I Became The Pope, Now What?-Chapter 12: 12. Adopted?

'J-John... P-Prom-ise... must live. I-I love you... for-eve-r…'

"Aya!" Sylvester's eyes abruptly flared wide, and their golden pupil dilated. His body rose from the bed and tried to sit up as sweat trickled down his forehead. The nightmares of the days better forgotten had not left his side yet. And they often ended with feeling like he was falling into an endless abyss.

"What happened, sweetie? Saw a nightmare?" Xavia noticed the sweat-covered temple. Taking a piece of silk cloth, she wiped it and gave him a peck on his cheek.

"You're different, too different. But I have decided to let those irrational thoughts rest away. You are my son, and nothing will change that. Am I right, my handsome little prince?"

She started playing with him, raising him above her head by extending her arms. Sylvester had just woken up and didn't even know if it was day or night. But he entertained her. The woman deserved some level of happiness.

However, he wondered why the nightmares were coming. If he went by science, he reckoned that a newborn's brain develops the most by the time he turns five. So maybe his memories were reaffirming themselves in this body? Or if it was something magical, he had no idea.

He looked at his excited mother. She was wearing bright gold religious robes and a wimple right now. And to her sides, she had also fastened a dagger and a small book.

After playing with her son, Xavia put him into a cradle. "I'm sorry, Max, I must go and study with other Trainee Bright Mothers. You play here; I will return soon to feed you again."

Sylvester sat in the confines of his prison-like cradle while eyeing her leave. He then glanced around. This cradle was at least twice as tall as him. However, he knew he could climb up.

Call it an occupational hazard from his previous life or general paranoia after being through the hellish last few days. He couldn't rest unless he knew his surroundings, that everything was safe.

'As a child, I can roam around anywhere I want to, and no one will get angry or harm me. So I must make the best out of this situation.'

Using his noodle legs, he tried to climb the cradle's bars. But because his grip was not firm, he'd slide down every time. There were many cushions around him that he could use. So, he used all his little might and stacked the pillows one over another until his height aligned with that of the cradle bar.

Next, he threw a pillow out and began to climb the last stretch.

"Eh! Uhhh…" He tried to use all his core strength, but that made his weak little tummy pop out some morning breeze through his butt, a sign of good health.

But a mere breeze didn't stop Sylvester, no matter how foul the stench was. Even if he felt like vomiting but controlled himself, that would make him lose strength.

'Just a little more!' He could see the other side as his head slowly popped out. Sylvester quickly tilted his body forward and threw himself out of the cradle.

Thud!—He fell on the soft pillow he had thrown out earlier to secure his landing. Now the next phase was to crawl to the door and open it. However, when he looked at the surroundings, he felt dizzy. 'M-My God… everything looks so huge as a baby.'

The chairs looked like towers; the cradle from where he fell was now unreachable. The ceiling of the room was like the sky to him. He hated his little blob body. Still focusing on his target, he crawled to the door. Despite the world being so backwards, the door handle looked modern and needed to be pulled down.

He worked hard and pulled the bedsheets from Xavia's bed. Then, making a noose, he threw it on the door handle. With a simple pull with his body weight, the door clicked open.

Sylvester carefully poked his head out, just enough to observe the other side. Being caught this early was useless, after all. Thankfully, the building was reserved for the housing of Bright Mothers. Thus, most people in the building had gone to work or study.

Since he did not know the layout, he randomly picked a direction and crawled forward in the hallway. He made sure to stick to the rightmost side to hide behind the corridor pillars in an emergency.

The corridor was at the side of the building, so he could see the open space and the height at which he was. He appeared to be on the 3rd or 4th floor.

After crawling for a while, he faced his first challenge: climbing down the stairs. This simple task was difficult for his body, but Sylvester could do it. He made sure not to stumble and come down falling. His curious heart was interested in the outside world.

The moment he arrived at the bottom floor, he saw a big white cat sleeping near the exit of the building. 'Great, with my size, even this thing can kill me.'

With baby steps, he silently crawled away. Sylvester breathed so low that if Xavia were here, she would think he was dead. 'Slowly… yes… just a little more.'

At last, he crossed the final boundary and arrived outside the building. The sun shone on his baby skin and made him feel warm. In fact, he felt like he gained energy just by being under the sunlight.

'Now it's time to explore.' Sylvester crawled towards the building next door, beyond the garden, to see what went on there. The architecture appeared to be a mix of different types from Earth, but all seemed to be in synergy.

However, the weirdest thing was that each building had extensive open terraces and seemed to be full of people. Some sat there to rest, while others were either eating or studying.

And this somehow made the grounds look quite desolate.

'Good for me', he thought.

This meant he could go far before being caught. Soon, he arrived at the nearest building and sneakily entered the next hallway. He knew that the campus was huge, and he couldn't explore it all with his little body, but what he wanted was to study and know the place more.

As Sylvester crawled into the corridors of the building, he heard loud rhythmic voices from the rooms on both sides. Classes were ongoing, so he silently tried to listen and understand the words echoing in the hallway.

"We, the Bright Mothers, are not warriors, but we shall fight when needed. We are the healers, but we shall hurt when we must. The book of Saint Mother Grace, one of the five heroes of the Great War, rests on the right side of our waist. At the same time, the dagger remains on the left.

"We preach the teachings of the seventy-eight Popes who have guided us in the past five thousand years. We point the way to the embrace of Solis, and that is our sacred duty. As the Bright Mothers in training, you shall be taught history, the blessings and work. And the training will last five years. Any questions?"

One woman lifted her hand suddenly. "Mother Martha, can I sometimes bring my son with me?"

"Ah, the mother of the God's Favoured? Yes, you can bring him. I wish not to be punished for allowing any detriment to his mind or body," the senior Bright Mother replied respectfully.

Sylvester smiled outside as he heard Xavia's voice. 'She thinks so much about me.' But his mind also had a hundred questions. 'What's this thing about five thousand years and only seventy-eight Popes? Are humans so long-lived in this world? And this Great war again?'

There was so much to be answered. But he made a smart decision and quickly moved away from there. As long as Xavia brought him to her classes every day, he would automatically learn everything. Putting his life at risk anymore was not worth it.

So he returned the same way while enjoying the sun. Scrutinising the sky the whole time, he realised the sun seemed much bigger in this world. Yet, the heat was not unpleasant.

Just then, he realised something he had heard during that camp incident. 'Xavia said wizards are the weakest at night. Does that mean daylight has something to do with our powers? Is this why I feel like eating that juicy sun?'

'So many things do not make sense. It's hard to adjust to this new world so quickly. Not to mention, everyone and everything feels like a threat, especially in this body.' Sighing, he continued on his way.

Eventually, he arrived at the entrance and there it was. The cat still slept there merrily, looking relaxed. Sylvester saw its face for the first time and felt like petting it.

But he was scared since the fluffy cat seemed to be an adult and appeared bigger than him. It was undoubtedly cute… but deadly. 'Easy, can't let it wake up.'

Carefully, he started to climb the stairs one at a time. They were no less than hills for him and took all his strength. He aimed to climb non-stop until he was at least one floor up. Only then would he feel safe.

One…

Two…

Ten…

Twenty.

'I hate my body! I hate these week noodle legs!' Sylvester cursed as he reached the last stair of the floor. He was sweating with sore legs and arms and might have fouled his diapers too.

He breathed wildly. 'Ah... I-I can't die at the hands of a cat. I can't let such shame spoil my name. AAAA...'

Thud!—Like a dead body, Sylvester dropped face-first as soon as he reached the 1st floor. He felt tired, and his mind was on the verge of breaking. 'I can't believe I'm saying this, but... I miss Xavia.'

Pat-Pat!

Sylvester felt someone tapping on his fouled diaper-clad ass. Delighted that the help had arrived, he turned back to hug whichever woman it was. While also not forgetting to make baby noises. "Aya Aya Ooowaaa... FUCK!"

There was no pretty Bright Mother waiting to help him. Instead, it was the damn cat from downstairs, now standing face to face with him. Its blue eyes appeared to be full of curiosity, and its nose sniffed him intently.

Sylvester instinctively cursed and tried to move back. But unfortunately, he was only half as tall as the cat, who was currently sitting on its hind legs with the help of the tail.

It constantly tilted its head left and right, as confused puppies do. Then, it started to move towards him. The more he moved back, the closer the cat got.

'H-How did I use my powers that night? Maybe I can pulverise this cat too. Yes, the hymns. I should sing it.' He brainstormed quickly.

♫O' hear me the Lord of Light,

I need your help in this figh-♫

"MEOW!"

The cat leapt into the air abruptly. Sylvester even forgot to sing and covered his face with his arms, expecting sharp claw slashes.

Pat!—Yet he felt no pain. Instead, there was a gentle soft pat. The cat moved closer, licked his hair, and then used its forelegs to hug his neck.

Shocked, Sylvester uncovered his face and glanced at the hugging cat. It looked excited, without a hint of malice he expected.

Pat-Pat!

The cat, this time, tapped on Sylvester's forehead softly with its paws and did something that shocked his 21st-century brain.

"Little human kitten... Mine now!"

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