The First Son of the Count's Family

Chapter 1 :Deep, Deep below (March 29 - April 4, 781)

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(Flashback or a little Character''s  Aside)

"Thoughts, ancient power dialogue"

-Telepathy-

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It was March 29, Year 781 of the Felix calendar.

Not that Cale Henituse really knew because dates never really mattered

Every day, Cale had a routine.

Wake up.

Ignore Ron's attempts to wake him up.

Go back to sleep.

Wake up again, long after the breakfast his father tries to call him to.

Change, eat, and go out to drink.

And, late at night, return back to sleep.

Every day was the same routine, each day blurring into one long year that was the same as the year before and the other year before that.

Sometimes, things were different.

Once in a while, Cale would let Ron wake him up, he would let himself to join the breakfast, and he would eat silently with a grumpy scowl to try to discourage his father from doing so ever gain. (his father would never learn and would still invite him to those awkward family braekfast that would have been better without him.)

sometimes, Cale would stay t home instead of going to town to drink. (And cale would never know which was worse-going out on a rainy day like she had or staying home with frightened servants who flinch at a single and stupid kids who stare t him from a far (trash, he was trash, why won't you ever learn-). )

And sometimes, cale would cause a ruckus. (Blacklisted in the hearts of merchants. A nightmare to every shopkeeper and bar tavern. Hated by every knight and decent man who only wouldn't hurt him out of their respect for his stupidly doting father.)

It was his eighteenth year of living.

It was his third year of drinking.

It was his tenth year of acting like trash.

walking through the emptying streets (curious children peeking through curtains to be pulled back by their mothers with frantic whispers) (an ignorant man looking up and then stumbling at the sight of him, tripping over and landing hard onto cobblestone) (doors subtly closing, leaving signs of 'Going on Break', 'Out for Lunch', 'Closed',....)

walking through the emptied streets, cale henituse wondered if his eighteenth year would be the same as all the others. if his nineteenth, his twentieth, his thirtieh...

"Damn, that last bottle of wine was strong last night. I must still be having a fucking hangover from it."

What a stupid question.

It would be the same.

Not once had cale ever forgotten his decision.

Ten years have passed, many more to go, maybe one day, someone will-

Cale's thoughts stopped. Unintentionally, abruptly. For some reason, he couldn't remember what the was going to think next. What was he hoping someone would do?