CHAPTER 202: NOT A CHILD, BUT WEAPON

Jason’s POV

Raven looked at her as if asking what she meant. It was Raven’s good quality that he wouldn’t ignore a new person once he was assured they weren’t entirely strangers to us.

"I mean, though you do not like to play here, what do you think is the most interesting thing around?" Isla asked, as if having a normal chat with him.

Raven’s gaze moved to the chessboard, but Isla said, "Don’t say chess. I saw you playing earlier. Tell me something else you see here. Umm... like, when I was your age, I used to play on the swing. You see this mark on my chin? I got hurt after falling from it, but it was still my favorite."

Raven looked at the mark on Isla’s chin, and she asked, "So which one for you?"

Raven’s gaze once more moved and then settled on the huge blocks that were arranged in order to complete the puzzle. We understood his answer, but Isla asked, "Which one?"

This time he pointed towards it. A reaction instead of a silent stare.

"So you do like brainstorming things," Isla concluded. "What about sliders and swings? Don’t you want to try them?"

He looked at her, as if her question didn’t make a sense to him.

Isla observed him for a moment, keeping that pleasant smile on her lips. "I know you have never tried it, but you should. Aren’t you curious how it feels to play there? Trust me, it’s real fun."

In response, he looked at me.

"I think Isla is right," I told him. "And you are free to do whatever you want to. Go ahead."

He got down from the bench and walked toward the playing area. Just as we thought he would go to the fun activity section, he went to that puzzle blocks where no one was playing, and started to solve it.

Isla stood up. She didn’t look surprised at all.

"What do you think?" I asked Isla.

"Mind trained to follow the strict rules, even the body reflexes, submissive, trained to always ask for permission, decision-making ability almost destroyed..." Isla continued to recount her observation as I listened silently, both of us watching him.

"He wasn’t born mute," I added.

"When you have no right to ask questions, not allowed to resist, you are lonely, restrictions and strict rules bury you under—then one day you give up and choose to follow only to keep the peace of your mind," she said. "And then there comes the day your brain is infused with it to the extent it becomes normal for you.

"In Raven’s case, I am sure he didn’t even have anyone to talk with other than the ones appointed to train him, with whom he had nothing to talk about. Simply following those fixed rules became the way for him to live, which left nothing for him to talk about. More like a robot infused with a certain fixed program."

"Why would they turn him this way?" I asked. "They could just let him live like a normal kid."

"A good future weapon which asks no questions but only knows how to obey," Isla answered—and now it hit me.

For them, he wasn’t a child, but a living weapon.

The damn wicked people. Raven was a pureblood and would possess powers. They were preparing him as a weapon?

"It’s nothing new, isn’t it?" Isla asked.

"Yes, they are sold as slaves, abused and broken, and then raised to be a weapon—like dead ones only breathing and following orders," I told her. "But I’ve never seen someone raised like Raven, like someone royal and sophisticated. Seems like these people have changed their ways."

Isla thought for a while and replied, "Perhaps this weapon is well planned and raised to fulfill a certain fixed purpose."

Her words made sense. "The way the deal was made even before he was born, I can only agree with you."

The revelations we are getting these days clearly pointed towards something big being planned long before, involving Eira and our pack.

"And, the mute ones do not reveal the secrets," Isla added.

"So we can say, he was purposely raised to be mute," I concluded.

Isla hummed. "The kind of well planned, psychological manipulation and silent torture he had been through, you can only imagine."

The bastards will pay for it.

"Is there a chance we can change him?" I asked.

"He is just a kid whose brain is still developing," she said. "Just like they infused those things in his mind, we can always add our and change him. As they say, kids are like clay that we can mold as we want. The key is always patience."

I hummed in agreement. "We will do everything we can. But, will he talk?"

"He is not mute, he just needs a reason to talk," Isla said.

"When we try to make him talk, he prefers silence over responding to us," I explained, "and in the end we have to give in to him."

She smiled lightly. "It will take time. But before that, your first challenge is to make him smile and laugh, or maybe cry. Talking comes after that. Smiling and laughing are instinctive, and one can’t stop if something is there to trigger that instinct in them. Crying will shake his stilled emotions.

"Let’s take babies—they smile, laugh, and cry first. So you have to start from the basics here. You need to make him hear his own voice and let him know his throat is not idle and he can feel emotions. Then slowly he will come around.

"Right now he is like a crisp, perfectly ironed, unstained, good-quality blank white sheet. We have to fill it with different colors to turn it into a beautiful painting."

I understood what she meant and hummed again.

Raven had finished already and was returning to us.

"This kid is a genius, and far ahead of the kids of his age," Isla commented. "I am sure his gene purity is of the highest ranking."

"We will know after Liam has done some tests," I told her.

Raven returned to us and we headed back. On the way, I asked Isla about Eira.

"There are positive changes in her, and she is doing better than I had expected," Isla said. "Having her wolf is like a miracle for her body and mind, so we should thank her wolf."

It was a relief to know it. I could only wish the best for her.