14 the runaway (II)

Careth fell to his knees in defeat when he saw the solid, tangible and irrefutable evidence that lay scattered on the floor. There was absolutely no way of going back from this. Sir Felluor had figured out that Careth was going to run away, and he had caught him red-handed.

"Seems like you're going far, far away. You even need a map. Are you going to have a personal vacation, Careth? Without telling any of the adults?"

Grandmaster Willdyer stared down at him with contempt. Careth managed to avoid looking into his eyes, but he wondered what use will it do now—his grandfather saw through him as clear as crystal the moment he found the sack.

"Looks like you know more than you let on, boy," Sir Felluor said, inching forward and grabbed Careth by his hair. "I'm going to have to teach you a lesson, like old times, yeah? I had more faith in you, Ca—"

He cut off abruptly, and Careth lifted his eyes just in time to witness the towering physique of his grandfather falling towards him, and he dashed to the side as Sir Felluor collapsed on the ground. Careth covered his mouth in shock when he saw blood trickling from his grandfather's ears.

"Get up! We don't have time!"

Rian wrung and massaged his wrist, glaring at Careth who was shocked ten times over. "Well? Hurry!"

Careth heeded his orders without hesitation and swept the paraphernalia back into the sack, grabbed his food bag and followed Rian. They returned to his room, and Rian jumped down from the window first before helping Careth get down. Rian then created a distraction by producing the growls of a Drewl at the gates, turning the guards' attention away from the forest. When he was satisfied, they sprinted to the forest front, running past the marigold meadow at breakneck speed.

The duo arrived at the opening of Witherblaire Forest and rested to catch their breaths. But it was not long before Rian said, "Let's get in quickly. I can only distract the guards for so long."

"But wait! Where's Merry?"

Careth looked around frantically, wishing he'd see her figure rushing towards them from his window. But as his precious seconds passed by unforgivingly, Careth still did not see her.

"We're not waiting for her. I'll protect you in the forest so you won't need a weapon. Hurry up and get in!" Rian exclaimed impatiently.

"What if she got caught? Rian, you go and find her. I'll enter myself—"

Their conversation was cut short when Careth's vision suddenly turned black.

"I- I can't see! Rian? Rian?" He called out.

"Careth? Damn it! Shi-"

Careth felt a gush of wind brush past his shoulders, and as he groped around the air with his hands, he couldn't get hold of Rian who was in front of him.

Who was supposed to be in front of him.

"Rian? Rian?" He called out again, but this time there was no answer.

As he was enveloped in darkness, he felt a hand grip on his right arm firmly, and another one on his left, and soon he was being dragged away from the forest's direction. Careth deduced that it was not Rian who was pulling him away, for these hands seemed to be larger and tougher than a teenager, and the only people who fit this description currently were the guards from the gate.

"What are you doing? Let go! Let go this instant!" He tried to shove them aside, but it was no use. "You're hurting me! I'm telling Father about this!"

A deep voice responded. "Young master, do forgive our imprudence, but it is Master Willdyer who ordered us to bring you in."

This fact smashed his newly rebuilt confidence into pieces yet again. "Father... Father knows?" He said weakly, and stopped fighting back.

As he felt his feet touch concrete, the guards let go of the boy, and he stood unmoving. Careth could hear footsteps approaching from the front, and as though his eyes were uncovered softly by cloth, his vision returned. He was standing in front of Master Willdyer, who wore an expression that was the painful combination of disappointment, anger and humiliation contorted into his old, weathered face.

"Thank you. Leave us, please," he instructed the guards and they retracted at once.

Silence passed between them, and Careth waited for him to speak, because he certainly had no energy left to utter a word. Master Willdyer sensed his behaviour. "What were you doing so near Witherblaire? And what's with this luggage? You seem to be running away."

"I..." the boy started, steadying his breath. Alas, he admitted. "I was running away."

"Why?"

"Because... because I hated living as an heir."

Master Willdyer raised his eyebrow, not expecting this answer. "Come again?"

"I hated the classes. I hated the fact that I cannot enjoy anything other than my duties. And everyone expects me to be perfect, which I'm not!" Careth didn't know where he was going, but he still would not spill about the Tradition, unless his father questioned him directly. And what he blurted was true and from his heart as well. "A normal kid gets to play in the fields, read anything he wants and eat anything he wants. But I have schedules everyday, I'm expected to obey every rule, and I can only eat what is instructed. It's not fair!"

"Careth, you know it is because you will be the future heir who is in charge of governing the town—"

"Why me? Why?!" He shouted, and it was the first time ever, in his life, that Careth had screamed at someone. Master Willdyer was baffled.

"I never asked for this. I never asked for any of this. I just want... a simple life," tears cascaded down his cheeks. "Where I can be with who I want. Do what I want. I never wanted to be born into his household..."

His father was at loss of words. Careth wiped his tears and looked at him with resolution. "Pardon my outburst, Father, but that's how I really feel. I'm tired of always performing my best, and getting belittled when I don't. I'm tired of trying to be the son you'll be proud of, when you don't even care. I'm tired of being the heir, when all my efforts are only expected and never appreciated."

He walked away, heading to his room. However, his path was soon blocked by a towering, plump gentleman who was wiping his ears with a white handkerchief stained with blood.

Sir Felluor was outraged. His round face was red with fury, almost as red as the crimson dribbling down from his ears. He bared his crooked teeth like a wild animal, ready to devour and rip open his prey mercilessly and violently.

"You... you sly, sly boy," he snarled, striding towards him and seizing Careth's shoulder. "I don't know how you did it, but I am real mad right now."

"Father, please," Master Willdyer pleaded, genuinely perturbed.

He shot the man a deathly glare. "Don't mind, Terrell. He needs to be punished one way or another. And it turns out I have that expertise," Sir Felluor grinned, and Careth remembered that same sinister look years ago, when the grandmaster had substituted for his father for a whole month at the manor. "I'll make sure Careth learns his lesson."

He bit his lip to endure the pain his grandfather was inflicting, for the bruise on his shoulder had not completely recovered. As Careth was forced away from his father, frightened and petrified, Master Willdyer could only look, and hope for the best.

Merry's eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw was the luminescent rays of moonlight penetrating the room. She sat up the next second, scanned her surroundings, and noticed one bed to her side, a cabinet at the back of the room, and a worktable in front of her.

Despite being in a strange room, Merry didn't bother to evaluate her situation further and got down, rushing to the door. But before she could twist the doorknob, a voice called out to her.

"Hey! Don't leave!"

She ignored it, as right now Careth must be in trouble as he didn't have his weapon. His weapon! Merry cussed under her breath. With no choice, she turned to the source of the sound, revealing a woman with dark skin and hazel eyes clad in a uniform that resembled a nurse.

"You have it, don't you?" Merry said. "Tell me what you want. I'll do it after you give me the gun."

"My, a child shouldn't be playing around with firearms, don't you think?" The nurse walked towards her, spinning the pistol with her fingers.

Merry was pushed for time. "Just tell me what you want and I'll do it. But give me the gun, now."

"Feisty, you are." She bent down so they were eye-to-eye. "The guards have already caught him. It's too late."

Once again, as children learn from people older than them, the curse Rian said flashed through her mind. She clenched her fists and reached up to snatch the pistol, but the nurse stepped back swiftly.

"Hold on, hear me out first!" She said, and Merry stopped advancing on her. "Child, my name is Rosetta, and I want to help you. The both of you."

"Why?" Merry snapped. "What kind of benefits will you gain? A promotion? Recognition?"

Nurse Rosetta sighed. "I don't gain anything. I just want to help you get the young master out of this place."

Merry was not convinced. Noticing this, the nurse handed her the gun and explained. "I've been treating the Willdyers for a while now. Since the current master's time. And I've seen what they did to the young lady. I... had to do an autopsy on her."

"Who are you talking about?" Merry took the gun.

"The master's late sister. Lady Lillian Willdyer."

After a pause, she continued. "I've made up my mind that I do not want to come across another dead body of an heir again. I'm supposed to treat them and make them feel better, but if the heir doesn't turn out to be Blessed, all I'm doing is delaying the pain they might experience. And that's just wicked."

Merry nodded. "I understand. But how can I trust you? How do I know you're not just faking and acting all of this?"

Nurse Rosetta turned and went to her worktable, searching thoroughly before holding up a file. "I know how Careth will be killed. Is that enough proof for you?"

This stunned the girl, but she quickly recovered and got ahold of the file, protecting it as though it was precious treasure. She held it tightly and said, "You'll have to tell me verbally what everything says as I'm still quite poor at reading. But don't try to fool me, because I will know."

The nurse smiled. "I guess that means we're working together. What's your name, child? Your real one, of course."

She sucked a breath. "Marylith. Marylith Gensweathe."

"That's a nice name. Now come here. I will tell you exactly how the young master will meet his doom."

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