Seven’s senses returned to him as his eyes shot opened bloodshot, tears running from them as he grabbed at his shoulder with an audible sigh of relief. He found some kind of blanket to be covering over him, pulling it together he would find it to be a short cape of sorts. Throwing it over his shoulders, he found that it fit perfectly.

It must be a present!, he thought as a smile stretched across his face, fading all of the negativity that filled his mind a moment previous. He stood and found a leather-bound grimoire on the desk along with an ink jar, a quill and a note, all not previously there. Reading the note proved to teach Seven that his father had, in fact, not forgotten his birthday as these were all gifts.

Congratulations are in order for your reaching of ten, my heir. Take these and record the history of your becoming. One day you shall impose a sense of respect for knowledge in this world. I’m counting on you!

Seven hugged the book close to his chest before setting it down, flipping it open and readying the pen for work. I won’t let you down, father. And with those thoughts, the child began recording his first entry.

An hour of time passed. Seven sat upon his father’s chair, scribing away on parchment, careful not to tear the pages or make a mistake. There were stacks of books that he had pulled out to study different pieces of knowledge that had been stored away since before his birth.

The creek of rusted metal alerted Seven’s attention to the door’s motion that followed, swinging open to reveal his older brother, Three, in his typical robed outfit. The child grew a face that told a story of annoyance. This had better be good.

“What is it today, little lord?”, Three beckoned in a condescending tone. “More monsters?”, he snickered. Three and his sibling had never seen eye to eye, but Seven thought perhaps today he would be able to avoid the needless conflicts of everyday life.

“If it was, I’d have asked you to model.” Seven snapped smartly. Three’s disapproval of Seven’s comment was told through his following steps, he reached from in front of Seven to the corner of the page he was working on and gripped it. Sinister energy filled the room before Seven quickly took hold of the page in one hand and Three’s hand in the other. With a glance, Seven begged his brother to spare him.

A single motion ended the bond between the page and the book, the resonating sound of the tear stabbing through Seven’s chest and filling the child with a fearful passion. “Cut it out!” he whined desperately, praying he could lessen the impending doom. His cries resulted in no avail as Three crushed the page in his fist and tossed it to the nearby fire.

Seven watched as the flames consumed his work, his gift. Tears rolled down his cheeks before he slammed his closed fist on the desk, dreaming it were a nail at the center of Three’s forehead. Three looked over the child with no remorse before making his way to the open door. “Father wanted you, brat.”, he unhappily remarked before exiting the room and closing the door behind him.