‘That is the story you already know, with a little more detail. But there is a second half to it, one that is only known by the nobility and a few select others. You see, some years after I was discovered, there was a great meeting between the noble houses, the generals of Hominum and King Harold. The war was going poorly in its first year, the orc shamans were uniting under the albino orc’s banner and they outnumbered our own battlemages many times over. The nobles were loathe to put their firstborn sons and daughters in harm’s way, for with each heir’s death their bloodlines would come under threat. They were being forced to have several children, so that if the firstborn died, there might be a sibling with the ability to summon. After the firstborn, there is only a one in three chance of a noble child being an adept. Many noble houses will have three or four children in case of a death, so that the next adept can become the heir. On top of this, many young nobles are forced to marry and have children as soon as they graduate from the Vocans, so that if they die fighting they leave an heir to take their place.’
Fletcher had never given much thought to the idea of succession and noble bloodlines. He could imagine the noble families, desperately aware that with a single death, their entire house could disappear in one generation. For a moment he pitied Tarquin and Isadora, with all the pressures that their noble blood brought with it. But only for a moment.
‘Believe it or not, it was Obediah Forsyth – Tarquin’s grandfather – who was the noble who led the charge on introducing commoners into the ranks of battlemages, using his own money to fund the great Inquisition, bringing children in from across the land and looking for hints of mana in them. He was the most powerful and wealthiest noble at the time, and still is today. His son, Zacharias, married another firstborn from another great house, Josephine Queensouth, uniting their neighbouring lands under the Forsyth banner. This effectively dissolved the Queensouth house. Usually heirs will marry a second-or third-born from another noble house so as to keep their legacy, but the Queensouths were near bankruptcy and were close to selling off their land. It was the only solution for them at the time. I explain this to you, Fletcher, because nobility, marriage and succession are key to understanding who you are.’
Fletcher nodded sagely, trying to keep track of it all. The political machinations of the nobility were interesting, but he still did not understand what it had to do with him, or Arcturus for that matter.
‘In any case, Obediah’s search bore fruit and commoners were introduced to Vocans, myself included. The old King’s Inquisitors took over the search, but they noticed a curious trend, one that Obediah had missed. There were strange clusters of adepts, most noticeably in the orphanages in the northern cities. Now why do you think that is, Fletcher?’ Arcturus asked him, the milky orb of his eye staring unseeingly through Fletcher’s head.
But Fletcher’s mind was blank. What was so special about orphans?
‘What differentiates the orphans from everyone else?’ Arcturus asked, parroting Fletcher’s thoughts.
‘Nobody wants them?’ Fletcher suggested.
‘That’s right, Fletcher. Now who usually don’t want their children?’ Arcturus murmured, talking him through it.
‘People who can’t afford to keep them.’ Fletcher’s memory flitted to the long, lonely nights where he had wondered about that very thing.
‘True, Fletcher, there are some who abandon their children for that reason. There are also orphans whose parents have died. But there is another group who abandon their children regularly. The Inquisition found this was the one commonality between almost all the orphaned adepts.’
Arcturus took a deep breath. ‘Almost all of their mothers were courtesans. Including mine.’
Sacharissa whined, and Arcturus hushed her gently. Fletcher could see that he was touching upon something that caused him great pain.
‘You see, Lord Faversham was . . . shall we say . . . an insatiable man. His wife could not bear him children for a long time. Lady Faversham eventually grew cold and distant, turning him away from her bed. So he sought the beds of those who would not.’
Fletcher sunk into his chair, finally understanding.
‘So the firstborn children of the courtesans he slept with became adepts? Is that how it works?’ Fletcher asked, trying not to think about what it might mean about his own heritage.
‘Yes, although he had mistresses as well. A man can have adept children with several different women, as long as it is the woman’s first child too. So too can a woman have several adept children with different fathers, if the men are yet to father a child. It was pure coincidence that a small number of commoners were also being born with the gift. I set the search in motion, but I was not born with the gift independently, like other commoners are. I was an adept because I was one of Lord Faversham’s firstborn sons.’
Fletcher’s mind raced, thinking of the circumstances of his abandonment. Not even a blanket to protect him from the cold. It seemed a fitting explanation. Arcturus interrupted his moody thoughts.