The following months brought a quiet change to Adrian's life. He was still too young to understand the significance of the things he saw, but his questions were becoming more frequent, and the adults around him were beginning to realize that his curiosity was not limited to whatever happened to be in front of him.
He wanted explanations.
When he saw a servant light a candle, he wanted to know why the flame appeared. When rain struck the windows, he asked where it came from. When a physician visited the estate to examine one of the servants, Adrian wanted to know why the man had become sick and why the physician carried bottles of medicine.
Most questions could be answered simply.
Some could not.
His mother had learned to recognize the difference.
One afternoon, she found him sitting beside the window in the library with a book open across his lap. He could not read it, but he had discovered that books contained illustrations, and he had become particularly interested in a collection of natural histories belonging to his father.
Elira sat beside him.
"What are you looking at?"
Adrian pointed to an illustration of a tree.
"Tree."
"Yes."
"Why grow?"
Elira smiled.
"Because it is alive."
"Why alive?"
She paused.
"Because the gods gave life to the world."
Adrian considered the answer.
"How?"
"I don't know."
He looked up at her.
"You don't know?"
"No."
That seemed to surprise him.
For much of his young life, adults had appeared to know almost everything. They knew when he needed to eat, when he needed to sleep, which doors he was forbidden to open, and which objects he was not allowed to touch. His father knew the names of distant places, his mother could identify plants in the gardens, and Father Merian seemed to know the meaning of every symbol in the chapel.
Yet his mother had admitted that she did not know something.
Adrian looked back at the tree.
"Who knows?"
"Priests have studied the teachings of the gods for centuries. Scholars have written books about life and nature. Some physicians study living bodies. There are many people who know more about the subject than I do."
"Can I know?"
Elira looked at him.
"You can learn."
"Everything?"
"No one knows everything."
"Why?"
"Because the world is very large."
Adrian looked toward the library shelves.
"Books?"
"Books can help."
He looked at the thousands of volumes surrounding them.
"All?"
Elira laughed softly.
"You will have to learn to read before you can find out."
Adrian looked down at the book again.
That answer did not discourage him.
It gave him something to work toward.
A few weeks later, Edric arranged for a physician to visit the estate.
The man was named Arlen Voss and had served House Arvane for more than fifteen years. He was not a noble, but his position gave him a comfortable life, and his reputation had earned him access to several aristocratic households.
He arrived carrying a leather case filled with bottles, instruments, folded cloth, and small metal tools.
Adrian immediately noticed it.
"What is that?"
Dr. Voss looked down at him.
"Medicine."
Adrian pointed toward the case.
"What's inside?"
"Things that help people."
"How?"
The physician laughed.
"Your father warned me."
Edric, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow.
"Warned you about what?"
"That your son asks questions."
"He does."
Dr. Voss knelt so he was closer to Adrian's height.
"Would you like to see?"
Adrian nodded.
The physician opened the case.
Several small glass bottles rested inside, each containing a different liquid or powder.
"This is willow extract. It can reduce pain and fever."
Adrian looked at the bottle.
"This?"
"Yes."
"And this?"
"An antiseptic."
"What does it do?"
"It helps prevent wounds from becoming infected."
Adrian looked at his father.
"Like the priest?"
Dr. Voss smiled.
"Not quite."
"Why?"
"Because I don't close wounds with divine power."
"Then how?"
The physician glanced at Edric.
Edric gestured for him to answer.
"Because the body has its own ability to repair itself. My job is to help it."
Adrian looked at the physician's hands.
"How?"
"That is a much longer lesson."
"Tell me."
Dr. Voss laughed.
"You are not going to let this go, are you?"
Adrian shook his head.
The physician opened a small book from his case.
"Very well. Look here."
He showed Adrian an illustration of a human arm.
"This is the body. When you are injured, the body reacts. Blood carries what you need to damaged tissue, cells begin repairing the injury, and eventually the wound closes."
Adrian stared at the picture.
"So the body heals?"
"Yes."
"God?"
"The gods created the body, according to the Church. But the body still has its own processes."
Adrian looked confused.
Dr. Voss continued.
"Think of it this way. If a carpenter builds a house and gives it a door, the carpenter does not need to open the door every time someone walks through it."
Adrian thought about that.
"So the gods make rules?"
The physician became quiet.
Edric glanced at him.
"That is one way to think about it."
Adrian looked back at the illustration.
"Can people learn rules?"
Dr. Voss smiled.
"That is what scholars spend their lives trying to do."
The answer stayed with Adrian.
His first encounter with formal education came earlier than expected.
When Adrian turned three, Edric decided it was time for him to begin learning letters.
The decision was not unusual. Noble children were often taught at home before they reached the age when they would enter formal academies.
A private tutor was hired.
Her name was Marianne Vale.
She was thirty-two years old, the daughter of a minor noble family, and had spent several years teaching the children of merchants and aristocrats in the capital.
Her first lesson took place in the library.
Adrian sat across from her at a small wooden table.
Between them were several pieces of parchment.
Marianne placed a large letter on the first page.
"This is A."
Adrian looked at it.
"A."
"Good."
She drew another.
"This is B."
"B."
Another.
"C."
Adrian repeated it.
The lesson continued.
Marianne expected him to lose interest.
Instead, he kept watching.
She began writing different letters and asking him to identify them.
He made mistakes.
Whenever he did, she corrected him.
After half an hour, she put the parchment aside.
"Enough for today."
Adrian frowned.
"More."
Marianne smiled.
"Your mother told me you might say that."
"More."
"You have been studying for half an hour."
"More."
"Your father specifically instructed me not to exhaust you."
Adrian looked toward the door.
"Father?"
"Yes."
He thought for a moment.
"Father wrong."
Marianne covered her mouth to hide a laugh.
"Perhaps, but I am still your tutor."
Adrian reluctantly accepted the end of the lesson.
Marianne gathered the parchment.
Before leaving, she looked toward the doorway.
Edric had been watching from outside.
"He's unusually persistent."
"I've noticed."
"He also doesn't seem satisfied with memorizing."
Edric raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
"When I teach him something, he immediately wants to know why it is true."
Edric smiled.
"Then you may have a difficult student."
Marianne smiled back.
"Or an interesting one."
Adrian's education expanded gradually.
Letters became words.
Words became sentences.
Numbers followed.
He learned basic arithmetic, history, geography, manners, and the structure of noble society.
Religion remained part of his education as well.
Father Merian continued visiting the estate and explaining the gods.
He did not attempt to force belief into Adrian. Instead, he taught him what the Church taught.
There were gods associated with natural forces, aspects of life, and fundamental principles of the world. Their churches had different traditions, rituals, symbols, and responsibilities, but all recognized the divine order that protected civilization.
Adrian listened carefully.
One afternoon, Father Merian placed several wooden symbols on the table.
"Tell me what this is."
Adrian picked up the symbol of a flame.
"The Lord of Flame."
"And his authority?"
"Fire."
"Only fire?"
Adrian hesitated.
"Heat?"
"Good."
The priest placed another symbol beside it.
"And this?"
"The Sea Mother."
"What falls under her authority?"
"Water. The sea."
"Only the sea?"
Adrian frowned.
He remembered something his mother had told him.
"Rain?"
Father Merian smiled.
"Yes."
Adrian looked at the symbols.
"Can gods use each other's powers?"
Father Merian's expression changed slightly.
"Why do you ask?"
"If the Sea Mother controls water and the Lord of Flame controls fire."
He pointed at the two symbols.
"Can the Sea Mother make fire?"
The priest considered his answer carefully.
"Not according to the teachings of the Church."
"Why?"
"Because each god possesses their own authority."
Adrian frowned.
"What is authority?"
Father Merian leaned back.
"That is difficult to explain."
Adrian waited.
"The gods do not merely possess power. They have dominion over certain aspects of creation. A god's authority is the right and ability to govern what belongs to them."
"Who gives them the right?"
The priest went silent.
Adrian waited.
"That," Father Merian finally said, "is a question theologians have debated for centuries."
Adrian looked pleased.
"Then they don't know."
Father Merian laughed.
"Some would strongly object to that description."
"But they don't know."
"They know many things."
"But not that."
The priest smiled.
"You are becoming troublesome."
Adrian did not understand whether that was praise.
He decided it probably was.
That evening, Adrian returned to the library.
Marianne had left several books on a low table for him, most containing simple stories and illustrations.
He ignored them.
Instead, he searched through the shelves until he found the book his father had shown him months earlier.
The natural history.
He carried it to the table with some difficulty and opened it.
The pages contained drawings of plants, animals, rivers, mountains, and the human body.
Adrian could read some of the simpler words now.
He found the section about trees.
He traced his finger along the illustration.
The book explained how roots absorbed water from the ground, how leaves interacted with sunlight, and how plants produced seeds.
Adrian read slowly.
He reached the end of the page and stopped.
The book had explained what the tree did.
It had not explained why the rules existed.
He turned the page.
There were more explanations.
More observations.
More patterns.
Adrian's interest deepened.
He did not know enough to understand the significance of what he was reading, but he had begun to recognize something important.
The world did not behave randomly.
Water moved in predictable ways.
Fire behaved according to recognizable conditions.
Plants grew according to patterns.
Bodies healed according to processes.
The gods performed miracles according to rules that priests themselves struggled to explain.
Everything he encountered seemed to have a reason.
He simply did not know what those reasons were.
Adrian closed the book.
Outside the window, the sun was setting over Valedria.
The towers of the temples were silhouetted against the orange sky, and the bells of the evening prayers began to ring across the city.
Adrian listened.
He knew what the bells meant now.
He knew the names of the gods.
He knew the Church taught that the gods governed different authorities within creation.
He knew that priests could perform miracles through divine power.
He also knew that physicians could produce results through knowledge of the natural world.
For a child of three, these were simply pieces of information.
He had no grand theory.
He had no intention of challenging the Church.
He did not even understand why anyone would want to.
He only had questions.
And each answer seemed to produce another.
Adrian looked once more toward the temples.
Then he returned to the book and began sounding out the next page.