[Memoirs of Sir Adrik Dolorem]

[I believe Solis blessed me more than other servants of the lord, for I was chosen to be the aide of the bard. But, truly, the greatest joy of my life was to teach him the martial way. I will never forget the day His Holiness called me to his chambers and awarded me the medal of merit.

Elemental Magic, magic theory, hand, and leg movement. He mastered it all as if he was made to learn it. He seems—made to be the favored one.

I wake up every morning feeling calm and delighted, thinking about something new to teach Master Maximillian. He's like a sponge, soaking in everything I try to teach. And now he's about to start the next phase of his life.

After these years of amateur training, his formal education at the School of Dawn will carve the diamond in the rough that is God's Favoured. He is bound to reach heights, possibly the next Holy Father. I wish for nothing but hope he will remember me after I perish, in old or in duty.

O'Lord Solis, grant me the wisdom and strength to aid your bard whenever he shall need it. Stand as his shield whenever he's in danger.

Master Maximillian is a thoughtful and intelligent young man. He says little but means a lot. I know School of Dawn attracts people from around the world, some kind, faithful, and some rich second generations. So tomorrow, grant him your light a little more when he leaves, even if you take it from me.

Give him the strength to stand against all challenges. Give him your blessing to make various friends.

May the holy light enlighten us and guide us all.]

…

"Should I sit here?"

"Yes, Favoured One. It will only take one hour for the portrait to finish." A short, thin old man with a mutton chop beard in a white toga directed him to a chair.

Sylvester did as told and took a seat. He had come to the Pope's palace to get his portrait made. It was a simple procedure before he starts School of Dawn, as this serves as a memory in case a student dies in the dangerous long years ahead.

He was in an empty small hall room. There was a red carpet with golden embroidery on the floor with some royal blue curtains behind him as decoration. Other than that, he was asked to wear formal clothes of the church.

This formal clothing was reserved for Clergymen. The dress of all church clergymen was almost the same. But the trainees had stricter codes to make all students look the same. The dress included long ankle-length full-sleeved robes of light yellowish-golden color. Existing church members, however, could wear any colored or designed robes they wanted.

[A/N: Look at the para comment to see the dress code.]

The one thing common among the trainees and the clergymen was that all had to wear a short shoulder-length cloak on the normal robes. It was red in color with golden lines at the extreme edges. It was held together with a golden chain at the front to which a Church's symbol was attached.

Sylvester was wearing this exact thing. The only lacking bit was the rank plate he'd get in the classroom.

"How should I sit?" He asked.

The painter was humming some hymn when he looked at him. He thought for a few minutes while rubbing his beard. "Hmm, you are a handsome young man, God's Favoured. Just sit straight with a smile. Keep your hands together on your lap… Ah! I didn't introduce myself. I am Leo Da Loveland. I know it's a strange name."

Sylvester chuckled. Being eight, he had the luxury of acting somewhat close to an adult. "Not stranger than Dungface."

"Is that a name?"

"Indeed, it belongs to a poor man from Pitfall. I wonder how he is now." He replied and fell into thinking. It had been a few years since the plague mission. He never heard any news from Sir Dolorem about the place.

"AH!" Leo exclaimed. "I loved the hymn you sang there. It's one of my favorites. My favorite passage is 'Some hands may be soaked in bloody grease. Few bodies may need help with disease. All shall find the holy road with ease. For his name guides us all to eternal peace.' Such thought-provoking words that I couldn't help but fall to my knees and pray to Solis."

The whole time he painted, Leo Da Loveland kept babbling about how much he loved Sylvester's hymns. Apparently, Sir Dolorem's duty was to tell the relevant church scribe all Sylvester's hymns so they could be recorded. These hymns were then copied into small booklets and sent to various monasteries to be spread around. This meant that many clergymen, soldiers, and commoners already knew Sylvester's name.

"Umm… I have a personal request that… I would be grateful if it was fulfilled." Sylvester interrupted the man."Anything for you, God's Favoured. Please speak."

"If you have time this evening, I wish to have a portrait made with my mother. She has sacrificed a lot in her life for me, and I want to immortalize her in a portrait. Unfortunately, I do not have much money, but I will pay what I can." He requested.

Leo dropped his paintbrush and shook his head. "How can I take money from you? No! I do not wish to sin. I'm a Baron, and I have enough money already. And to paint God's favored and the most blessed mother in all lands is a divine gift for me."

"So you will?"

He quickly agreed. "Yes! I will be prepared this evening to draw."

"Thank you, Lord Loveland."

Leo Da Loveland laughed loudly. "No, please call me Leo. I like that. It makes me feel close to others."

Sylvester nodded and silently stayed seated. His lone portrait, in the end, came out great. Maybe not comparable to medieval paintings of his previous world, but it appeared realistic enough.

"I am not in the portrait." Miraj got depressed because he was sitting on Sylvester's lap the whole time.

"I will make them add you to all my portraits one day, Chonky. Let's go and get my mother now." He muttered as he walked back home. The Pope's Palace was half an hour's walk away from Bright Mother's complex.

"Our mother!" Miraj added abruptly.

"Sure, our mother."

…

That evening, he made Xavia wear some better clothes under her baggy robes. He wanted her to look beautiful for the portrait because he genuinely thought Xavia was extremely beautiful.

"Are you sure he won't ask for money?" She asked him while on the way.

Sylvester rolled his eyes. He had answered her a dozen times already. "Yes, mum. He's a devoted believer. We're meeting him in the Pope's Palace, so it's very safe."

Soon, they entered the brightly lit hall with candles everywhere and magic light stones on the chandelier. Lord Loveland was waiting there, humming a hymn.

"Ah, welcome to this humble servant's workshop. Please stand there so we may begin. I believe it will take us three hours to make."

Sylvester held Xavia's hand and guided her around. "I will start school tomorrow. You can see this portrait whenever you miss me."

She hugged him for a split second, followed by a lot of pats on the head. "You are the most filial son a mother could dream of having."

"Ahem!—Mother Xavia, please pick Master Maximilian in your arms. I suddenly had a great inspiration for this portrait?"

'What? That was not the plan.' He thought and tried to speak out.

But Xavia had already moved to lift him in her arms and hug him. Her face had a faint motherly blush as she kissed his cheek. "If we're doing this, this is the best pose, Max."

Baron Loveland clapped in excitement. "Wonderful! Just kiss God's Favoured' cheek. There is no heartwarming scene better than this. I will add beautiful country fields in the background and make this my best work of a lifetime."

Sylvester noticed the happy smiles on Xavia's face, so resigned to his fate. It wasn't as if he'd do this every day. If it made Xavia happy and the portrait came out great, it was a worthy sacrifice. To hell with his dignity, today he was just a good son.

But he had something to add so he jumped out of her arms and took a small plushie from a cloth bag. "Wait a minute. I brought my childhood toy with me. It's been a friend of mine whenever I used to feel lonely. Leo, can you make this toy cat look realistic? As if it's truly sitting between mum and me?""No problem at all, God's Favoured. It's a small thing for me. Now, give me a bright, radiant smile."

And this way, the family of three got their portrait made. But more than Xavia, a particular furry lad was more joyful. So much so that he did not stop meowing the whole night.

[A/N: Look at the portrait in this para comment.]

…

The next day, with his robes neatly tucked and hair combed. He got ready to head to the School of Dawn, a building not far from Pope's Palace.

"Mum, I will see you at night." He waved Xavia from the door.

"When you return, I will make your favorite dish. So focus on today's class and make lots of friends." She ended up kissing his forehead.

Sylvester had gotten used to this new life, as embarrassing as it may be. Being someone who never had a mother in his life, he cherished everything Xavia did. So her smile was important to him.

With that bye, he was on his way to the school with Miraj hanging on his shoulder.

The school was supposed to start at seven in the morning, so he was going half an hour early. He timely entered the tall, 9-floor-high school building in time. It was not a simple building, as there were no staircases to get to the higher floors because they were reserved year-wise for students.

'Ah, is that the Pope? What's he doing here?' He noticed a tall figure walking along with other Holy Land Administrators.

He knew what he had to do instantly.

"Grandpa! Candy!" he, as always, called the old Pope. He didn't care if the Pope was a good man or not. All he knew was that this was the top guy and the one who could keep him safe.

...

Pope Axel Tar Kreed was walking down the decorated marble hallway of the school building when he heard the call. He quickly looked back with a smile and waited for Sylvester to catch up and hand him a small wrapped lemon candy, "Ho ho… look at our little shining bard. All ready for the first day of school?"

Sylvester kept the act going, even though it made his skin crawl. "Yes! How do I look? Mum made the dress for me."

The Pope was at least six foot five inches tall, so even when he knelt, he towered over Sylvester. But he kindly patted Sylvester's head and then fixed his collar.

"Have a good first day in the class, child. Make friends and work hard. Then maybe you can become the Pope someday."

"Really?!" Sylvester exclaimed excitedly, albeit having no interest in the position.

"You are God's Favored, of course, you can. Now go, or you shall be late." The Pope warmly patted his back and pushed him away.

Sylvester nodded and quickly ran off towards the classroom and soon arrived at the lecture hall on the ground floor of the giant gothic-style building.

He took a long breath before entering the classroom. He wanted to use his skills to slowly make connections with other kids to gain some influence for the future. He wondered how smart the kids would be, however. "Here goes nothin- HUH?!"

The words seemed to have retreated into Sylvester's mouth as he read the signboard on the door. The engraved words on it stood there like a hurdle to his 'till now' leisurely career.

'A1 - Classroom for God's Favored Ones.'

"Wait, this is not how it's supposed to be. Why is there an extra 's'?"

[A/N: I got severe food poisoning since yesterday. I hope it gets fixed so I can write more.]

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