"I am Fuking bored!" John yelled into the air, tossing his hands up in frustration.
He was in Weston's private study, Darwin-ising his chicken scratches into eligible handwriting in whatever language he was writing. Jack was outside in the back courtyard of the Castle: chopping wood. Jane was down stairs, on the first floor, in the kitchen washing dishes. Last but not least, was Jill knitting scarfs with the maids.
"Weston! It has been three months already! When are we going to do some combat training?!" John had turned around in his luxurious Saserysin-wool chair to look at the person in question.
Weston was seating in another luxurious Saserysin-wool chair, reading some tome about the mystical arts. He was in his causal clothes. Black leather boots with red-brown leather straps tightened snugly around his shins. Gold shin guards covering the upper half of his shins to his knees. White trousers dressed his legs. High class black gloves with golden embroidery covered his hands. Hip guards, shaped in an elaborate form of wings and masks, sat on his hips. He wore a White Tail Coat, the collar propped up. A dark-garnet red sash was draped over his left pauldron and across his chest to be tied together under his right pauldron. A silver chain ran on top of the sash connecting to a jewel of a gem Turquoise. Half the size of a humans' palm it was embedded into a silver guard. A translucent blue veil sat comfortably under the sash as well as below his waist. His White Tricorn Hat sat on the end stool along with his enchanted mahogany smoke pipe in its holder. The lit pipe made perfect circles of smoke that smelled like vanilla.
"When you can preform your given tasks without hiccups, then we can move on to combat training." Weston didn't even look up from his tome.
Soon after those words were spoken, an uninvited guest barged into the private study.
"Uncle! Uncle! Please say you love me~" the young girl ran into the room. Singing some made up lyrics, she jumps into Weston's lap: arms wide for a bear hug.
"Yoan! Yoan! I say I love you~" Weston responded with lyrics of his of his own, returning the bear hug with equal affection.
The young girl, Yoan, giggled in his arms, swaying her ash-grey hair. Her pink eyes were alight with merriment, her blue frilly dress wrinkled from running down the numerous halls. She looked back at John and blew a raspberry at him. His left eye twitched in annoyance.
Fucking brat... The only thing you have going for you is being a cute kid and Weston's niece. John's left eye kept twitching as he thought about all the pranks she has been pulling on his four bodies. Toads and Spiders... Toads and Spiders...
"Yoan, be nice. John here is still in the middle of his studies."
"But Uncle! Ever since you brought those four home, you've been ignoring me!" Her cheeks puffed out with childish antics: crossing her arms and turning her head away in a huff.
"By the way Yoan, where is Weslia?" He laughed as he ruffled her hair.
He knew full well where Weslia was and when she would be arriving. John stifled a laugh as Yoan face turned pale. Yoan glared at John before running behind Weston's Chair: not evening answering the question. For good reason, as the moment she hid behind the chair another uninvited guest marched into the private study: this time a mature woman. She was easy on the eyes. Practically a female version of Weston, she had her snow-white hair draped over her shoulders with one side bang down in a curl. Her Vermilion eyes glowed with an intensity between Weston and John's. She wore a red frilly dress and had a modest amount of jewelry: a golden, turquoise-bejeweled necklace and a gold bracelet on each wrist. Her red high heels clicked against the wooden floor. Her face was drawn with brewing anger.
"My, if it isn't Weslia. To what do I owe for this surprise visit." Weston sat comfortably in his chair, stewing in amusement.
"Princess Weslia greets his Majesty." She curtsied with a dignified demeanor that was previously buried by anger. "I am here to look for a certain... young lady. Have you seen Yoan? She still has to complete her studies on magic practicality and theorems."
"Hmm... I believe I heard her running down the halls." Weston pondered with no effort put into the act. Both John and Weslia sighed at his lazy performance.
"John, have you seen her?" Weslia turned to John, neither rude nor polite. John looked directly at Yoan's head poking out at the perfect angle where Weston's Posture naturally hid her. Yoan made eye contact back, imploring him not to rat her out.
Brat, we both know you're going to continue to prank me whether I rat you out or not. What makes you think I would help you out, here and now? John transmitted his thoughts through their eye contact. Her eyes widen upon 'receiving the message'. She begged desperately because she knew that he knows how... 'strict'... Weslia could be. It was all futile though, as all that begging achieved was a sly smile.
"So this is where you were hiding." Weslia had walked around the chair behind the tunnel visioned Yoan.
John did not have to say a thing. Weslia's attention to detail was what made Yoan and John fear her strict, overbearing visage. Yoan just bolted for the door, her mission: escape. She didn't get half way to the door when a gust of wind twirled around her and lifted her into the air. Weslia twirled her right index finger to have the wind turn Yoan to face her as she walked up to the floating girl.
"Come along Yoan, you have studies to complete." Weslia walked out of the study with Yoan floating close behind: tethered to her and looking absolutely miserable.
"I will get you back Sir John! Mark my words!" Yoan yelled back at John before she completely turned the corner beyond the door frame.
"Great..." John sighed. He looked back at Weston, whom had returned to reading his tome.
"Weston what is the point of all this training?" John wanted an answer if he wasn't going to start his combat training.
"The point?" Weston lazily pondered the question. "Hmm... What was the reason again?"
"How could you..." John face palmed at the man's antics.
"Aw yes, that's right!" Weston snapped his fingers. "The connection between your bodies is still to young for any life and death situation and I don't want to deal with the paperwork if one of you bodies dies. The Celestial Choir of Heaven 737 will complain for the next century and, oh boy, can Valkyries complain."
To young? Paper work? Heaven 737? Valkyries? What? John was getting more questions than answers.
"What do you mean? To young?" John started with the question most likely to lead to more answers.
"Yes, even though it's been three months, the enchantment facilitating your mental connection hasn't fully developed yet. Once the mental strain from processing the vision from four bodies has completely vanished, then we can begin combat training. Until then you must continue your given tasks so as to stress test the limits." Weston actually gave him a straight answer for once. "From the current rate of growth, we would be starting your combat training around the beginning of Fall. After that is the Winter Festival so we won't have much time left until next Summer."
John nodded. He wanted to ask more but Weston's voice led him to believe that he shouldn't ask certain questions. He turned his attention back to practicing his penmanship, chopping wood, washing dishes, and knitting scarves. If, no, when he gets better with his control, he could explore the various Realms under Weston's Authority.
