, a blue laser sword, and one of her eyes glowing with cybernetic precision. 

"That's enough!" Thaddeus shouted, his voice echoing through the courtyard. In an instant, Draven appeared in front of Elowen, extending one of his wings to block her. "You heard the headmaster. Stop it, both of you. Rue, you're supposed to be in your formal dress and introducing the new students," he said, his glare fixed on her.

Rue sneered but retracted her implants, her eyes returning to their normal state. "Whatever, Draven. I don't have to listen to you," she snapped. Pulling out the button again, she pressed it, transforming it into a glider. With a swift motion, she mounted it and shot off at incredible speed, leaving a gust of wind in her wake.

As the tension dissipated, everyone exhaled in relief. Thaddeus wiped the sweat from his forehead and offered a nervous chuckle. "I apologize for my niece's behavior, everyone," he said before quickly resuming his duties.

Draven lowered his wing and noticed Elowen's bleeding fist. "What happened?" he began to ask, but his gaze shifted to the forest a few yards away. There, among the trees, a cluster of boulders lay shattered, stained with blood. He turned back to Elowen, whose face was twisted in a rage, her breath hissing through clenched teeth.

"Elowen, you need to calm down," Draven said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder, trying to soothe the storm brewing within her.

She flinched at his touch but didn't pull away, her breathing ragged and uneven. Her clenched fists trembled with barely contained fury, and the blood from her knuckles dripped onto the ground. Elowen closed her eyes, taking in his words as she gradually released the tension in her body. "You're right," she whispered, the fire in her eyes slowly dimming and she unclenched her knuckles.

A few moments later, Thaddeus cleared his throat, drawing the crowd's attention once more. "Alright, students, despite the unexpected interruption, it's time to introduce this year's Black Card holders!" His voice boomed with authority, and the courtyard erupted in applause and cheers.

He continued, "First, from the senior Black Cards: Kai Stormbringer, heir to the Northern Barrens! Jasper Onyx, prince of the Dwarven mountain clans! And last but certainly not least, the one who single-handedly ended the Jester incident in his junior year and the sole heir to the Drachenwald kingdom—Draven Stormclaw!"

As their names were called, Kai, Jasper, and Draven strode confidently to the steps of the school, standing tall and proud. Their presence commanded respect, each of them exuding an air of power and prestige.

Dorian, Elowen, and Mel gaped in astonishment, their voices overlapping in disbelief. "You're a student?!"

Mel's eyes widened with admiration as he gazed up at Draven, the dragon hybrid standing proudly among the elite. "Draven… he's incredible," he thought, feeling a surge of inspiration.

"Next, we have the junior black cards who famously hosted the Knight of Dawn Prom during their sophomore year: Laurel Havenfall, daughter of the Spirit Queen; Emrys Ambrose, heir to the Golden Throne; and Kali Indraja, princess of the Eastern Isles." The three young women ascended the stairs gracefully and performed a synchronized curtsy.

Dorian's eyes lit up with excitement as he shook Mel's shoulder. "Those girls are incredible!"

Elowen rolled her eyes with a hint of exasperation. "Typical," she muttered under her breath.

Thaddeus continued, "And now, for the sophomore black cards who revolutionized the arena with spell ball: Amara Winterborn, princess of the Frostlands; Cassius Taurus, prince of the Minotaur Kingdom; and Astroman, son of the Astronomer Royal." The trio took their positions, and with a few taps on their arms, summoned a robot that performed a series of dazzling acrobatics. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers.

"We're up next," Mel thought to himself, his resolve hardening. "I didn't make much of an impression back at the castle, but I won't repeat that mistake. Wait, maybe I can use it!"

Thaddeus continued with the introductions. "And last but certainly not least, the black card freshmen with the most formidable potential I've seen since last year: Dorian Dracula, son of Vlad Dracula, the reigning king of Bloodthorn Dominion." At his cue, Dorian transformed into a flock of bats, soaring gracefully to the platform before reassembling into his human form with a dramatic superhero landing.

Cheers erupted, though some laughter followed. "Isn't that the guy who cried for his mom when he fell off the edge?" The laughter grew louder, and Dorian hissed, his frustration palpable.

Thaddeus pressed on, "Next, Elowen Pendragon, daughter of Arthur Pendragon." Elowen stepped onto the platform, raising her sword high. "LIGHTNING OF CAMELOT!" she cried, and a bolt of lightning descended, crackling around her sword with electrifying energy.

The crowd gasped in awe and cheered, while Mel's eyes widened in astonishment. "Since when could they do that? I knew they were impressive, but this is on another level. Should I use my power too? Will they accept me or fear me? I'm afraid of my own abilities—I've never used them before. But I want to be a normal kid." He clenched his fists in his pockets, determination burning in his eyes.

"And finally, from Caldara Bastille, Melanthius Shadowbane, son of the late King Merlin of Noctara." As Mel stepped forward, uneasy glances followed him, though the crowd still clapped, their applause tinged with nervousness.

On the platform, Mel extended his hand, breathing heavily as a dark sphere of energy formed above it.

"What's he doing?!" someone shouted.

"He's going to destroy us all!" a woman screamed, causing a wave of panic to spread through the crowd.

Mel's heart sank as he heard the fearful reactions. "Is that how they see me? As a monster?" The ball of energy crackled ominously.

"Seize him!" another voice cried out.

"Silence!" Draven's commanding tone cut through the chaos as he stepped behind Mel. "Keep going," he urged with a nod. Mel glanced at him, the energy ball stabilizing from its erratic crackling to a calm swirl.

With a deep breath, Mel raised his arm and pointed to the sky. He launched the sphere, and to everyone's astonishment, a brilliant rainbow arced across the sky, accompanied by a gentle, soothing drizzle that showered the crowd in a light, refreshing mist. The atmosphere shifted from tense to serene as the crowd's nervous murmurs faded into delighted gasps.

Mel looked around, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and hope. The once uneasy stares were now replaced with awe and admiration. The students, faculty, and staff stood captivated, their faces illuminated by the soft, colorful glow of the rainbow.

Draven, observing the change, allowed a small, approving smile to play on his lips. Thaddeus's expression softened with a look of understanding and approval.

Elowen, her earlier anger replaced by surprise and admiration, whispered to Dorian, "Maybe he's not just a shadow after all."

Dorian, still trying to process the dramatic display, nodded, his eyes reflecting the shimmering colors. "Seems like there's more to Mel than we thought."

As the rainbow slowly faded and the mist dissipated, Mel stood tall, his confidence renewed by the unexpected acceptance from those around him. The crowd erupted in genuine applause, their cheers resonating with warmth and welcome.

A few moments later, Mel found himself sitting in a classroom filled with other freshmen. Elowen and Dorian weren't in this class with him, leaving him feeling slightly out of place. The teacher, a stern-looking bald man in a crisp suit, wrote on the chalkboard. The chalk scratched loudly as he scrawled his name, "Professor Estron," followed by the subject, "History of Magic and Technology."

Without turning around, Professor Estron's voice boomed through the room, "I don't care whose offspring you are, I don't care if you're a red card, black card—hell, you could have no card at all. In this class, you will do the work my way or it's the highway!" His stern tone caused the entire class to reply in unison, "Yes, sir!" Mel, unfamiliar with the routine, echoed them a beat too late.

As Mel tried to settle in, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a chubby, short boy with a mark over his right eye, sitting beside him. The boy smiled warmly. "Hey, I'm Jake Knight, from the Horace Groves," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

Mel shook his hand, replying, "I'm Melanthius Shadowbane."

Jake chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "I know who you are—you're the only black card in the class."

Mel noticed the mark on Jake's eye and gestured toward it. "Where'd that come from?"

Jake instinctively touched the mark. "Oh, this? It's hereditary. It's supposed to be a symbol for magic, but I never got the powers, so I'm stuck with a white card." He let out a nervous laugh and showed his card.

Mel patted Jake's head reassuringly. "Cards don't determine strength. I'm sure you'll find your power one day." 

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by Professor Estron's booming voice. "Melanthius! Why are you talking in my class? You think being a black card gives you special treatment?" He marched over to Mel's desk, brandishing a ruler.

Mel raised his hands defensively. "No, sir!"

Professor Estron leaned in, pointing the ruler directly at Mel's face. "What would happen if you combined a power generator strong enough to start up a stadium with the magical powers of a griffin? Infinite energy, or would you be able to power up a robot?" His voice was sharp, and the room fell silent.

Mel hesitated, unsure how to answer. "I—" Before he could finish, Estron smacked him on the head with the ruler. The classroom collectively gasped in shock.

"The school allows some teachers to use a paddle when students misbehave or talk out of turn," Estron sneered. "It's a rule not to hit the black cards, but I'm all for equality. Fame isn't everything." He turned to walk away, but then noticed that the end of the ruler had broken off.

He turned back, stunned to see fragments of the ruler scattered on the floor and bits still clinging to Mel's head.

Mel, unfazed, touched his chin thoughtfully. "Hm, it was a trick question. You didn't give the correct options. With that much energy, you'd explode instantaneously." He looked up at the professor with wide, innocent eyes. "Also, if you believe in equality, then go for it."

The entire class sat in stunned silence, waiting for Professor Estron's response, but Mel's calm confidence left the teacher momentarily speechless.

Estron's eyes widened in surprise. Was I wrong? Did I not know the correct answer? He thought, bewildered. And what's up with those innocent eyes?! Wasn't he raised in a prison? His eyes should be dead and soulless! He rambled inwardly, struggling to reconcile the image he had of Mel with the boy standing before him.

Mel, unfazed, stood up from his desk and walked confidently to the chalkboard. "Also," he said, picking up a piece of chalk, "the coding for the cyborg dragon is incorrect. If you want it to spew fire properly, you need to adjust it like this."

He began marking up the board, writing lines of complex code that had the other students leaning in, intrigued. As he explained, the class's initial tension dissolved into genuine interest, and for the first time, the students seemed captivated not by their teacher's authority, but by Mel's unexpected expertise.

The teacher analyzed Mel's coding, his eyes twitching as he took in the flawless work. Fury bubbled inside him, and in a sudden outburst, he grabbed another ruler and let out a scream like a wild man. He swung it at Mel, but Mel effortlessly dodged each strike.

The students gasped, pressing their backs against the walls as Estron continued his frantic assault. "Six years of being stuck as a white card, unable to use any technology because I wasn't a black card!" Estron raged, his voice cracking with desperation. "Now, after 30 years of teaching, you come here—raised in captivity—and you effortlessly solve problems that took me decades to understand?! I hate you! I hate you!"

Estron's attacks grew increasingly frantic, forcing Mel toward the door. With one final, wild swing, Mel ducked just in time, and Estron's momentum sent him crashing through the glass with a loud shatter. The room fell into a stunned silence, the students too shocked to move.

After a tense moment, Estron groaned and struggled to his feet, his fury undiminished. Screaming again, he resumed his assault, this time with even more speed, forcing Mel to dodge with greater difficulty. "Everything has a weakness," Mel reminded himself as Estron raised his ruler for a downward strike. Just as the blow was about to land, Mel sidestepped and subtly tripped Estron, sending him sprawling forward.

As Estron fell, he caught a terrifying glimpse of the ruler's point aimed directly at his eye. "Is this really how it ends? All because I wanted to act tough against a kid?!" he thought in a panic. But before the ruler could strike, Mel grabbed him by the collar, pulling him back just in time. "That was way too close," Mel muttered, sighing in relief as he gently turned Estron onto his back and crouched beside him.

Estron opened his eyes to see Mel's concerned face hovering above him. "This kid... he's nothing like his father," Estron thought, regretting his earlier actions. "I should've made him my assistant instead of attacking him. He could've made my class fun for the students."

Just then, the door burst open, and Thaddeus stormed into the classroom. "What the hell happened here?!" he demanded, his eyes scanning the shattered glass and the students pressed against the walls. All fingers pointed at Mel and Estron.

Estron groaned, his face filled with resignation. "Well, that's it. I'm fired," he muttered, trying to sit up but wincing from the glass shards embedded in his back. "Headmaster, I—"

Before he could finish, Mel helped him to his feet. "Sorry, Headmaster," Mel began, his voice steady. "I was trying to show Professor Estron that magic was better than technology, but I lost control of my rainbow abilities. He tried to catch me and accidentally fell into the glass door. I'll take him to the infirmary right now."

Estron blinked in confusion as Mel's words sank in. Thaddeus sighed, stepping carefully over the broken glass. "Well, Mel, I'll have to give you detention. You'll spend it with Professor Estron, cleaning up this mess."

Mel nodded respectfully. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He gently guided Estron out of the room.

Once outside, Estron looked at Mel with a mix of disbelief and gratitude. "Why'd you cover for me?" he asked, his voice softer now.

Mel kept his gaze forward as they walked. "You were a student once too. It must've been frustrating not being able to do the fun robotics stuff because of card rankings," Mel explained calmly.

Estron limped beside him, biting his lip as he reflected on Mel's words. "This kid... he's either too kind or just incredibly naive."

A few minutes later, they were in the infirmary, where Estron lay bandaged on his back and face. He winced slightly as he adjusted his position, then glanced at Mel. "So… where'd you learn to move like that?"

Mel, who had been fiddling with a stethoscope and distracted by the sound of his own heartbeat, removed the device and looked at Estron. "Well, when I was in the Bastille, I must have been about seven. No one cared about my status because I was just a kid. They'd take my food, beat me up, all that.

It wasn't until I met a man there who defended me that things changed. He taught me his moral codes, how to fight, how to spot people's weaknesses. He knew magic history inside out, and he showed me how to fight for myself. I think he died when I turned twelve—one day, he was just gone. But by then, I knew how to defend myself. I even had the other inmates scared to say my name.

I hated it—using fear to get what you want—but in the Bastille, it was the only way to survive. I hated it—using fear to get what you want—but in the Bastille, it was the only way to survive. You either learned to become the predator, or you stayed the prey. It was brutal, but it taught me how to outthink and outmaneuver people who were stronger, faster, and more ruthless. But I promised myself that once I got out, I'd never be that person again. I wanted to use what I'd learned to protect, not intimidate."

Mel's gaze drifted away as he spoke, his voice tinged with a quiet resolve. "That's why I'm happy to be at Arcanum. I want to find a different way to live—a way where strength doesn't mean stepping on others. Maybe here, I can finally learn how to be strong without being cruel. I guess that's why I didn't just let you fall earlier, even after everything. There's always a better way.""

Estron listened in silence, his expression softening as Mel spoke. After a moment, he sighed and looked down at the floor, the weight of Mel's words sinking in.

"You're a better man than most who've walked through these halls, Mel," Estron finally said, his voice quiet but sincere. "I've been teaching here for decades, and I've seen all kinds of students—those who use their power to dominate, and those who hide from it. But I've rarely seen someone who's been through what you have and still wants to find a different path."

He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. "I've spent so long being bitter about what I couldn't achieve, blaming others, letting it twist me into someone I barely recognize. But hearing you talk about finding another way… it makes me wonder if I've been wrong all this time. Maybe there's still time for me to learn too."

Estron met Mel's gaze, his expression a mix of regret and newfound respect. "You've got something special, kid. Don't lose that. And if you ever need help along the way, well… I guess I owe you one."

"Well, the least you could do is tell me what happened with the last black card seniors. A storekeeper mentioned something about a senior incident," Mel said, sitting at the edge of the bed where Estron lay.

Estron's eyes widened, and he glanced around nervously. After a moment, he signaled for Mel to come closer. Mel leaned in, and Estron spoke in a hushed tone, "Last year, there was a black card student—the son of a jester. He was incredibly smart and a brilliant fighter, and he had this magic deck of cards that was his signature weapon. Like you, he was transferred here, but not from prison. His family had been forced into labor, and he was born into it, so he never had any formal education. The only person who taught him anything was Headmaster Thaddeus. I think the headmaster felt sorry for him."

Estron paused, his expression darkening. "During his introduction, he arrived in a full jester's outfit—tights, hat, the whole thing. Before he even had a chance to showcase his skills, the entire school erupted in laughter. They threw things at him, called him names... It was brutal. And then, one of his fellow black cards shoved him off the platform. That was the breaking point. He snapped and went on a rampage, using his card magic to destroy half the school. Draven had to step in, and he slashed at the jester with his sword. But here's the strange part: the jester vanished into thin air. To this day, no one knows if it was Draven's magic that made him disappear, or if it was something else entirely."

Mel listened to the story, a pang of sorrow tightening in his chest. "He was just like me... didn't understand the school, and they laughed at him," he thought, gripping the bed sheet.

Estron's voice broke the silence, his tone firm. "Don't ask me to tell that story again. It's the kind of thing that makes a man lose faith in humanity."

Mel hopped off the bed, standing to attention. "Yes, sir. Thanks for sharing it with me." Just then, the bell rang.

"That's your gym bell. You'd better change into your gym clothes," Estron reminded him.

Mel nodded and reached for the doorknob. "And, Professor Estron, I hope I can help you with your class tomorrow." With that, he walked out of the room, leaving Estron in a moment of reflective silence.