Makings of a Monster

Sarevok was wrapped up in a fuzzy, clean towel. It was yellow and had pictures of little ducklings on it. He had a fleeting suspicion that the sight of him wrapped in the thing, his cheeks red and hair tousled, would damage his credibility in front of his old gang. Sarri at any rate would laugh and taunt him. But as no one was looking, he enjoyed the soft material and clean aroma. There was a knock on the door. Winski.

- "Morning, Sarevok. Seems that Jelena has given you some clean clothes. Did you get breakfast?"
Sarevok nodded, his eyes shining. Eggs, tea, warm rolls, fruit... the memory of the flavours still made him somewhat ecstatic.
- "Then it is time to go meet your father. Get dressed and we go."

Reiltar greeted his newly adopted son with no apparent warmth.
- "You look much better now. I trust you have been shown your room and given some decent clothing. If you have any needs, you ask Jelena, or Winski. You'll accompany him most of the time now, as he will be your tutor. You'll also rehearse some military skills with a captain from the Throne's mercenary forces. And after you have shown some progress with your basic studies, I may teach you something about trade. Though no doubt your usefulness will mostly focus on the... operational side of our endeavours."
Sarevok didn't understand but nodded anyway. The military skills sounded like fun, and maybe the education too. Winski had so far been nicer to him than father. Perhaps that was as it was supposed to be.
- "I want only hear good things from you. This is a well-ordered and peaceful household I'm running, and I won't tolerate disruptions, " Reiltar went on sternly.
- "Mr. Anchev, so far he has behaved fine, " said Winski.
Behaved? He only had slept, washed himself and eaten some breakfast.
- "I'm sure. Just want to make sure that there's no misunderstanding of the rules."
- "Naturally."

Sarevok and Winski left the room, and Sarevok wore a puzzled expression.
- "Mr. Winski?"
- "Yes? You can call me Winski. Your father does, and what would be wrong with that."
- "What rules did father mean? Seems to me that he just said that I shouldn't break them, but not what they are."
- "Well. The rules can pretty much be summed up as "Do not anger Reiltar". The reason he went on with that for so long is that he wants you to know he has the power. He quite enjoys his power. So don't let him think otherwise."
Sarevok nodded. This was something he could understand. Power meant you were left alone, you ate and slept well, and no-one bullied you. He didn't like being in the receiving end of it, though. But in time it would be he who wielded the power.

Winski led him to his laboratory. There were alchemist tools, potion bottles, lots of dusty books and a desk.
- "We will study here. I have a few rules of my own. Do not touch any of the equipment, and especially not the potions. And if you look at the books, put them back where you took them. I have an elaborate cataloguing system and I don't want that messed up."
- "I don't even know how to read," reminded Sarevok in a slightly reserved tone.
- "We'll fix that soon enough. But first I want to know some things of you, to gather where we should start and so. Rest on that couch, comfortably, and relax. Be honest and don't think too much, just tell me what comes to your mind."
That sounded unnerving. As far as Sarevok knew people were always taking advantage or others, and it was best not to let them. However, Winski's insistent yellow eyes made him feel a little unreal and drowsy. The couch was very comfortable. It was as if he was drifting among clouds.

- "Have you ever killed a person?"
Winski looked at him intently, his face revealing nothing. Just interest, no hints of what he would think of the answer.
- "What if I had?" Sarevok was anxious.
- "No, no... you were already relaxed so well. Don't worry. Just tell me."
- "Well, yes. I have killed. And... I liked it. I mean, not after I had done it. But at the moment, it felt wonderful." Suddenly Sarevok felt that he wanted to talk about it. He had been carrying those terrifying memories with him so long. It was as if telling them aloud would somehow diminish the weight of them. And so he blathered on, pouring out it all, complete with the presence, the frightening dreams and the underground river flowing. Part of him was wondering how he could be so foolish. But Winski's presence made his will weaker. And it felt as if the man could truly understand what he was talking about.

- "This is excellent. More excellent than I had anticipated." Surprised, Sarevok looked up and saw acceptance and encouragement on Winski's face.
- "I would have expected that I'd have to uneducate you off some asinine moral code designed to flatten mundane people into obedience and special ones from reaching their true potential. But it seems that your mind truly is pure from such influences. A true orphan, a true survivor. "
Sarevok had no idea what he was talking about, but he did understand that Winski was pleased with him. Because he had killed someone? And enjoyed it? It seemed strange to him, but he was happy about it all the same. He felt a flash of pride.
- "Don't worry, little one. You'll understand it all soon enough. I was merely musing on philosophical education. I think you feel a bit drained after telling me this. We'll have a word about the value of the written word tomorrow."

Later Sarevok sat in the kitchen with Jelena. He had just finished the dinner, and the two of them sat sipping tea, Jelena's face glowing with warmth and yet so sad. She held Sarevok's hand and looked deep into his eyes with her own sky-blue, gentle and sorrowful ones.
- "Sarevok, I have wanted a child for so long. It is as if there was this big love inside me, just waiting for a child. And then... so many years, carrying that love with no-one to give it," she told.
- "Is that why there are toys and stuff in m...my room? It was also ready for a child?"
- "Yes. And now, the gods led you to me. I'm a lucky woman after all, even though I didn't always believe that."
Love? Was it love that made her look at him like that? If it was, then love was probably a good thing. Sarevok felt strange, sad and sweet at the same time. But how puzzling it was. He didn't want Jelena to know he had killed, and enjoyed it, much less about the strange murderous presence. He had a feeling she would feel less love for him. But on the other hand, Winski was proud and pleased with the very same things. And he was happy to please Winski. So which one of them was right?