Chapter Text
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈,
𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍.
❄︎❄︎❄︎
"I am going to Harris Village by tomorrow."
Deruth lifted his head instantly, eyes staring at his first-born son who is now nonchalantly playing the soup with a spoon. The others can't help but also peeked curiously at the red head.
"...Cale...is there... something you need ...in Harris?"
Because there is no reason for Cale to visit Harris. It is the last place Jour visited before she finally breathed her last breath.
The red head lifted his head to look at the count right in the eyes. A small mischief smile was formed on his face, "There is something I need to do there. Something.....for my soul."
No.
No.
NO.
Deruth stared at the red head in disbelief. His breath stopped as he's taking in the look on Cale's face.
It can't be.
It was the exact expression on Jour face.
And Cale also said the exact thing as Jour when Deruth asked what piqued her sudden plan to visit Harris.
"Why Harris?" Deruth asked, eyes blinking in confusion at his wife.
Jour just smiled in mischief, eyes twinkling and her index finger right on her own rosy lips.
"Something for my soul."
"You can't!"
The count stood as abruptly as he shouted. It took him a few seconds to notice all eyes was on him, staring at him with a surprised expression. Then he took a deep breath to calm himself and looked at Cale.
"You can't."
He said again, this time with a much softer tone, but stern.
Cale stared back at the count, his reddish-brown orbs observing the older male's frantic expression. It is never the count nature to ever turn down his first-born son's wishes. But then again, there is always the first time for anything.
So the red-head decided to pity his father and not push his plan to visit Harris Village anymore.
"Is that soooooo? Then I will visit mom graves after this."
Deruth paused for a moment, staring at the red-head with much puzzlement. The mention of his late-wife graves caught him off guard and he couldn't help but to feel guilt consuming him again. He wondered when was the last time he stepped his feet to his late-wife graves.
Cale swept his eyes around all the occupants in the room which quickly evaded his eyes as their gaze met with the red head's. He tried not to laugh as he sensed curiosity from those gazes.
"Am I not allowed to do that also?"
"...no...of course not, Cale." The count sat back, face stricken with guilt as he tried to look anywhere except the piercing gaze from his first-born son.
But Cale didn't have in his mind to care about the other thoughts of him, so he just nodded in satisfaction, smiling slightly as he drank his soup.
Watching Cale back to his soup, the others continue to enjoy their breakfast. All the earlier topics were dismissed, but still they can't help but keep peeking at the red-head, many questions lingering in their mind.
What does Cale mean by he needs to do something for his soul in Harris? Violan was deep in her thoughts, she glanced at her husband before deciding to dig more details from Deruth later as he showed unusual reactions when Cale announced his plan to visit Harris.
Basen absent-mindedly poking at the honey-coated fruits in his bowl, eyes carefully taking some peeks at the red-head. Is hyung...going to meet someone in Harris? But, he said he will go to his mom's grave instead after father said no.
While the servants who stood around them made secret communications with their eyes about what just transpired.
I s this related to the young master secret lover?
Maybe the young master plans to have a secret rendezvous in Harris?
They have many speculations in their heads, but never dared to bring it up, fearing the red-head short temper will snap again.
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It doesn't matter whether the count gives him permission or not.
Cale always gets what he wants one way another. Whether it's money or getting away from murders.
𝒚𝒆𝒔, 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓..𝒐𝒓.... 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓?
After the war in Henituse territories, the county was brought to ruins.
The lively bustling streets was now a history, mangled and burnt corpses sprawled around the once prosperous land.
The 'heroes' turned blind eyes to Henituse since they practically have more important territories to defend.
Cale swung his swords mindlessly, annihilating every moving object that got in his way.
He killed and killed every Paerun's troops. He swung and swung his swords like a mad man.
An archer at 11'0 clock. Two Paerun knights approaching him from his left side and one from his right side.
Kill, he said to himself. Kill until none of those bastards left.
Two heads rolled on the ground, while the other struggled on his breath after Cale slashed shallowly his neck, not enough to fully dislodged his head from his neck.
Don't stop, Cale. He told himself.
Swung your sword faster, until your humerus bone split and your muscles atrophy. Until your arms falls off, until your heart stopped beating.
Cale took a few steps behind, before running as fast as possible. He flat-out threw one of the swords in his grasp toward his target.
A horrified scream heard from distance, and the archer was down. He cried out in pain, one hand holding to his right side of face. Cale swords have penetrated through his eyes and skulls.
Don't stop .
He crawled and cried for mercy as he sensed the red-head started approaching.
But it's not enough.
The earth has turned to ash, and the air smells of death.
The cries of mercy from the Pareuns' could not give Cale back his dead families.
This is still not enough.
The red-head just stood there, watching in slight amusement as the archer crawled pathetically, and tried to get away from him. The archer is a man in his mid thirtieth with a tattoo on his left side of face. His gray hair was tied to a ponytail and his hard-toned body covered mostly with scars and tattoos which actually will make him look intimidating if not for him crawled on all four like animals as he try to reach at his bows that were knocked from his grasp earlier.
After a minute that felt like hours, the archer almost cried in relief when he finally reached his bow. With a trembling hand, he turned, intending to brandish his weapon against the red-head, however Cale was already right behind him, staring at him with glint of madness in his eyes.
For seconds, they just stayed like that. The archer was still on all four on the ground while Cale stood just behind him, watching his every movement like predator ready to pounce on its target. The older male started to whimper in fear as he watched something changed on the red-head expression. His whole body quivered and his breath had become uncontrollably erratic. In his panic, he reflectively lifted his bow, attempting to aim at Cale.
"Don't come any closer!"
The older male shouted, his left hand holding his bow while his elbow supporting his upper body.
Watching the male attempt to threaten him with Cale's' sword still buried deep in one of the archer eye sockets, Cale couldn't help but start chuckling to himself.
Ahh---- there is it.
The image of the archer is so absurdly hilarious that the red-head feels the corner of his lips start to twitch and from a distance, he could hear the sound of someone laughing faintly.
The laughing slowly becomes louder and louder and starts turning to hysterical cackles while the archer's facial expression turns twisted in eerie. His whole body trembled violently and he couldn't take his only eye off from Cale's face.
Curious with what the archer saw on his own face, Cale touched the corner of his mouth only to realize he is grinning widely from cheeks to cheeks and the hysterical laugh actually came from him himself.
----so that is how it is.
Cale took one step forward.
He is actually enjoying this.
"Stop! Don't come any closer---"
Cale stomps on the archer head, pulling the sword out from his skulls. A deafening scream rang in the air which Cale took delight consuming the terrified expression of the archer.
The sword parted from the limbs with squelch. The red-head once again lifted his sword and---
Slash!
In seconds, blood is spattered in the air. The red-head wiped the blood splattered on his face carelessly with the handkerchief, while the archer went limp on the ground. His head rolled a few meters from Cale feet, his face was contorted with horrified expression, eyes bulging from eye sockets with mouth gaping with drools and blood streamed to the ground.
The air starts to reek the smell of blood and piss which Cale pays no heed to.
With two swords in both his grasps, the red-head slowly makes his way to the North.
...
When Cale comes back to his senses, he is all alone, laying on the ground. A layer of thick snow was covering his body like a blanket. The blades in his grasp have broken and his knuckles are already covered with blisters and smeared with blood. His body ached, and he could feel that every muscle in his body screamed when he tried to get up.
The sky cried blood.
And the North has turned to land of red.
Amidst all of it, Cale stood there.
The building has been stumbling and crumbling to the earth, blood spattered all over the ruins.
Thick black smoke covered the city, isolating Paeruns' from the world outside.
The smell of ashes seeped through his nostrils, mouth and went through to his lungs, causing the red-head starting to cough in discomfort.
The red-head starts to blink his eyes when thick smoke has also started to penetrate his view. Eyes reddening from the thick smoke, Cale looks around the wide path from the plaza, trying to look if there is for any sign of living.
He was about to start walking, when an awful stench radiated toward him. Cale stopped abruptly, searching for the source of this foul odor. He followed the stench which led him to a large dry lake at the northern corner of Bago City. The large lake appeared once if you followed the wide path from the plaza. The bottom of the completely dry lake was full of cracks. The size of it was pretty much a third of Bago City.
And indeed, soon Cale found himself standing in front of the lake, but instead of an empty dry lake, Cale was greeted by the sight of a towering pile of human carcasses.
The ones at the bottom were covered with soil and blood. Their features are without doubt, unrecognizable and squished due to the crushing weight from the bodies above them. They appeared to be nothing more than oddly minced flesh. The ones at top had thick ashes and snows covering their bodies, with missing body parts that once oozed blood and other bodily fluids. Those liquids were connecting with each other forming a small stream which was flowing down, filling up the once dry lake, into a freezing lake of blood.
Cale turned his head from the dreadful scene as his stomach was about to omit whatever was left from his stomach. He resisted the impulse to retch, which failed. He stumbled on the ground, and a wave of nausea hit him. A sick noise came out of his throat, his right hand automatically went to cover his mouth; he chocked, gagged, shut his eyes, kneeling and a thick rush of fluid filling his mouth, spilled out, splashed on the ground.
His brown orbs dully watched as his vomits disintegrated with the snow. The nauseating smell grew thicker in the air. Cale crawled a few steps behind, before sitting on the ground, back facing the pile of mountain corpses.
The red head could feel himself sweating profusely and his clothes that he just realized were drenched in blood and sweat. The smell was so nauseating that he kept gagging.
Eyes were cloudy. His vision is spinning, everything around him turned to a blotch of brown and blue. Staggering around. So dizzy. Every time he moved, his head would start swimming.
The red head coughed, gasped, and retched. He kept puking until there was nothing left except his own spit. Ignoring the drools trailed down to his chin, Cale took a long breath to calm himself, trying to get rid of the gruesome image he just saw out of his head.
For some minutes, he just sat on the ground like that.
When he felt better, Cale tried to get to his feet, but his knees were so damn weak and he fell. He grimaced as he could taste soil in his mouth. There is also sourness left after he puked. He needs something to cleanse the disgusting taste.
Swallowing thickly, Cale looks around him, trying to find any source of water. But there is nothing except the blood pooled in the lake. He wanted to walk back to the plaza, but he is too weak to do so.
He was all alone. Alone, cold, tired and hungry. Ah----
He was hungry.
Cale can't remember when was the last time he ate.
The red head wasn't a stranger to starvation. Multiple times, he had tried to depraved himself of food and drinkable liquid so he could die.
It wasn't an enjoyable experience.
Starvation is the most painful way to die.
His stomach will growl from time to time, it ached and then seems to stop but only for a while. It always comes back a few minutes later.
Even if he try to sleep, sometimes it gives him - only false consolation, to conserve some energy. But he will wake up to excruciating pain, and once he does, he will not be able to sleep again. Not for a long while. He will move from right to the left side of his bed as he struggles with the excruciating pain. The pain will usually start from his stomach and chest and creep toward his ribs. Time seems to move slower than it should.
Even if he drank water, it only calmed his stomach down but only for a while. The pain will come back, and the pain will double, even worse than before. As if it was punishing him for fooling himself.
And when that happens, Cale will take his wrist to his own mouth. Biting and gnawing at his own flesh, chewing on his bones until the pain on his wrist exceeds the pain from starvation. He hummed in satisfaction as warm blood spilled to his mouth.
The taste of metallic iron comforted his sense of taste, Cale released his bite on his wrist, sighing in relief as a wave of serenity washing over him. Drowning in the familiar pain p̶l̶e̶a̶s̶u̶r̶e̶ of self-harming, Cale finally can close his eyes and continue his beauty sleep.
The next morning, Ron will wake him up with a bowl of warm soup. His injured wrist was already patched up professionally, and the older male insisted until Cale just give up and drop his attempt to starve himself.
He only ate because he never saw such an expression on the older male face. He looks like so worried and---it is guilt that Cale sense?
This is just awkward--- Haaaaaaaa---- Anyway it's too late now, Cale doesn't need any help. Ron's guilt won't help Cale with the predicament he is in.
The red-head looked away, eyes focusing on his soup, determined to not waste a single drop of it.
Of course it is because Beacrox's food tastes so damn good and smells like heaven.
Not because he didn't want to see the anxious expression on Ron's face.
Days will continue just like that, Ron will never ask him about what happened. They will just pretending as everything is okay. As there is nothing wrong happened.
Cale laughed at those memories.
How ironic.
Back then in Henituse, he was never lacking in food. Poultry, beef, fish, cheese, exotic meat, wine, imported fruits. Everything is within his reach. Anything he want, will be served to him. Yet he chose to depraved himself of all of those. He refused to consume anything or swallowing any liquid in his conquest to be closer to his own death.
But now, here is him.
All alone. Stranded in a foreign land.
Suffering from starvation and dehydration.
Maybe this is the punishment from God. For his impudence.
Or....this could be the perfect time to starve himself to death.
There is no Ron who will be concerned about him.
He had left Cale, bringing Beacrox along to follow Choi Han.
The countess had died after taking an arrow from Paeruns' which intended to end Cale's life.
There will also be no Basen or Lily who thought's Cale never notices it when they secretly peeking at the red head. They also have left, not long after the countess breathed her final breath.
F̶a̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ The count had also died as he joined the battlefield, directly leading the Henituse troops against Paeruns'.
There isn't any reason for Cale to live.
Everyone who Cale loves always either left or died.
It will be so easy to give up.
It will be so easy for Cale just to lay down and await his own death.
It will be so easy for Cale to become one with the earth. Buried deep down and disintegrated with the soils.
But he can't die yet.
The red head slowly lays his body down on the ground.
There is still something he needs to do.
His lips feels awfully dry, and he unconsciously licks them yet they seem to feel dry again a split second after he licked them.
At least, he still needs to give a proper burial for his families .
Cale hollow eyes staring at the sky in fatigue. His head ached as if it was being spun around.
Faintly, he heard the sound of his stomach growling.
It hurts.
It aches.
It feels like he was being stabbed from insides, his lower abdomen being ripped and his organ tissues were being skinned. The throbbing pain started to radiate to his rib cages, leaving him grimaced in pain.
The low temperature in the north was not helping him either. Cale could hear the sound of his teeth cackling from the cold.
In his misery, his brain starts talking to him. To start finding a way to obtain anything to eat.
But there is nothing.
The Paeruns' is basically an ice field. The soil was mostly covered in snow, ashes, and blood.
There is nothing around him which can fill his empty stomach.
He tried to ignored the increasing aches in his abdomen, but his mind kept pondering to discover anything to eat. He needs something in his mouth, anything as long as it can appease the growing pain. Anything as long as it can stop the feeling of pain from hunger.
Grabbing a mass of snow in his hand, Cale had a fleeting thought to eat the snow. However the snow was too cold against his skin, and his fingers freezes just by short contact.
It's not pleasant.
He assesses all possible ways of getting food and none of them seem to be promising. There seems to be nothing he can do, he started contemplating on why something like this must happen to him. He tried to recall the last food he's eaten, the food that he has refused to eat. And he started feeling regret.
why didn't I enjoy that last piece of meat when I still had the chance?
The red head sighed, shook his head at those desperate thoughts, trying to keep his mind sane. He put his right thumb inside his mouth, biting and sucking on it as the hunger became more and more unbearable.
What should I eat?
Anything. Anything is fine.
In his distraught, Cale's gaze falls on a corpse nearby.
He was hungry. Very, very hungry. He didn't care anymore. He was too desperate. He was hungry, hungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungry ......
HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY.
HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY. HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY.HUNGRY.
.
.
.
..
...
crunch.
munch. munch. munch.
gulp.
Cale nearly weeps in gratefulness as he feels the flesh go through his throat, fresh blood damped his once dry throat.
Ignoring the cool sensation in his stomach, he took the second bite.
It's kinda hard for the first time because the outer layer of skin is mostly covered in frost, but once he bites into the flesh, thick fresh blood spill like juice to his mouth. And Cale can't help but to appreciate each single bite - even as he eats like a medieval barbarian, totally without his usual proper table manner. Blood spilled to the corner of his mouth,. dripping down to his chin and neck, but Cale doesn't bother.
Both of his hands were holding at the limbs as he dined at the flesh. Cale tries as much as he can to make sure it lasts, he doesn't want to experience hunger again. He gnawed, sucking, licking until there was nothing left except the bone.
The feeling of having a full stomach brings him so much joy, and at the same time almost brings him to tears when he thinks of how things were before they became what they are now.
Cale is just about to take another body limbs from the corpses when he hears the sound of someone's breath hitched.
"Yo---Young master..."
There, hiding behind a dead dry tree was Hans. Deputy butler of the Henituse family who was assigned to him after the thing with Choi Han happened.
Alas, the sight of someone he was familiar with brought a small smile to Cale's face.
"Shall we go back home, Hans?" He asked, mouth still dripping with blood and cheeks still smeared with ash and frost.
The orange haired male hesitantly nodded, albeit still looking mortified at what he had witnessed.
"Yeah...to home."
.
"Hans."
"Yes, Young master?" The orange haired male frowned, casting a confused glance toward the younger male before focusing on the path ahead.
They had been riding on the horse side by side for around one hour. Or maybe two hours? Cale didn't know. The sky had been cloudy all the time so he can't really tell. The journey back to Henituse county was grim. Hans was oddly quiet and his expression was pale, strained the whole time. The orange-haired male didn't say a word to Cale, instead he just seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.
"These people...who killed them?"
Hans tensed at that question. He quickly averted his eyes down to the ground, suddenly the path which laid disordered corpses became very appealing to him.
For minutes, he struggled to find words to say. "Young master....you don't...remember?"
The red head raised one of his fine brows at the latter, irritated at the older male odd behavior. "If I had remembered, I wouldn't have asked you, Hans."
The Deputy butler clenched his jaws, stubbornly choosing to deny Cale any answers.
"Hans."
Cale pulled his halters, stopping his horse steps on track.
"Young master?" Realizing, Cale was no longer riding by his side, Hans also stopped his horse and looked back. He however, found himself scrutinized by the younger male intimidating gazes.
"Is it me, Hans?"
Wow. Cale never has seen Hans flinched so violently to the point he almost falls from his ride.
The orange haired male averted his gaze, refusing to meet Cale's eyes. He licked his bottom lips, fingers awkwardly drawing a circle on the horse's skin.
Had this happened back then in Henituse's County, Cale would love to play around the orange haired male until he had no choice but to weep for mercy. But Cale was tired. He is too tired, hungry and cold. He didn't know how many days have passed since the war in Henituse. He didn't know if his deceased family's bodies were already found or it was out there, laying exposed to the air just like how the bodies were treated in Paeruns'.
Suddenly an intruding thought of his family's bodies laid bare in the public, limbs disoriented and mutilated, pilled with others, leaving them as just some unidentified flesh bringing an uncomfortable churn to Cale stomach.
He didn't have any patience for this. His nerves were frayed and anxiety stirred the pit of his stomach, leaving him nauseous.
"Hans. What happened to father, moth---the countess, Basen and Lily?"
Cale asked hurriedly. He can listen to his own quivering voice and he didn't like it.
The orange haired male seemed to be alarmed at the sudden change of topics for seconds, but he was back to the usual confidence Hans, and for the first time Hans finally answered his questions without stuttering, like he did the whole time. Listening to the Deputy Butler explanations of what had become of Henituse County was painful.
Although Cale knew deep down that his families were no more, hearing the clarifications from the orange haired male still hurt. There is a small part of him wishing that things have never happened, that everything is just a bad dream. That everything will go back to the way it is. Cale would just play as a drunk foolish son again.
"We also have bring back the Count and the Countess back at the mansion."
Cale let out a sigh of relief at that. "How about Lily and Basen?"
"The Young mistress have also brought back, as for Young Master Basen, we also found him but... "
"What is it?" Cale asked impatiently.
"We--We can't seem find all of him...anywhere."
Cale's heart missed a beat.
"What do you mean by you can't find all of him?"
An ominous feeling loomed over Cale. He didn't even realize he had released the breath he had been holding the whole time.
"Young Master Basen's body was found but his....head is missing. We found everything except his head. The searching team has been looking for days----Young Master!"
Shit.shit.shit.
Cale jumped to his horse and ride like a mad man.
His heartbeats were reverberating painfully through his whole body and Cale could hear the sound of his pulse pounding noisily in his ears.
The journey back to Henituse's feel like an eternity.
He had his jaw clenched during the whole journey, because if he didn't, Cale knew he would never stop screaming in anguish.
...