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92.59% Screw the Plot! I'll Save the Villain! / Chapter 25: Chapter 26

Capítulo 25: Chapter 26

When the sun was a palm above the horizon, Randell and the General rose with it. Neither were ones to linger in the morning, so soon after washing and dressing themselves, both went to start their day.

Kissing his lover a brief goodbye, the General headed for the clinic to see the doctor for treatment under the guise of a routine check up.

Since he was injured, the General had clearly hidden the amount of discomfort his hand brought him, especially to Randell. How could he allow for such a 'small' inconvenience to prevent him from having intimate time with his lover?

On his way to the clinic, the General unexpectedly ran into his son whose direction was the same.

"Morning, father. I hope you slept well," Jamie greeted. His smile was brightly beaming from a good night's rest. As soon as he woke up, he already had his day planned. 

The General nodded and walked beside his son. "Good morning." Quietly looking to the left, right, above, and behind, there was no sign of the raven-haired child that provided a great deal of mental pain less than twenty-four hours ago. On the surface, the General's face remained as calm as a lake, but internally, he was pleased.

Yesterday, taking information was like prying teeth from the child.

"Can I go now?" Gone from the young master's side for nearly two hours, Cieran was already impatient. He didn't tell them everything he knew, but enough so that his interrogators could stop pestering him about things he did not wish to answer.

The General gave him a nod, letting the child go free. 

But as soon as he turned around, he sent new orders stating that starting tomorrow - which was today - Gale and Isla would bring the boy with them to the training grounds.

Partially pardoned from their punishment, the two guards were only happy to do so. They didn't have much time to waste when spring conscription was just around the corner. Unlike many other armies, the competition under the Marquis of Claudius' banner was tough and merciless. If there were 500 spots open, they would never take 501. 

Just like scholars cramming for the imperial exam, there wasn't a second to waste.

This is why Cieran was off somewhere running laps and not following the young master around like a little tail.

"Where are you off to right now?" Side by side, the father and son walked. Slowing his pace, the General matched his steps to the boy who only reached his waist.

"Remember how I said I started reading the books in Doctor Imire's collection? Well, I was hoping to find an anthology for plants."

The General nodded and remembered a key point he had forgotten to ask about. "You seem to have no problems when reading. Did you have a teacher?"

Finding himself caught in a trap, Jamie's mind came to a stutter. It seemed he had forgotten that literacy was an invaluable treasure and he was supposed to be a poor orphan boy from the countryside.

Unable to deny this, he could only say the truth. "O-oh. Yes... but .. I'm not that proficient so..." Well, part of the truth.

The General keenly smelled something fishy, but didn't pull off the boy's cover. The relationship of the father and son was still fresh. It was best to strengthen their bond rather than pry his son's secrets - obviously, he didn't hold those same reservations toward other children.

Cieran who was currently frog leaping across a field while holding basket a stones above of his head, "..."

"If you have any questions, you can always come to me or Avery. We were waiting for a time for you to adapt before choosing a tutor for you. But seeing as how you are already very studious, I'll have your Uncle look into it right away."

The General's words were earnest, but Jamie couldn't help but cry internally. Although it was true that he liked to study, it was mostly toward topics he enjoyed. 

Now he was going to go through a whole knew level of education. Studying in this world was, according to the story, 'a constant recitation of things one cannot understand until one understands...' Even Jamie had to sympathize with the protagonist for the grueling rotary way of teaching he had to go through...

With an ugly smile, he gratefully gave his thanks, "...Yes... I will work hard." He promised his father on their way to the Capital that he would do his best to support the name of the Marquis. And being a man of his word, he couldn't back down.

"As long as you do your best, that is all I ask for." The bitterness in the youth's voice couldn't be hidden and Jedrick withheld his amusement. It seemed the child was not much different from his younger self at all.

The aversion to schooling was in the blood of the Lovel family. Of course each descendant seized the opportunities when given - education was a privilege and gift - but no hot blooded son of the Marquis of Claudius household had the mental wiring to endure hours upon hours of scholarly torture out of fun and righteousness.

The doctor was already awake and sipping away on his morning cup of tea when the master and young master arrived. 

"Good morning, sir. Good morning, young master."

"Good morning, Doctor. Has the brew been prepared?" Jedrick asked. It was a few days after halfway through of the month and his hand was already curling in on itself. Last night, he tried to hide the deadened thing well, but by morning, his fingers were already forming a fist.

The doctor saw the child looking at the gloved hand with interest and understood the General was giving permission to speak openly. "Yes. I've kept some from a few weeks ago. Please wait a moment while I go and heat it up."

The doctor left and Jamie tentatively asked, "Does it hurt?"

Looking down at his palms, the General shook his head. "No. Not anymore." Just a little, he folded the top of the glove to reveal a small area of flesh. Partly blackened and scaled with keratinized skin, it wasn't something that belonged to a human's body.

Jamie's brows furrowed. His mind wasn't focused on the repulsive skin, but the mien of the hand as a whole.

After suffering from her first stroke, his grandma had a similar problem in terms of mobility. She was able to walk around and live, to an extent, a normal life, but the lack of medical care left her with a weak left hand that was unable to open and close.

Later, when Jamie grew up, he learned from his grandfather that she could have gone to a physical therapist or a specialist for this... but raising a child in old age was expensive. Paying for books and saving for Jamie's education was much more important...

When his grandfather fell down their front porch steps, he was bedridden for months. And no matter how stubborn the old man was, Jamie was sure to pay - with his meager college funds - for the best physical therapist at the hospital. While he cheered for his grandpa on the side, Jamie learned a few massaging techniques and exercises from other patients working hard... He planned to keep these in mind for when his grandfather was released from the hospital...

Unfortunately, the man passed away not long after recovering.

For a long time, the child was quiet while remembering unpleasant events.

Mistaking the silence as disgust, Jedrick had to sigh. He himself didn't like looking at it, but it was best to prepare the child for the future... When the time came when treatment no longer worked...

Not wishing to think of the inevitable, he began to cover the decrepit skin.

He didn't expect for the child to stop him.

"Can I touch?" The child raised his head to look at him with eyes as clear as a lake. 

The General took a moment before nodding. The doctor had told him many times that the skin wasn't infectious. The reason he kept it covered was for his own mental state and so the world wouldn't know. 

Slowly, every ugly thing hidden beneath was revealed. Jamie studied the hideous hand. And with his own unsoiled fingers as perfect as polished jade, the fist was carefully unfurled.

Multiple times, Jamie checked his father's face to see if this caused any pain, but all he saw was the usual scary, yet endearing, expression.

Little by little, the palm was opened.

And just the first time he saw a certain flaming red-haired boy, an odd sense befell him. Time seemed to have stopped and the pieces he had yet to collect of this world were scattered even further from him.

Within the palm was a mark... 

It was something all too familiar to him. Something that shouldn't exist in this world...

On a perfect day where the sun shined and the sky was clear, a bolt of lightning struck him.

Unable to contain his honest thoughts, Jamie uttered some surprising words... "What the fuck?"


REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES
Goosey_Goo Goosey_Goo

Small Theater:

Cieran: (who had been working since dawn) "..."

Author: "Sorry... at least I mentioned you."

Cieran: (takes a few rocks from the basket he's been exercising with and steps closer.)

Author: "Hey. Hey. Hey. I don't control the story. I give you all free will to do whatever you want."

Cieran: (continues closer under his own free will)

Gale and Isla: "Yo, kid. It's time for lunch. If you want food, you better hurry up."

Cieran who is very food motivated: (scurries away)

Author who was almost stoned to death: Phew. Better increase his training to keep the boy busy. Can't let this child grow crooked.

Future Cieran: grows crooked.... very crooked.

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