rescribo tempus

circa mortem

'Circa mortem' deal with death

A start of a series of one shots probably.

Waking up 20 years in the past wasn't what Cale was expecting, especially not after fighting a war and making a deal with god, in fact it hadn't even crossed his mind. The fact it happened had sent his thoughts down a chaotic spiral of death and self loathing.

Despite the deal and opening his eyes, Cale still saw the gruesome scene of his 'resting' place. The demolished buildings, crushed bodies with a figure of blood that made it seem almost surreal, that the broken bloodied and bruised bodies were all a figure of his imagination, and at this point in time, it was. However, to his mind, fresh off the battle field that had ensured his death, this was real, he was still on said battlefield, fighting off the tight grips of death. Fighting off the enemy, only to be crushed yet again. This scene seemed to repeat over and over again in his mind, his eyes focused on the hallucinated figures of his previous allies and enemies that racked his brain and haunted his memories.

He was the only one alive, aside from the hero, his family gone. Lost in the battle against the indomitable alliance, destroyed and crushed just like the Henituse county.

His 'entrusted butler' Ron had woke him up from his disorderly daze of horror and heartbreak. Ron ,stuck in a moment of insecurity and loss at what to do, just stared at his young master, subconsciously noting the way he was in a terror stricken haze. Cale had never acted this badly, not over his mothers death and certainly not over a nightmare to which Ron had ascertained to be the cause of his puppy young masters condition.

Cale had awoken slightly from his grief stricken daze, enough to notice that his old trusted butler Ron, had been the one to wake him. In his muddled mind that is what became his sole focus, his butler, his father figure, alive and breathing. Loosing the little sense he had, Cale grasped at Ron's clothes and tugged, while Ron had been a competent assassin in his youth, his skills had betrayed him in the face of his distraught young master. Ron looked down at the trembling figure, grasping on as though he would disappear should the grip lessen even the slightest. It had been years since his young master had confided in him, much less looked to him for support, so it had been a shock to him to have a grieving child bawl and shake in his arms once more.

'This is similar to when the old mistress had died' Ron had thought reminiscing the past, having to stand and listen to his young master desperate cries of mourning, his father electing to ignore his son in his state of sorrow. The mere thought of that past had never not succeeded in boiling his blood. No matter what tragedy had befell him or his family, he had never neglected his own son, not even when he started his job as a butler and had many more responsibilities, his son had stayed the top of his priorities especially after the loss of his wife. So the fact that the count had completely neglected his own blood merely for the fact that he looked similar to countess was disgusting.

Coming back to the present, Cale had realised the embarrassing situation he was in, his head and hands buried in his butlers once pristine clothes, he flushed and scrambled to correct his behaviour in fear of loosing Ron quicker than last time. The man had left quietly in the night with his son, only to be seen again at the side of the young man that had beat him in the past. That betrayal had stung deep, however he couldn't fault them, his act of trash was supposed to result in this, he was supposed to be lesser that scum, supposed to be the worst example. But each time someone says something rude or hurtful, he can't help but feel stung, trying to convince himself that it's alright so long as his family is safe and protected.

Putting himself on the line for his father and family was what Cale had been doing since 5 years old, to him, he didn't care what happened to him so long as no harm befell those he cared about, especially not for those he thought of as friends, so he carefully crafted the facade of trash and carelessness full of false pretences and glittery words.

Unknowingly letting out subtle pleads of "don't go" Cale still griped his trusted butlers outfit, catching the butlers attention none the less. Looking down at his young master, Ron had noticed something he'd neglected to see, a fault in the carefully constructed mask of the child he'd once thought of as a son and realised, the fault he had noticed was one that seemed as though it was carefully curated to be a 'fault' and was actually a way in if anyone had payed attention.

Despairing over the fact that no one, not even himself had cared enough to look. Ron had vowed to make up for his mistakes, because while he may be an assassin, he has his morals. The fact that something so simple like this had slipped his mind, was an affront to his skills and pride as the matriarch of the Molan household

Ron let his disappointment over his past actions drop to the wayside for the time being, his young master came first after all.

This is just the beginning so please be patient.

Bye loves~