《So I Guess I'm a Blood Mage》 Prologue 1 ¡°Son, I haven¡¯t told you about how our world came to be yet, have I?¡± A young man, no older than twenty, sat in a rocking chair holding a bundle of blankets. Surrounding him was what one would expect in a nursery in the 1600¡¯s. Crib and a bassinet, as well as both wooden and cotton toys. Sporting a clean-shaven face, with blue eyes and short blond hair to boot, he softly spoke to the newborn swaddled in the bundle. ¡°In the beginning, there was nothing but a clock. The clock would tick and a moment would pass. Then it would repeat. This would happen unceasingly for millennia. ¡°This was not a static ticking, however. As each tick passed, the next would come faster. Given the unceasing nature of this clock, it was inevitable that the ticks would overlap. And one day, they did. That day, son, is referred to as The Day of Birth. ¡°And at The Day of Birth, when one moment equaled the next, an anomaly happened. Rather than the collapse of time itself, everything restarted. But there was no longer just a clock. Now, there were deities as well. 12 of them, each a representative of one of the hours found on the clock. These deities, though they were not created by the clock itself, knew that under time their power meant nothing. Time would always tick away, uncaringly and unceasingly, as it always had.¡± Arms getting tired, the young man shifted the baby into a different, more comfortable position. After taking a drink from the mug by his side, he continued. ¡°These deities were different from time. They could not stand to act as the clock did and simply exist alongside time. They needed to justify their reason for existence. For a while the clock was the whole of time, they were each merely one-twelfth of it. ¡°Their restlessness began the Age of Celebration. It was an age where each of the twelve competed to determine who was the truest representation of time itself. Yet they never expected how they would balance one another out. ¡°See, son, each deity embodies the purest form of a power. At the 12 o¡¯clock position lie Nostrum, the Psychic. He embodied true mental prowess, having as stable a mind as an ability to affect the thoughts of another. Yet, for all his mental prowess, he possessed a frail body. Opposite of Nostrum, where the 6 would be, lay Hemus of the Blood. While his control of blood arts gave him immense physical prowess, his mental faculties left much to be desired. He was a being driven almost purely by instinct. When the Age of Celebration ended, they each had won half of their competitions. ¡°The same applied to Illuma of the Light and Lailah, the Dark. While each was the truest and most powerful representation of light and dark in all the land, they couldn¡¯t help but draw. For darkness will always exist wherever light shines and conversely, without light darkness ceases to exist.¡± Again, the young man adjusted the bundle in his arms. But when he reached to take another swig from his mug, he realized it was drained. With a quick glance at the clock, he noticed that it was getting to be late. Smiling, he gave the baby in his arms a tickle and a quick kiss on the forehead. ¡°My little prince, you should¡¯ve told me it was so late! Bah, and I was just getting into it too. I didn¡¯t even get to describe the competitions they had and how they eventually - whoops, wouldn¡¯t want to spoil it for you now, would I? Well, regardless, it is about time I put you to sleep. I can already see your little eyelids struggling to stay awake.¡± The young man stood and walked a couple steps from the rocking chair to place the baby in its silk-lined, velvet covered bassinet. ¡°Only the best for my little prince, of course. I won¡¯t have you wanting for a thing.¡± After setting the baby down and tucking it in, and with one final kiss to the forehead, he walked to the room¡¯s door. Right before opening it, his face instantly took on a hardened visage. Closing the door softly behind him, he completely ignored the two armor-clad guards stationed there and made his way down the hallway. On his left were portraits of his ancestors. They were clad in a multitude of colors, all but one based on their elemental affinity. For regardless of the magic they commanded and the Deity they fell under the purview of, every member of the Fisk bloodline would don the purple of royalty. On his right were the many evolutions of the Fisk coat of arms. Generations ago, when they were first given land, it was a simple family crest that displayed a hoe superimposed over a fish. As the line distinguished itself, through political dealings, military accomplishments, and arranged marriages, it eventually matured into a full-fledged coat of arms. In the center was a gallant purple shield, and it was flanked by a fictional fishman guard to the left and a cannon to the right. Each quadrant represented the qualities the Fisk family had eventually come to be known by. In the top left was a dragon head representing valor. In the top right, an oak tree representing the longevity and strength of the line. The bottom left contained no image, but consisted of a checkered pattern of purple and, in this most recent incarnation, black. This would change as a new family head was named, and represented his source of power. The bottom right was the deific emblem of Lailah, the Dark, the right side of a nose with a closed eye. Atop the entire image was a golden crown embossed with 13 gems. Two each of red, green, yellow, and blue. One each of white, silver, black, and crimson. And a final one that stood above all the others, one of purple. Because for those of the Fisk bloodline, the bloodline reigned supreme over all other ties.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The young man and his hard face walked past these without even a cursory glance. A more detailed investigation would uncover that both the portraits and the coats of arms were newly placed and possessed slight blemishes around the edges. Reaching the end of the hallway, the young man opened the final door. Inside was a woman around the same age as the young man, but she was gagged and bound by her arms and legs to what looked to be an operating table. The bindings glowed dark silver, seemingly taking on the abilities of darkness and psychic at the same time. The moment the young man opened the door, the young woman¡¯s face took on a look of pure horror, and she began shaking uncontrollably. The young man¡¯s face remained impassive. ¡°Darling, darling, darling. What have I ever done in this world besides love you? I gave you everything you could ever want. When we were children, I didn¡¯t let the other kids bully you. When we were going through seminary, I aided you in lessons. After graduation, I took you as my wife. I agree it was a rough start, but I truly believed that that hardship only made us stronger. Tabitha, I killed senselessly for you, because that is how much I love you. Now, I sit here as the King. And you, well¡­ you could have been my queen. But even that wasn¡¯t good enough for you.¡± The more he spoke, the harsher the young man¡¯s face grew. But at the end, the hatred that laced his features disappeared. All that was left was a look of disappointment and, if one looked closely enough, a hint of pain. He motioned with his arm and a trap door opened. Out emerged a figure cloaked in black dragging a badly beaten man no more than five years older than the two up. ¡°Inform your Queen how her plan faired, filth.¡± Immediately tears began falling from the man¡¯s eyes. ¡°Tabby I-¡± The young man immediately backhanded the man. ¡°How DARE you refer to your Queen by her nickname. To have the gall to even think you are worthy.¡± He turned to the woman on the bed. ¡°This is the type of person you employ then, Tabitha? Someone rendered insensible in the ways of things after a little seduction? Pathetic. Filth, tell her. My patience wears thin.¡± The man spit out a globule of blood mixed with tears before speaking once again. ¡°My Queen, I snuck in through the route you outlined, but the moment I entered the hallway to the King¡¯s room my entire body seized up. I know you said to be mindful of his command over darkness, but I was not good enough. I have failed you.¡± ¡°This, my Queen, is what happens when you scheme against the only person that has supported you your entire life.¡± The room suddenly darkened as the young man¡¯s aura increased exponentially. It rose and rose until it reached a peak, then, it suddenly vanished. With not a single sound or movement from the young man, the beaten and bruised figure slumped over. Dead. ¡°Yet another piece of filth who has to pay for your follies. But I will not allow it anymore. My love for you can only go so far. And while getting rid of you now and blaming it on the birth of our child would save me many headaches down the line, your light attunement is far too valuable for you to be a simple corpse. Reginald!¡± The black cloaked figure appeared once more. ¡°Yes, my liege.¡± ¡°You will imprint a geas upon her. No longer shall she have these compulsions to turn against me. No longer shall she covet that which is not hers. No longer will she search for pleasure outside of that which her family can give. Also, make it so that whenever she feels these urges, it will redirect into a general worry for our son. No, our children. Ronald shall be but one of many.¡± The black cloaked figure moved closer, but before could begin the young man stopped him. ¡°Wait, I want to hear her last words as herself. Even now, for all she¡¯s done, I can¡¯t help but love her. Remove her gag.¡± The moment the gag was removed, Tabitha began spewing words. ¡°Wait, Ronald, we can talk about this! You know I love you! I would never send someone to kill you that could actually succeed at it! Please, Ronald! Those we have affairs with must be killed! This isn¡¯t new! I don¡¯t need a geas! I can be better! Please, Ronald, I can behave myself! I love you, Ronald, more than anything! Please don¡¯t do this! Please!¡± ¡°ENOUGH!¡± Tabitha immediately cowed to Ronald''s outburst, ¡°How dare you say we! Since the moment I grew old enough to see you as a woman I¡¯ve never, not even for a second, thought about another. I¡¯ve given you plenty of chances to be better. To develop even a modicum of empathy. To stop these petty schemes and pleasure-seeking follies. But you won¡¯t listen. And now that I am King, I cannot allow it from my Queen. I am Ronald Leviathan Fisk IV and by my blood, I would sooner strike at my own stomach before facing the kinds of disgrace you wish upon me. ¡°Regardless, you will not remember this, so I shall cease speaking. Reginald, take care of this. Send her to our room once the geas has stabilized. And take your time. I need her mind to work just as well as ever. My Queen will be more than a beautiful face at my side.¡± The young man, King Ronald Fisk IV, left the room amid the screams of his wife and the mother of his child. While she would never entirely be Tabitha again, Ronald comforted himself with the knowledge that she would be a better person after this. And while repeated geas applications damaged the mind of those it was applied to, her light attunement would ensure that she would be very old before the effects would show. Besides, there were more pressing matters to attend to. The kingdom, for one, but the planning for his son¡¯s first day of celebration, which was still months away, would need to be handled ahead of time. There were only twelve, after all. --- Unbeknownst to the entire castle, the newborn was awake the whole time. Not only was he actively listening to the story his father was telling him, but he was profoundly thinking the entire time. ¡°It really isn¡¯t fair that this is a completely new language. That was probably some useful exposition. Oh well, as long as I pay attention, I should be able to pick up the language pretty quickly.¡± The moment his father left, he got to work on freeing his limbs from the tightly wrapped blankets. While it took some time, he eventually got free from the swaddling. The baby immediately began wiggling its arms and legs as if it were a cockroach laying on its back. ¡°Unwieldy, but definitely on par with those novels I read before. While I¡¯ve got to make sure I don¡¯t overwork and end up hurting myself, I can definitely make sure I grow to be flexible and strong if I do some basic bodyweight from a very young age. Oh! Also, I can...¡± Yes, this newborn had the thoughts of a grown human. Yes, this newborn is a reincarnated person. And finally, yes, the main character of this tale is reincarnated baby Ronald and not King Ronald Leviathan Fisk IV. Prologue 2 Darnell Johnson sent off the last of his emails for the day and promptly shut his computer. As he released a huge sigh, he contemplated how he ended up becoming another cog in the capitalist machine. Growing up with a single mother and three siblings and moving from bad neighborhood to worse neighborhood almost yearly had quickly colored the way he viewed the world. Darnell wanted to tear it all down and create something new and beautiful in its place so that no one else would have to go through what he did. For a time, Darnell was a die-hard activist. His athletic skill opened up the ivy league option for him, and he spent his college years engaged politically despite his position on the football team. After graduating, he spent some time campaigning for candidates he believed in and even attempted to run in his hometown. It was then that reality truly hit him. To be anyone, you needed money or power, and money would easily trump power if the amount were similar. Despite his grassroots, clean campaign, the incumbent outraised him by twenty times, and he had no choice but to concede early on. Eventually, Darnell abandoned his activism, contacted some old college connections, and quickly landed a job in pharmaceutical sales. His charisma propelled his rise through the company, and in a mere five years, he went from making ninety percent of his salary from commissions to being named the Vice President of Sales. The youngest ever, as well as the first ever black person, male or female. Shaking out of his reminiscing, Darnell finished gathering his things and started to head out for the day. Exiting his office led to the cubicle jungle that made up the main floor. The floor was abuzz with the sounds of sales and marketing representatives proposing and closing deals left and right. For him now, 4:00 was the end of the day, but it wasn¡¯t too long ago that he would have to grind away the midnight oil to ensure he could pay his rent. With an empathetic smile, he set a brisk pace to the elevators to avoid any boring conversations. While most people in the company were great conversationalists, it was Tuesday. Anynews from the weekend was talked about on Monday, and the week hadn¡¯t gone long enough since then for anything interesting to have happened. Unfortunately, the world ignored his wishes as a young twenty-something woman approached him as he passed the break room, mere yards away from the elevator.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Darnell! Wait! I know you¡¯re heading out but Chuck wants me to finish this spreadsheet by today and, while I did, I wanted an extra set of eyes to make sure it was just the way he wanted it!¡± Seeing him thinking of a way respectfully declining, she continued, ¡°You know how Chuck is! It¡¯s always, ¡®This line¡¯s logic isn¡¯t sound enough¡¯ or ¡®You should make the pivot table like this instead of like that.¡¯ Other than you, it¡¯s impossible to do it right when dealing with Chuck!¡± Darnell audibly groaned. Chuck was the Vice President of Marketing and was notorious for having a bad case of obsessive-compulsive disorder. Before Darnell was promoted to VP of Sales, he was known as ¡°The Chuck Whisperer.¡± Whenever Chuck needed something done, Darnell would be roped into completing it. Darnell never understood why it was so difficult for people to do what Chuck asked, but maybe that was just years of coaching conditioning kicking in. ¡°You¡¯re right, you¡¯re right. Since it¡¯s Chuck you need help with, and only because it is Chuck, I¡¯ll look it over. Is it up on your computer now?¡± ¡°Yes! Thank you so much, Darnell! You are an absolute lifesaver!¡± ¡°Yeah yeah. You owe me dinner though, especially since I¡¯m probably going to get caught in traffic now.¡± ¡°Only dinner huh? Lower price than usual, but if that¡¯s what you want sure.¡± With a wink, Sarah turned towards her desk and walked off. As the two headed to Sarah¡¯s desk, Sarah quickly got back into business mode and rehashed the task she was given and just how annoying it was to deal with Chuck. Darnell simply nodded in agreement, unwilling to engage in a work conversation he¡¯d had with almost everyone in the office at some point. ¡°Alright, here it is,¡± Sarah happily stated as she gestured toward her desktop. Darnell placed an arm down on the desk then, with his other arm, reached down to grab the mouse. As he did this, something inconceivable happened. His hand which had been bracing him on the desk slipped off. Since his entire upper body weight was on that arm, he fell flat on his face. But that wasn''t all. When his face hit the keyboard, his body, as unbalanced as it was, rolled off the desk. While he was a fit young man in college, that was almost two full decades ago, and while he wasn¡¯t obese, he did sport a little bit more than a beer belly. Darnell¡¯s body did a total 180 as it continued falling, and the back of his head hit the edge of the table¡¯s leg. Due to the fragility of the human body, Darnell went braindead on impact. Right before everything went dark, one final thought passed through Darnell¡¯s mind. ¡®If Sarah would have turned to get help rather than try to catch me, I would have gotten one last look at her-¡¯ Prologue 3 Humans have speculated since the dawn of time about what happens to the soul once the body perishes. As a self-proclaimed Christian, one that only went to service on Easter, Darnell fully expected that when he finally died, he would ascend either to walk through the gates of heaven or to be condemned to the fires of hell. But neither of those happened. Darnell¡¯s body had long passed, but his soul was stuck in a void. No light, no dark. No sound, but also no silence. Yet in this state of complete void, Darnell¡¯s soul was active. While he couldn¡¯t speak, he could still form thoughts and ideas. Without the ability to perceive his surroundings, he could do naught but pull in to himself. ¡®This is not at all what I expected death to be like. Well, at least this seems like death. I distinctly remember the look on Sarah¡¯s face right before my head hit that table leg. But damn, this has got to be the dumbest way anyone has ever died. From helping out a coworker to smacking my head on the smallest of edges. ¡®I wonder what is next. Moms used to always tell us that if we lived good lives, we would go to heaven, and as far as I know, I lived a pretty damn good life. Volunteering, giving back to my community, I went the full nine yards. So why am I stuck in this state of nothingness? Is this what death is? An eternity to myself? Or maybe I¡¯m not dead yet? Could they be keeping me alive on life support? No, definitely not that. I very clearly told my doctor to save my family that trouble.¡¯ Darnell¡¯s thoughts continued along these lines. Questioning who he was, where he was, and what would happen next. As time went on, there became less and less to reflect on. One can only go over one¡¯s life journey and their perceived impact on the world so many times before they start to go crazy. At the moment that Darnell exhausted his introspective actions, the state he was in changed. No longer was he in the void, but instead he was seated in what seemed to be a library study room. Surrounding him were ceiling-high, solid, wooden bookshelves. Each shelf was double stacked with a variety of spines, some that contained words in a vaguely recognizable language, and others with runes vaguer than he remembered hieroglyphs looked. Scanning further, Darnell found that there was no door in or out of this space. Naturally bookshelves, books, the chair he was sitting at, and a study desk in front of him. Save the books themselves, everything seemed to be made out of the same wood. ¡°Hello! Is anyone there?¡± Testing his voice and finding it worked, Darnell decided to reach out. There was no way this was heaven, and he hoped it wasn¡¯t hell. Because if this was hell, a hell that, rather than being a never-ending inferno, was a place where you were condemned to study for eternity would rank in the worst possible hells there were. Darnell imperceptibly shuddered as he remembered finals week. ¡°Can someone let me know what¡¯s going on? Please tell me I¡¯m not in hell.¡± ¡°Hell? Of course not. You mortals and your ideas of the afterlife always amuse me.¡± Out of nowhere, a voice filled the space. It was of the wizened sort. In Darnell¡¯s mind, definitely knowledgeable, but there was a hint that the person speaking was probably a little kooky.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Kooky? I haven¡¯t heard a mortal refer to me as kooky in¡­ well, ever. You always have been quite the interesting one haven¡¯t you Darnell.¡± ¡°Y-y-you can read my mind? How is that even possible! Wait, where even am I? And where are you?¡± A hum of beating drums began, as raw power began to coalesce on top of the desk. As it built up, Darnell felt as though he could be sundered into nothingness at any point. It eventually peaked, just as the beating drums reached the crescendo, and then there was silence. Blinking away the unsettled feeling, Darnell looked on the desk to see a six-inch old wizard. Dressed in full robes and a textbook wizard hat, and sporting a beard that was no doubt longer than he was tall, the wizard stood in a flourish. ¡°Greetings, young Darnell. I have many names across the cosmos, but you may call me The Wise One. I am here to ferry you, just as I have ferried many others, along to your next life.¡± Darnell¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡®This six-inch figure was God? How could that even be possible?¡¯ ¡°Darnell, as a soul your thoughts are projected into the world. Whether you speak it or think it when you are inside my library everything is public. I chose to appear as six-inches. And I am not God, per se. As I said, I am The Wise One. God is Everything. I am but a mere piece of that whole. My job is to ferry people into their next life. If I were any figure you would know of, it would be similar to that of Charon, if, of course, you were to assume that Charon was but one piece of Zeus. Or maybe Gaia. Well, no one really knows how Greek mythology works, do they? Haha! That said, we really must move on. Here¡¯s a set of dice, feel free to roll them however you please.¡± The self-absorbed way The Wise One spoke left Darnell unable to get a word in. Having the set of dice thrust at him so abruptly, he decided to just roll them all at once. He agreed with The Wise One, the sooner they finished whatever he was here for, the better. ¡°All at once. Bold. Yes, that does fit your profile. Let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got then hm?¡± The Wise One picked up one of the twelve-sided dies that had landed on a 6. ¡°Amazing choice, really. Fate smiles on you kindly, young one. And to get a four on this d4! Not super helpful but I have seen worse.¡± The Wise One continued to finger through the dice, making comments on each roll, both positive and negative. The comments were never indicative of what the roll actually meant, however. The Wise One quickly finished up and immediately pointed his index finger directly at Darnell. ¡°You have rolled the dice of fate, and now shall start yet another new life. You have failed to roll to retain the memory of the library. You have succeeded in rolling for one boon to carry into your new life. The boon you are awarded is the memories and cognitive functions from your past life. Not many people are able to remember their past lives, and fewer still are able to leverage it to their advantage. I wish you the best in your next life, Soul #f58bgy3n. Continue to defy the odds as you have for millennia.¡± As The Wise One spoke, Darnell¡¯s ability to perceive began to wane. Soon, there was nothing but blackness. There was a stint where everything he was took a second to reboot, and in that time his soul was scrubbed of any knowledge of the Library. While his mind was still active, Darnell was rendered immobile. Eventually, there was a slight hint of warmth. While moving was still incredibly difficult, as time passed Darnell began to regain his ability for brief, sharp movements. Such as a kick or a punch. Yet there was still the blackness. Of course, Darnell knew what was going on. He did, after all, retain all his memories of his past life. All there was to do was wait until- And then it came. The pressure associated with a mother giving birth. A New Life 1 Even after the successful birth, the room was abuzz with people running around attending to their post delivery tasks. Tabitha, though exhausted, smiled as she nuzzled against her newborn baby boy. Seated in a chair to the immediate right of the bed and holding a very similar smile, was King Ronald. For the two of them, having a child that took characteristics from them both was even more joyous than just having a child. Despite the assurances given by Foyund, the royal healer, during the pregnancy, there was always the horrible thought between the two of them that this child would not be the legitimate heir to the throne. Alas, the time for thinking of such an unfortunate occurrence had passed, and now they could focus on grooming their newborn as a prince should be. As the two parents shared similar thoughts, Foyund approached the bed and bowed with a flourish. ¡°My Liege. My Queen. The royal nursery has been prepared. Whenever you are ready, we can change locations.¡± The two gave one another a glance before nodding at Foyund. Rising from his bow, Foyund placed a hand on Queen Tabitha¡¯s shoulder. A Crimson haze began to surround the two of them. ¡°Sixth, empower me. Restore!¡± As he spoke these four words, Tabitha¡¯s exhausted appearance began to drain away. Rather than the haggard but tranquil look of a woman after her pregnancy, she looked hale and hearty once more. The spell worked its magic, and once the crimson glow faded, she stood up from the bed while holding young Ronald. ¡°Let us go.¡± --- Darnell, the champion for gender equality and women¡¯s rights he was in his previous life, was beginning to rethink everything he knew. In no way did he wish to diminish the struggle that was giving birth, but being conscious of his birth was a horrible, horrible experience. Not only did he now understand why babies emerged from their mothers crying and screaming, but he also was convinced that there was nothing more disappointing than having to leave the perfectly temperature controlled and entirely comfortable environment that was the womb. In his knowledge of his past life, he was never as comfortable as he was in the womb Darnell fully expected that he never would be that comfortable again. Other than the birth itself, though, almost everything else was exactly what he had prepared himself for. The spanking. The cleaning. The swaddling. Even the cuddling. He had been there when his younger sister had her first and was accustomed to how things worked. There were a couple of things he hadn¡¯t expected, however. For one, he didn¡¯t expect not being able to see a thing. Opening his eyes was almost impossible, and the one time that he managed to crack his eyelids open, he immediately closed it back out of pain. Not only was his body weak down to his eyelids, but he had a pair of eyes loaded with receptors that had never seen a single photon. While unexpected, it made complete sense. He also didn¡¯t expect to have crystal clear hearing. While he couldn¡¯t understand a word anyone was saying, he already noticed that there seemed to be two distinct languages. The most frequently spoken language reminded him of German, due to how guttural it sounded. The other sounded terribly similar to French, due to a few nasally inflections. Of course, Darnell never studied linguistics nor did he find discovering new languages something particularly interesting, so he was more than likely wrong in both assumptions. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. There was something special about the French-sounding language. When Darnell heard it being spoken, the atmosphere seemed to change. He began to smell a slight hint of blood. Despite his closed eyes, he began perceiving a slight haze of crimson. He also felt his heart start pumping almost imperceptibly faster. While the feeling began once he heard this language, it lasted a few seconds after he finished speaking before slowly ebbing away. ¡®I really hope that killing intent isn¡¯t a thing in this world, because if it is, and that was it, I may not make it a week in this world.¡¯ Experiencing this intent as well as having already cried himself to exhaustion drained his baby body of all energy, and he promptly fell asleep. --- ¡°Ronald look, he¡¯s finally fallen asleep. Your heir sure is a strong boy isn¡¯t he?¡± The couple, accompanied now by Foyund and a fourth person, were walking away from Foyund¡¯s house and across a lush garden. Filled with herbs and flora of many shapes and sizes, this garden of regents was the prized possession of every royal healer. Not only because they could create salves and potions from it, but also because if anything untoward happened to the garden, they would surely be tried with treason. ¡°He¡¯s my heir. Of course he¡¯s strong.¡± A brief look of hesitation flashed on Tabitha¡¯s face as she knew what went unspoken. If it weren¡¯t his heir, the baby would never have lasted long enough to have its strength determined. Deciding to stop while she was still on Ronald¡¯s good graces, she went back to cooing at the sleeping baby. ¡°My little Ronald, I can¡¯t wait until you¡¯re all grown up. I¡¯ll take you on adventures and show you off to all of our subjects and oh! I will find you some friends and a nice wife and your life will be absolutely perfect! Your father and I will get you some younger siblings so you¡¯ll never be lonely and I am positive they will idolize you. My crown prince, I can¡¯t wait for your Celebrations to come. But I am getting ahead of myself, first comes your Day of Birth Ceremony. Oh, darling, I love you so so so so much already, and I know I will love you, even more, when you start running around and creating mischief. My darling Ronald.¡± Tabitha couldn¡¯t help herself. Having been restored to full health by Foyund and still bursting in the afterglow of birth, she nestled in close and spoke sweet nothings to her sleeping child. Ronald, as he walked beside them, smiled as he imagined how great of a man his son would be. Not only did he name baby Ronald after himself, but for the middle name of the child, he bestowed the first name of the most significant member of the Fisk bloodline: Adiman Ravana Fisk. Known as the greatest military commander of the Fisk bloodline, and the one who¡¯s military achievements took the Fisk line from Baron to Count. Though custom for those of the Fisk line to choose the name of a mythological creature for one¡¯s middle name, such as the Leviathan or the Phoenix, to Ronald there was no greater mythological figure than Adiman Ravana Fisk, and his firstborn would surely inherit that belief. The couple, musing on the future of their firstborn, slowly made their way into the castle proper and the nursery. Standing in wait was a collection of maids and wetnurses who would do most of the raising of young Ronald as the King and Queen attended to their daily duties.