Chapter 4 "Offenbarung" – Revelation
[One Month later]
[St. Benedicts Chapel, London]
[ November 1611]
30 days. He had counted them. Not quite like a prisoner scratching lines into the wall of his cell, but he had kept count. That's how long in took for Leonhard to adapt to his new life.
More or less.
He still catches himself looking at his own reflection in a mirror a little to often. Not because he was a vain person, but because his shrunken form looked odd. At least he thought so to himself (He refuses to acknowledge the Nuns pinching his cheeks and calling him adorable on a new way every day).
'Although this is exactly what I looked like when I was in preschool, it still seems slightly off to see myself appear so young.'
30 days was all it took for him to fully accept and embrace his circumstances. Humans are a species which inherently adapts quickly to changing conditions. It was a necessity to survive. A mechanism of sorts.
Throughout this last month Leonhard had gotten very used to his new routine. His days begin after he wakes up in his own room. A rare circumstance for children of the Chapel. All of them live in shared rooms, but because of Leonhard's history it was deemed best that he has a safe space.
The Monks in charge told him he can take as much time as he wants to settle in. Whenever he feels ready, he can join the other children in their shared bedroom.
[Authors note: Monk = Brother // they live usually in monasteries; their daily life consists of praying, studying and manual labor]
Not that Leonhard had any motivation to do so. Having gone from an adult lifestyle back to a child may have made him physically young, but mentally he needed his space. Privacy. Peace. Protection.
Nothing that could be found in the shared bedroom on the 3rd floor of the Chapel.
His own little room was on the 2nd floor. Close enough to where the Monks live, if he ever needs them. Due to his room being the last one in the hallway around the corner he enjoys a solitary living space.
After waking and washing up he continues with his day by going towards the communal dining room. Here all active members of the Chapel come together to break their bread. The mornings are calm and slow, due to it still being exceedingly early. The rules dictate that everyone joins the morning prayer before eating breakfast at 6 A.M. sharp.
For breakfast both the Monks and Nuns from the adjacent building join.
With Leonhard joining the Chapel, the now fifty-eight members start their day together.
After cleaning up the dining room the most senior Monk leads the young boys away to the classroom whilst a well-aged Nun does the same for all female Orphans that have been taken in.
Every school day starts with bible-study. Depending on the day it then differs between literary classes, mathematics and finally art class. After a few hours, a lunch break and then more practice assignments the youngest students of the chapel are free to leave the classroom.
After that?
'Chores, ugh. Can't even escape them in my next life man…'
And today one particular stain was refusing to surrender to Leonhard's hard work and elbow grease. Hot water? Ineffective. New rag? No difference. The offending object? A mirror. It was big enough that Leonhard had to get onto his toes to reach the top part of it.
Taking a little break Leonhard sat on a nearby bench and caught his breath.
"Thursdays are surely super sucky… heh." He chuckled to himself.
Every Thursday it was his turn to clean, and none of the other children wanted to trade cleaning duty for the other chores. Kitchen duty being the most popular because the little ones tended to snack on the food. Hard to do under the watchful eyes of the monks and nuns. But oh so rewarding. Yum.
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After taking a moment to collect himself Leonhard focused on his archnemesis. Or as he dubbed it in his head - "Stain-san". He may be a child again, but nobody can call him an impolite one.
[In Japanese, "san" (さん) is a common honorific used after someone's name to show respect or politeness.]
Stain-san was an infamous dark mark in the top right corner of the mirror. It has become somewhat of a legend to the children. Nobody can remove it. Many of the monks admit to it being there since they were young children themselves. But Leonhard was not having it! No sir! Being unable to surpass the other kids in a task as simple as cleaning up was grinding his gears.
So, he took it upon himself to fix this error and prove to himself that he isn't just one of the many other children staying at the Chapel. A handful of them were throwing jealous looks his way due to his private accommodations and good academic scores. This was his way to prove himself.
Childish but an argument that should make them shut up. Or so he thought.
After rubbing his fingers numb and raw with a towel, a bucket of water and fading soap bubbles young Leonhard was close to giving up. It had already been well over half an hour of straight up challenging the dark and muddy stain. No matter what he tried it would not yield! His only company was his reflection in the mirror…
As more time passed, so did his frustration and anger increase.
"Ok f**k this and screw you Stain-san! Actually, screw that – being nice is a thing for the past. Reminds me of a quote. Something about insanity and repeated actions… whatever! I am legitimately going insane! Talking to myself like a crazy person!"
His anger ran deep and was bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. In a moment of fancy, embracing the insanity of the moment he stared into the mirror. His venomous eyes moving from the stain to his own appearance. Glancing from his body along his neck all the way up to his head. Focusing on his eyes.
It was then that he said with a mocking voice to his own reflection:
"Well?! What are you staring at? Huh? If you're so much better clean this mess up YOURSELF!!!"
At this very moment, Leonhard experienced a life defining moment.
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Leonhard had been staring at the mirror for over an hour, watching his reflection mimic his every move. Until it didn't.
Without warning, the image stopped mirroring him.
He stood still - tense, breath heavy - but the reflection no longer followed.
Instead, it moved on its own.
It straightened slowly, spine rising until it stood tall and rigid. Unnaturally precise, like a soldier snapping to attention.
Then, it tilted its head, one brow arched in challenge, eyes locked on him with a gaze that felt far too aware.
Leonhard couldn't move. Couldn't speak. His mind struggled to catch up with what he was seeing.
And the reflection didn't wait.
Breaking eye contact, it glanced up toward the top corner of the mirror.
Then, with eerie composure, it raised its right hand… snapped its fingers…
PANG!
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It was the loud sound and the dull ache of landing flat on his butt that finally snapped Leonhard out of his trance.
Dazed, he blinked a few times, heart hammering, and slowly pushed himself upright. His feet shuffled forward until he stood just inches from the mirror, staring at the now still reflection. His own wide-eyed, shaken face stared back.
No movement. No attitude. Just… him again.
But something was wrong. Or rather - something was different.
His eyes instinctively shot to the top right corner of the mirror.
The stain?
Gone.
Not faded. Not smudged. Not faintly lingering.
Gone. Completely.
His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He reached up to touch the mirror half-expecting it to burn, to pulse, to shatter.
It didn't.
Just cool glass beneath his fingertips.
'That… that didn't just happen. Right? I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. The fumes, maybe? Bad soap? A concussion from falling? Something. Anything…'
His mind chased reason like a dog chasing its own tail.
But the mirror offered no explanation. No clue. Just his own confused reflection staring back at him.
And yet, he couldn't ignore it. Not now. Not with the stain gone.
Not after what he saw.
He took a shaky breath.
"…Could it be…?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Magic.
The word didn't sound as ridiculous as it should have.
And for the first time since arriving at the Chapel, Leonhard didn't feel entirely alone.
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