Chapter 15: Owen
Owen danced around Meliodas excitedly.
Meliodas studied his familiar closely. It was no longer a simple black flame.
Where there had once been shifting fire now stood something else entirely. Owen had taken shape.
A tiny, round golem no taller than Meliodas’ hand hovered before him. His body was encased in brilliant red-black knight-like armor, polished yet faintly uneven, as if forged from living heat rather than metal. The surface glowed subtly from within.
At the center of his chest was a small iron oven door. Behind it, a black flame burned steadily. Not wild or chaotic, it was Contained and shining brightly.
The little construct shifted awkwardly, as if testing its own limbs for the first time. Then it struck what could only be described as a proud stance, tiny armored arms resting at its sides.
The oven door creaked slightly, and the black flame inside flared.
Owen raised one tiny armored hand and gave Meliodas a sharp salute, as if reporting for duty.
A loud laugh erupted in the room.
Meliodas turned sharply.
Professor Aurelius stood a few steps away, one hand on his stomach, the other covering his eyes as he tried and failed to contain himself.
“What?” Meliodas asked.
“Nothing, nothing,” Aurelius replied between chuckles, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “It’s just… the name. It fits perfectly.”
He cleared his throat, though the amusement still lingered in his voice.
“You are not the most creative person, are you, Student?”
Meliodas chose not to respond, instead, he focused on Owen.
He closed his eyes, feeling the connection between them deepen steady, warm and alive. It strengthened with each passing second, no longer fragile, no longer uncertain.
He shifted his awareness inward, his core space had changed, Meliodas felt it.
The black orb was no longer dull. It was now wrapped in intertwining red and black flames, burning brightly but under control. Meliodas concentrated on it, seeking understanding.
He opened his eyes.
Owen was still standing before him, tiny hand raised in salute, unwavering.
Meliodas smirked.
“At ease, soldier.”
Owen immediately reacted. He relaxed, drifting upward before settling onto Meliodas’ shoulder, his small armored legs wobbling playfully in the air.
“Congratulations, student,” Aurelius said, his tone now composed again. “You have successfully acquired a familiar.”
He folded his hands behind his back.
“And I must thank you. It is rare to witness something like this. The formation of a bond is normally instantaneous. The familiar takes its form at once. In your case, because you were unconscious, the pact could not finalize properly.”
His eyes etched with curiosity.“Truly fascinating.”
Aurelius thought for a moment and continued.
“May I ask what type of familiar you’ve acquired? If I had to guess… I would say a support type.”
“You are correct, Professor,” Meliodas replied.
He glanced at Owen, who tilted his tiny helmeted head slightly.
“Owen is a support type. He functions similarly to the array. He gathers ambient Straum, purifies it, and feeds me refined fire Straum. It significantly increases my recovery.”
He hesitated slightly. “And… I can feel there’s something else to him. But I’m not entirely sure what.”
“A support type,” Aurelius repeated slowly. “And a rare one at that. To purify ambient Straum and convert it directly into pure fire energy…”
He shook his head faintly. “That is exceptional.”
His gaze shifted between Meliodas and Owen.
“And, quite conveniently, exactly what you require.”
Aurelius fell silent for a moment, studying the pair more carefully.
Before Aurelius could continue, Owen moved.
He floated forward, red and black aura flaring around his small armored body. The air shifted instantly. A vortex formed around him as ambient Straum rushed to it, spiraling violently toward the tiny iron door set into his chest.
The door creaked open.
Inside, the calm black flame was revealed.
Straum poured into him.
Owen glowed brighter and brighter, red and black light pulsing in waves as he absorbed it. The laboratory air trembled faintly from the sudden pull.
Then, It stopped.
The vortex vanished as abruptly as it had formed.
Owen drifted lazily back to Meliodas’ shoulder and flopped down against it. He placed his tiny hands over his round belly, which had expanded just slightly.
A second later, a barely audible burp escaped him, soft, content and completely unbothered.
“Fascinating,” Aurelius murmured.
Meliodas adjusted his glasses slightly before speaking again.
“Professor… I don’t feel any pain anymore. Is that normal?”
“Of course it isn’t,” Aurelius replied flatly. “What you did wasn’t normal, as I’ve already told you, and I cannot stress this enough you should be dead, Meliodas.”
His pale eyes studied him carefully.
“The fact that you are standing there, not only alive but with a newly formed bound familiar and already stabilizing… is impressive.”
Meliodas blinked and thought for a moment before answering. “So… am I free to go, Professor?”
“Of course not,” Aurelius said immediately. “You still need to fully replenish your Straum before I allow you to leave. Under normal circumstances, your recovery would have taken at least a full day.”
His gaze flicked toward Owen, who was now lazily swaying on Meliodas’ shoulder.
“But with your familiar,” he continued, “you should be recovered by morning.”
“Morning?” Meliodas repeated, glancing toward the windows. Night had clearly fallen.
He sighed and looked back at the professor.
“Well… I suppose I don’t have anything better to do.”
The hours passed quietly.
Meliodas remained seated within the array, breathing slowly, steadily, as the symbols beneath him pulsed with a soft, controlled rhythm. He could feel it clearly now, the difference. His recovery was no longer forced or painful, but gradual, natural.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Owen helped immensely.
The tiny familiar hovered near him, drifting lazily through the air before settling close to Meliodas’ chest. Each time ambient Straum flowed toward the array, Owen intercepted it first. Meliodas could feel the process through their connection, the way Owen drew the chaotic energy in, burned it down, stripped it of impurities, and refined it into something clean.
Pure fire Straum.
It was then gently guided into Meliodas’ core, warm and stable, restoring him piece by piece.
“So that’s how you do it…” Meliodas murmured quietly, eyes still closed.
The process was nothing like absorbing raw Straum directly. There was no pressure, no instability. Just warmth spreading outward from his nexus, knitting everything back together. Even his exhaustion, the deep, bone-heavy kind, slowly faded.
Meliodas was certain of it, by morning, he would be fully recovered.
Professor Aurelius had left him alone in the laboratory earlier, pressing a small vial into his hand before departing.
“A booster,” the professor had said. “Not a cure. It will dull the exhaustion and keep your focus intact. Do not overestimate it.”
Meliodas had taken it without question.
Now, with the potion doing its work and Owen quietly filtering energy beside him, the recovery felt… peaceful.
His breathing slowed further as he slipped deeper into meditation, senses turning inward. His core space unfolded before him once more, brighter now, steadier. The orange flames burned clean and strong, and near them floated Owen’s nexus, a small red-black orb, pulsing gently in time with his own.
They were… connected. Not like command and obedience but more like companionship. Meliodas thought.
Meliodas felt a faint flicker of emotion through the bond, contentment, maybe even pride. This made him smile faintly.
“Guess we’re stuck together now,” he said.
The array beneath him glowed once more, then gradually dimmed as the flow of energy slowed. Outside, the academy slept as Meliodas slowly recovered.
Inside the laboratory, surrounded by quiet runes and ancient stone, Meliodas remained seated, meditating through the night, and for the first time since arriving at the academy, his recovery was peaceful and not a struggle.
Meliodas opened his eyes and slowly pushed himself upright. As he stretched, he realized the sun was rising. Soft light filtered through the laboratory windows, birds chirping somewhere outside as the quiet warmth of early morning settled over him.
He breathed in deeply.
He glanced around the room. Once again, Professor Aurelius was nowhere to be found.
However, something else caught his attention.
A single piece of parchment lay on the table where Aurelius usually sat.
Meliodas walked over and picked it up.
Student Meliodas,
If you are reading this, it likely means you have made a full recovery.
I am relieved.
However, do be more careful in the future. Do not expect to be blessed with such extraordinary luck again. If I may theorize, you have likely exhausted a lifetime’s worth of it.
I had matters to discuss with the Headmaster and therefore left early.
Your classes will begin tomorrow. Your schedule should already be waiting in your dormitory room. You will also be permitted to choose several alternative classes, should you wish to do so.
Lastly, drink the tea I prepared for you and eat something. Running around on an empty stomach is unwise, especially after what you’ve endured.
— Professor Aurelius
As if on cue, Meliodas’ stomach growled loudly.
“…Traitor,” he muttered.
He looked back to the table. Beside the note sat a steaming cup of tea. Next to it rested a small platter holding soup and freshly baked bread.
Meliodas stared at the food for a moment, then smiled faintly.
“Guess I don’t get to ignore Professor's orders,” he said quietly.
He pulled out a chair and sat down.
At first, he ate slowly, savoring the warmth of the tea and soup as it slid down his throat and settled in his stomach. Only then did he realize just how hungry he truly was. His pace quickened. Bite after bite disappeared, and within minutes, the platter was empty.
Meliodas leaned back in the chair, exhaling softly, satisfaction washing over him. He allowed himself to laze there for a few quiet moments, eyes half-closed.
Then he felt it.
A small presence manifested beside him.
Meliodas opened his eyes and smiled.
“Morning, Owen. Sleep well?”
The familiar stretched lazily, drifting through the air as if it were a hammock, swaying without urgency. Meliodas laughed quietly at the sight. Owen responded by pointing one tiny arm toward the parchment on the table.
“Hm?” Meliodas reached for it again.
Only then did he notice writing on the back.
P.S. Your friend Tyka is currently in the hospital wing. No need for concern, only minor injuries. From what I have heard, he should be discharged by the afternoon.
Meliodas stiffened then relaxed as he finished reading.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he reclined fully into the chair once more.
“…What did you get yourself into this time, Tyka?”
Owen hummed softly, drifting in a slow circle above him.
Meliodas walked toward the Mage Plaza, Owen reclined comfortably against his neck and shoulder. The familiar seemed perfectly content, radiating warmth as it rested.
He remembered clearly that the hospital wing was located in the central building, the same that housed the dining hall and classrooms, separate from the dormitories. His steps were unhurried as he crossed the island’s pathways, taking in the landscape.
The warmth of the morning sun soaked into him, pleasant and grounding. After spending so much time confined within the cold stone walls of the laboratory, the open air felt almost luxurious.
As he passed the second-years’ plaza once more, he gave it a brief glance. Still empty.
“Huh,” he spoke softly. “Guess there’s really no one here.”
He continued on.
By the time he reached the Mage Plaza, the academy was only beginning to awake. It was still early. A handful of students were already awake, some jogging along the paths, others seated in quiet meditation.
Training, he assumed.
Meliodas slowed slightly, observing them for a moment before moving on.
He entered the main building, and just as he expected, it was crowded. The wide entrance opened directly into the dining hall, where students filled the space, eating, chatting, laughing. Small groups had already begun to form.
As he moved through the hall, he noticed the uniforms on the students more clearly. No two were quite the same.
His own consisted of robes and loose-fitting pants, while Tyka’s was far more practical he remembered, pants, a shirt, and a jacket suited for movement. Others wore variations somewhere in between. Meliodas quickly realized the uniforms weren’t standardized at all. They were tailored, shaped to each student’s specialization, their needs, their path.
Probably tied to their classes, he thought.
He shrugged and climbed the stairs without sparing the bustling hall another glance.
The corridors beyond were quieter. He passed a few students along the way, but none of them paid him any particular attention.
To his surprise, relief washed over him.
Back home, this would never have happened. No matter where he walked, people bowed, greeted him, lowered their eyes not out of affection, but obligation.
And I thought I was something special. Meliodas thought
A moment passed before he dismissed the thought.
“Not that it matters,” he said to himself.
Owen had retreated back into his core. Meliodas could still feel him there, a quiet presence beneath his thoughts. Excitement rippled through their connection he couldn’t quite tell how, but somehow the small familiar was experiencing the world through his senses, watching everything he did with eager curiosity.
After a few more turns and flights of stairs, Meliodas finally reached the medical wing.
He had just stepped inside when a familiar, high pitched voice echoed down the room.
“I’m fine. Really. I can leave now. I’ve got training to do and a friend to visit.”
“No, no, no, Mister Tyka,” another voice replied firmly, edged with exhaustion. “You most certainly cannot leave yet, and absolutely not to train. You need rest.”
Meliodas walked further in and saw the scene unfold.
Tyka was already stretching his arms, clearly preparing to get up, while a tired-looking figure, who Meliodas assumed was the healer, stood in front of him, doing their best to stop the half-giant from moving.
Meliodas raised a hand slightly and spoke up.
“Seems you’re doing just fine, Tyka.”
Tyka turned, then broke into a wide grin, lifting his own hand in return.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” he said. “You good now, sleepy prince?”
Meliodas rubbed a hand over his face and laughed softly.
“I missed you, bro.”
Tyka immediately pushed himself to his feet, the robed figure beside him moving at once to block his path.
“No, no stay seated,” the healer insisted, clearly strained. “You are not cleared to—”
Meliodas’ attention shifted to the healer, studying him more carefully now.
He was nearly as tall as Tyka and unmistakably blue. His hands were webbed, fingers connected by thick fins, with a dorsal fin running down his back. Though his head was mostly humanoid, his eyes were pitch black, and when he spoke, rows of sharp teeth flashed briefly, unmistakably shark-like.
An Aqualen, Meliodas thought.
Yet something about him felt strangely familiar.
Where had he seen someone like this before?
The shark-like humanoid suddenly froze. His dark eyes widened as they locked onto Meliodas.
“Third Prince Meliodas,” he said sharply, bowing low. “It is good to see you in good health. I was quite worried after Professor Adelion explained the situation.”
Meliodas blinked, startled.
“There’s no need for that,” he said quickly, hesitating. “Please—”
“Morvak,” the healer said, straightening slightly. “I studied under your mother’s guidance in Archypego.”
Meliodas stared at him, confusion flashing across his face.
“You’re… Archypegan?”
“Yes,” Morvak replied calmly. “I am, young prince.”
Meliodas shook his head at once.
“Please, just call me Meliodas. I’m not a prince here.”
Morvak paused, clearly uncertain, then slowly nodded as he rose to his full height.
“Very well,” he said. “Mister Meliodas.”
A moment passed. Then Tyka grinned broadly.
“May I also salute you, Your Majesty?” he said, bowing deeply with exaggerated flair.
Morvak’s gaze snapped to Tyka, his expression sharpening, clearly on the verge of delivering a scolding.
Before he could speak, laughter cut through the room.
Meliodas was laughing.
After a moment, he looked up at Tyka just as the half giant stepped closer, hands raised theatrically in the air. Meliodas met it with a light bump to Tyka's chest, amusement still lingering in his eyes.
“Good one, bro,” Meliodas said, grinning.
“Comedy is one of my many hidden talents,” Tyka replied with a wide grin as he slung an arm around Meliodas’ shoulders in an easy embrace.
Morvak watched the exchange for a moment, then his stern expression softened into a smile.
“It is good to see,” he said, “that you have made good friends, Mister Meliodas.”
Meliodas and Tyka walked across the grounds outside, their voices fading as Morvak watched them from a window above.
A small smile tugged at his mouth.
It was a wise decision to send the young prince here, Queen Maera, he thought.
His mind drifted to memories of Meliodas from years past, a frightened boy, always tense, always watching the world as if it might strike him at any moment. Joy had been a rare thing then. Smiles even rarer. He could count on one hand the times he had seen one.
And never like today.
“I’m glad,” Morvak murmured quietly.
His gaze lingered a moment longer before shifting, his thoughts turning to the towering boy at Meliodas’ side.
“That giant, though… he truly is something else.”
Morvak said softly to himself.
“Can’t even keep him resting properly. Young ones, impatient as ever.”
He turned away from the window, looking back over the empty hall behind him. It wouldn’t stay that way for long.
With a tired sigh, Morvak straightened.
“I suppose,” he said to no one in particular, “it’s about to get very busy around here.”
