Chapter 100 - The New Young Master

The villa provided by the academy was more of a palace by Skyle’s humble standards. Three entire floors were filled with every ludicrous luxury a pampered aristocratic brat might desire while away from the familiar comforts of daddy’s two hundred room castle.

The front courtyard alone occupied ten times the space of Skyle’s home. It was filled with carefully trimmed bushes and exotic flowers. Burbling fountains were spread throughout, along with discretely placed benches and nooks that would easily accommodate ten times the number of people who would be occupying the villa.

It even came with its own staff of a pretty young maid, a scrawny kid dressed in the academy livery, a rotund woman grinning from behind a white apron, and a balding man with a neatly trimmed beard. They were all lined up by the front gate, stiff as a board. Who knew how long they had been waiting for?

Skyle glanced down at the address in his hand a few times with a disbelieving squint. In fact, he would have headed back to the administrative offices in order to straighten out the obvious mistake in the address, had the wispy-haired old man not rushed forward to intercept him as soon as they had rounded the corner.

“Young Master Skyle Farrow, if I’m not mistaken? It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

Skyle blinked a few times at the gracious bow offered by the old man before returning it with his own clumsy imitation of a greeting. The man exuded an air of professional deference, from his immaculate jacket and breeches of neat black cotton, to the spotless white shirt that shone brightly under the noon sun. A similar glare was reflected from his impeccably polished black leather shoes.

“M-Master Skyle? I’m Skyle, but I’m no young master. And I’m pleased to meet you as well.”

“Young Master Skyle, your demeanor is as gracious as your words. As for the appellation, it is merely the proper address for all the servants who have the honor to attend to the needs of the noble geniuses of Aegis Academy.”

“I’m afraid I’m no genius, mister..” Skyle trailed off.

“Oh, I’ve been woefully remiss in my introductions. I’m Cyrus Jameson, head of the service staff for the Belleview Villa. Please, do me the honor to address me as Jameson. I will strive to make your stay at Aegis as pleasant as possible.”

“Uh, we don’t really require much-” Skyle began, but was promptly shoved aside from behind.

“Jameson, pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Kassandra Farrow and this is my brother, Reikard. Your services will be very appreciated in the future. Kindly introduce your capable staff to us.”

Kassandra pointedly ignored Skyle’s gaping stare as she nodded graciously at Jameson’s acknowledging bow.

“Of course. It is an honor, Young Mistress Kassandra, Young Master Reikard. Please, allow me to introduce the serving staff of Belleview Villa.”

Jameson spread his hand toward the pretty green-eyed girl dressed in a black-and-white maid outfit. Fiery, shoulder-length curls of red framed full cheeks and a bright smile. She could not have been a day over sixteen, if that old. Still, she towered a full head over Skyle. Her snug outfit accentuated her slim, hourglass figure in interesting ways.

“This is Nessa Lindhurst, the serving maid. She will be responsible for catering for your needs at all times, whatever they may be.”

“It is a pleasure to serve you, young masters, young mistress.” Nessa dipped in a deep curtsy, flashing a bashful smile at her new masters.

Perhaps because of the fresh trauma involving Syrene’s harassment, Skyle caught his gaze drifting down the flowing fabric of the outfit the young girl was wearing. While nowhere as scandalous as Syrene’s outfit, it still followed the common fashion trend of Imperial aristocracy and favored the plunging neckline that displayed Nessa’s generous cleavage to great effect.

Skyle caught himself with a start and immediately averted his gaze, but the sudden movement and the inevitable heat that colored his cheeks gave him away. Nessa’s own pale cheeks turned crimson as she blushed and hurriedly looked down, biting her rosy lips.

Kassandra nodded gracefully, though she did send a warning glance toward Skyle.

If Jameson noticed, he didn’t show it. Instead, he moved down the line and waved his hand toward a young, ginger-haired boy who bore a striking resemblance to Nessa. They were likely siblings, though he looked to be of an age with Reikard.

“This is Timmy Lindhurst, the pageboy. He’s in charge of running messages and errands at your pleasure.”

“Masters, Mistress,” Timmy said, pressing a round cap to his chest and bowing deeply.

Skyle could only nod numbly, still flustered. Kassandra and Reikard did much better, obviously much more used to the contrivances of noble society after being exposed to the culture at the academy for this past year.

“Finally, this is Helga Spanswick, the cook. She will be in charge of preparing your meals, should you decide to dine in instead of availing yourself of the academy’s fare.”

The chubby middle-aged woman smiled broadly as she curtsied, spreading her apron with her pudgy fingers.

“Be a honor to serve the young masters and the young mistress.”

Kassandra nodded with a gracious smile that encompassed all the servants. Before she could say a word, however, Skyle nudged her aside and jumped in.

“Please, we won’t stand for formalities,” he began with a rueful smile, spreading his hands to his sides. “We’re just farmers, used to tilling the land, harvesting crops, and raising farm stock.”

Kassandra spluttered, her eyes flying wide with outrage. She stepped forward, but Skyle poked her in the ribs and kept on going, ignoring his baby sister’s protests.

“We wouldn’t dare take your livelihoods from you, but our parents raised us with the firm mentality that any Farrow ought to be able to take care of themselves. I’m sure they wouldn’t want any of their children to be spoiled rotten in the lap of luxury,” Skyle said, with a pointed glance toward Kassandra.

Reikard barely stifled a snicker as he hung on to his sister’s hands in order to hold her back.

“I’m sure we will work out a compromise in the future, but please rest easy in the knowledge that we’re simple folk, likely of much humbler origins than any of you. Please, look after us in the future.”

Skyle bowed before the startled eyes of the staff. They quickly shook themselves and bowed even more deeply, murmuring platitudes.

Ignoring Kassandra’s baleful glare, Skyle followed Jameson as he led them on a quick tour of the villa. It was a complex labyrinth of over 20 rooms, two inner courtyards, and three gathering halls. That was not to mention numerous spaces which in Skyle’s opinion served no real purpose at all.

A sitting room? What was the purpose of that? Surely, even in the unlikely event that any of the dozens of ornate chairs strewn all around the mansion were unavailable, any of the gleaming tiles which had been polished to a sheen were equally adequate for the task of sitting on your bum?

The solar? Even if it was well illuminated by a mind-boggling wealth of everlight lanterns, why would anyone want to squirm around in the cavernous hall when you could be sitting in the great outdoors and basking under the comforting warmth of the actual sun?

An anteroom? Why would any sane man waste so much space just to make a guest sit there and wait? Then what was the purpose of the sitting room, the guest room, the vestibule, the parlor, or any number of similar rooms?

All in all, it was a baffling display of wasted space and excessive luxury. Skyle grimly vowed that he would not let his siblings be corrupted by these silly aristocratic notions.

In the end, Jameson insisted until Skyle couldn’t help but chose the largest personal chamber in the complex for himself. It was separated into an anteroom, a great chamber, and a private study. There was also a small side door that led to a narrow servant’s room, though at the moment it was unoccupied. Jameson had informed him that noble students would always bring a personal servant who would stay by their side at all times. Maybe Ash would like to have his own room?

The main chamber was fully furnished with rich tapestries hanging from the walls and thick rugs covering nearly every inch of the floor. A bed almost as wide around as his entire room back at the farm beckoned with pristine sheets and nearly a dozen pillows of different shapes and sizes. A large fireplace dominated one side of the room, upon which hung a couple ornamental swords. On the opposite wall there was a balcony that faced the main inner courtyard.

He rushed Jameson and his siblings outside and shut the door behind them. The old servant left with obvious reluctance. Only upon Skyle’s solemn promise that should he want for anything, he would summon the staff at once using the servants’ bell, did the stiff old man finally take his leave. The bell in question was an elaborate affair of filigreed gold, from which a rich, velvet cord lay suspended. Skyle did his best not to roll his eyes at the extravagance of it all.

Finally finding some peace and quiet, Skyle collapsed upon the bed and stared up at the ceiling while struggling against the despair he felt at his awful performance in the morning’s tests.

Skyle liked to think of himself as a courageous boy, steadier by far than most others his age. After all, Ria had spent centuries nurturing his soul, not to mention the careful training he had received from his parents. The many perils he had faced in Sanctuary had only served to further strengthen his will.

No, this wasn’t about being a coward. It was a very rational fear of the fatal consequences should anyone discover the taint in his blood. Already, he had several questions as to how he had managed to foil the Church’s yearly tests for the Shadowblight. Was he Shadowblighted, or was his taint different somehow? Had his parents and Talon used their influence to safely guide him through the tests? Would his newly awakened talent mark him for death upon discovery?

All these important questions had been neglected by the rush of his parents’ departure. Kendric had only shrugged off Skyle’s insistent questions. This was usually his father’s attitude to lazy thinking, as he despised indolent minds. The answers were important, but Kendric Farrow had never been one to spoon feed his children.

After furiously debating his options back and forth in his mind, Skyle reached a decision. Since his parents had taken the initiative to enroll him into the academy, and had even mentioned that he would benefit from the experience, Skyle decided to embrace this new identity as the new genius of Aegis Academy. It would mean threading a fine balance between availing himself of every opportunity to further boost his talent, while at the same time suppressing his taint and hiding it from the world.

The devil was in the details, but Skyle was sure Uncle Talon would help him with his vast experience. Surely, his uncle’s identity as an inquisitor of the Holy Church couldn’t hurt his cause. As he thought of this, Skyle glanced toward the balcony and toward bright sunlight streaming in the window.

He had an important appointment to keep with his uncle tonight, but that was hours from now, after darkness fell. At the moment, his exhausted mind demanded some rest. Perhaps the exertions of his talent had drained him more than he had thought. Under the scrutiny of the 4th layer of the Infinite Eye, his elemental veins were still as tragic a sight as ever. Only scattered remnants of his innate blue essence could be glimpsed in a few core areas around his chest, head, and limbs. The rest of his veins were blanketed under the smothering darkness of the taint.

Upon further examination, Skyle’s brow furrowed as he noticed a difference. It was almost imperceptible, but the shadow essence in his veins seemed a bit more sluggish, its layers thinner than usual. It still swirled in thick eddies around the taint, but he could almost feel the exhaustion coloring its presence.

“All my monkeying around with the tests must have expended its energy. I can’t keep bumbling around with the shadow essence. I have to learn more about it. Ria implied this gift was the key to defeating the taint. How can I wield it most effectively? How do I nurture it? Hell, I don’t even know where it comes from.”

Skyle frowned deeply at this. His True Sight revealed infinite strands of essence swirling all around him. Even his own skin and flesh pulsed with impossibly complex layers of elemental essence woven so intricately that he could only marvel at the majestic sight. Even the weaves of the Regis testing magical circle seemed mundane by comparison.

His sight did reveal one aspect of the world in startling detail, however. Each strand of essence had its own characteristic hue. This color was more than random chance or a mere cosmetic difference. Each element glowed with its own spectrum of color, and it was here that Skyle found an intriguing question.

In all the weaves of essence around him, Skyle could see every color imaginable, split into gradients far too varied to measure. There were two shades that were glaringly obvious for their absence, however. One was the darkness of the taint, and the other was the shadow of his blood gift.

This matter was significant, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. Skyle knew from experience that disease and infection had its own sickly colors under the True Sight. Even death had its distinctive aura that lingered behind. The taint, however, was unique in its palette. Was it simply because it originated from another world?

Skyle shook his head. Even in Sanctuary, he remembered the auras of the army of cultists who had imprisoned him. They had all worn the familiar colors of the elements. His own mother was from the world of Lyria, yet her aura contained the same shades of elemental essence as everyone else. Then what made the taint’s color so unique?

How about the shadow essence? Why did it possess such a starkly distinct color as well? Was it just rare, and Skyle had yet to witness its presence, or was it truly unique, one of a kind? Did this mean that it was disconnected from energy sources in this world? If so, how was the shadow essence fueled? Where did it draw its power from? Was it some mysterious power within his blood?

Skyle grew nervous at this notion. He refused to believe that energy could simply spring forth from thin air. For instance, his Infinite Eye had revealed the process through which human bodies consumed food and converted it into flesh, blood and energy. Elemental powers drew upon the reservoirs of the world essence and the elemental spirits, channeling essence through an individual’s spirit veins. Even the taint seemed to sustain itself by consuming the elemental essence in his spirit veins.

Then what about the shadow essence? What did it eat?

“Wait, the Maw of the Void!”

Suddenly, Skyle recalled the first time he had awakened the Maw of the Void. He remembered the mysterious energy contained within each morsel of food. He could only watch it dissipating in vain, unable to draw from it. How had he finally been able to tap into this new type of energy? With his shadow essence! He could still recall how the shadow had hungrily sucked all the energy and absorbed it into his body.

At that moment, he had only watched in fascination as the energy greatly boosted the recovery of his strained muscles and injured flesh. Could there be an even deeper layer where the shadow essence actually fed itself upon this mysterious energy? If so, could shadow essence sustain itself from food? But he had only recently unlocked the Maw of the Void. Where had his original shadow essence come from?

Skyle immediately delved into his own body with the Infinite Sight, eager to find the answers to his questions. He was disappointed to find that his stomach was almost completely empty of food. Only then did he remember that he had barely had a few bites for breakfast, and it was now well past the time for lunch.

Springing to his feet, Skyle opened the door to his chambers and scurried toward the kitchen. The building was not so huge that he lost his way, but only barely so. In fact, there were an annoying number of rooms and corridors between his personal chambers and the dining room. Whoever had thought of such impractical room placement?

Upon finally reaching the kitchen’s swinging door, Skyle hesitated for just a moment before rapping his knuckles against the wooden surface. A loud voice replied from beyond the doorway.

“Is that you, Timmy? Hurry up with that flour, Mr. Jameson wants that pastry for the new masters ready within the hour.”

Skyle grinned sheepishly as he shuffled in, waving an awkward hand in the cook’s direction. She stood before a tall wooden counter, busily kneading a small clump of dough while singing a lively ditty to herself. The sight really warmed him, reminding Skyle of his mother as she baked his favorite buttermilk biscuits.

“Hello, Helga.” Skyle said.

Helga let out a strangled cry as she reeled back, her horrified eyes bulging out. The ball of dough flew up into the air and struck the ceiling with a wet splat. Helga herself kept backing away on nerveless legs until they finally gave way and the plump cook fell to the floor with a loud crash.

“Y-Young Master Skyle?” Helga croaked between trembling lips.

“Helga, are you alright?”

Skyle sprang forward and stretched out his hand, but Helga stared at it as though it were a viper, scurrying away from him until her back hit the opposite wall.

“P-Please, Young Master Skyle. I beg your forgiveness.” Helga gingerly picked herself off the floor and offered a deep curtsy.

Waving away the profuse apologies of the poor woman, Skyle did his best to set her at ease. He had barely begun when he heard a sharp hiss from behind his back.

Turning around, Skyle saw a pale-faced Jameson clutching at his chest as he bowed low before the boy. Behind him, an equally shaken Nessa curtsied deeply.

“Young Master Skyle, please accept our humblest apologies.”

“Eh? For what?”

“For neglecting our duties, of course. Whatever Helga has done to earn your displeasure, rest assured that it shall be corrected immediately.”

Skyle blinked a few times as he processed that.

“Wait, what? No, I’m not displeased at all. Why would you think that?”

Jameson finally lifted his gaze, confusion written across his face.

“The Young Master has deigned to grace the staff with his presence upon this lowly kitchen. Surely, something must have earned the Young Master’s displeasure?”

Skyle scratched his head with an apologetic smile. “I was just hungry and wondered if I might pilfer a few morsels of food, Mr. Jameson.”

Jameson immediately bowed his head low again. Poor old man, all this bowing must be working horrors on his aging back.

“Please, Young Master Skyle, it is not seemly to address this servant with a title. Also, I shall see to it that the summoning bell in your chambers is repaired at once. My deepest apologies for not spotting such a problem beforehand. I assure you, the bell was functioning correctly earlier this morning, when I personally tested it.”

Skyle’s cheeks flushed with color as he coughed in discomfort. “I’m sure the bell’s working just fine, Mr- ah, I mean, Jameson.”

Jameson straightened up from his bow with a woeful expression on his aged features. “Then this old servant must be growing senile, for I did not hear the Young Master’s bell. My humblest ap-”

Skyle promptly stepped forward and held Jameson by the shoulders, stopping the servant’s bowing motion.

“About that, I didn’t pull on the bell at all.”

Relief was quickly followed by bewilderment in Jameson’s face. Only an instant later, understanding eased away the many wrinkles in the old servant’s face.

“I see. The Young Master wished to inspect the household’s affairs. How industrious of the Young Master.”

Holding back the groan he could feel rising from the back of his throat, Skyle quickly shook his head.

“No, Jameson. I trust you and your staff to carry out your duties implicitly. I just wanted to come down here for some food.”

Jameson once again looked confounded by Skyle’s words.

“And the Young Master did not employ the bell for such a task?”

“Nope, I did not.”

Jameson shook his head slowly, his brow furrowed in deep turmoil. “Perhaps we have yet to earn the Young Master’s trust that we may serve his needs?

“No, that’s not it! I’m sure you all will do a wonderful job, and I’m grateful for it.” Skyle waved his hand vaguely in the air before him. “I just didn’t see a reason to call upon you.”

The old servant seemed to ponder on Skyle’s words as he followed the boy’s vigorous gestures. Finally, the light of realization dawned upon Jameson’s face. Only then did Skyle realize his hand was pointing straight at Nessa, who shuffled nervously on her feet and offered a bashful smile.

“I understand,” The old servant said. “Nessa must not be pleasing to the Young Master’s eyes. I shall have her replaced at once. Perhaps if the Young Master might offer some insight on his preferences?”

Nessa’s tremulous smile instantly crumpled, and a stricken expression flitted across her face before she composed herself.

Skyle’s heart lurched at the sight. “No, no! There’s nothing wrong with Nessa!”

“Please, Young Master, there’s no need to be so considerate of her feelings. Perhaps you find her bosom too small and sagging?”

“No, her breasts are bountiful and perky.”

“Then Nessa’s lips are too thin?”

“No, her lips are luscious and plump.”

“Surely, Nessa’s hips are too wide?”

“Her hips are very graceful.”

“The Young Master finds her legs too spindly?”

“Her legs are lithe and very shapely.”

“Then it must be that her derriere is too round and protrudes-”

“No, it’s bouncy and- Gah, I mean, enough!” Skyle cried out, cringing at where the conversation had led.

“As the Young Master commands,” Jameson murmured, though his eyes continued to rove about Nessa’s body, obviously continuing to look for the element that had produced such stark dislike from the Young Master.

“Really, Nessa’s a beautiful girl and I find every inch of her very pleasing to the eye and as attractive as it could be,” Skyle said, blowing out a breath and shaking his head. Only then did he realize what he was saying.

By now, poor Nessa’s cheeks had turned completely red. She seemed to wish nothing more than to crawl under a hole and die rather than continue to have her perky breasts, luscious lips, graceful hips, shapely legs and bouncy ass being ogled at by her perverted new Young Master.

“Oh. Then perhaps the Young Master wishes Nessa to serve to his personal needs in the bedchamber?”

At these sudden words, Nessa directed a trembling smile toward Skyle that must have taken every last reserve of courage in her body.

“I-If it pleases the Young Master,” she said, breathless and nearly inaudible.

“No no no no!” Skyle cried out, waving his hands frantically. “It does not please the Young.. Er, me. Please, don’t misunderstand.”

Jameson nodded sagely, as though his suspicions had been vindicated. “The Young Master does not find Nessa pleasing at all.”

“No, that’s not it at all!” Skyle cried out, then turned on his heel and stabbed a finger in Helga’s direction. “I was looking for her!”

Silence suddenly descended upon the room as shocked gazes followed Skyle’s gesture. Only after a moment did he realize his actions had once again been woefully misinterpreted.

Nessa’s face was a strange mixture of relief, disbelief, and disappointment as she first looked at Helga, then glanced down at her own lithe silhouette.

Helga herself was a picture of breathless horror as she swallowed dryly and reeled back from Skyle, hugging her apron to her chest as though to keep it as a barrier between Skyle and herself.

As for Jameson, the old servant was the very image of professional servility as he bobbed his head up and down.

“As the Young Master wishes.”

After all, the Young Master had expressed his preferences, and now his duties were finally clear.