STABLE BOY ; Trash of the Count's Family

42. REVERBERATING TREMORS

That night, Cale went to destroy a whirlpool and steal an Ancient Power.

South thought he'd have a peaceful night, considering he wasn't busy like the Young Master— but nope. When the first explosion happened every single horse in the stable freaked out at once.

South had to handle all that while all the other stablehands panicked, trying to calm the horses down while scrambling to get some out with knights to ascertain the situation. But everything was too frazzled and the horses were terrified. How could they lead any of them out now and ask them to head out for the source of that scary noise?

"South! Get me a ho—" Hillsman's words paused as he saw the situation. Every horse was whinnying in fear, struggling and some trying to escape the stables because they thought the entire town was getting bombed or something.

Now the lady of the Ubarr was here. "Someone get the horses calm, we need to send out an investigation squad!" They had to figure out if the town needed to be investigated, they needed something to tell the citizens to quell their fears.

Coachman Leon reached for some of the horses, but even Mama Northford snarled threateningly at him.

With a sigh, South removed the hairpin from his hair.

It's a new one, silver with a single red gemstone at the end. It's much simpler than the one Redika turned into a bomb, though the end curled around like a claw and the fixture of the ring was shaped like a shield, oddly enough.

Well, South was only mildly amused by it.

On his palm, where no tattoos lay, he cut across it. Blood seeped out of the wound, and in the chaos, no one noticed him do it.

"Hey everyone," he whispered, "calm down a little bit, alright?"

He lifted his palm to his face, and ran his tongue across the wound, the coppery taste bursting through his mouth as he winced.

With a jolt, it was like every Henituse horse shook at once.

With a strangled cry they stumbled. Coachman Leon, who had been approaching the stables, gasped as his heart clenched, but only briefly stumbled before being caught by South's arm.

"What the— what the, oh," he caught his breath when the pain faded just as quickly. "Oh, that just startled me. What did I trip over?"

South closed his fist, so no one would see the cut.

"Nothing," he lifted his gaze to the Henituse horses, all who were just as startled by that sudden feedback, so much they fell silent. He then called out to the group at the door, who glanced toward the Henituse horses with confusion.

How did so many horses abruptly calm down at the same time?

"Oh, good timing. Sir Hillsman, you can take Joycequine with you!" South called, and Hillsman— who was also clutching his chest in baffled confusion at his sudan, random difficulty in breathing that came and passed in an instant— jolted back into reality.

"Right! Lady Ubarr, I shall go ascertain the situation! Please have someone who knows how to identify the tides come with me!"

Lady Ubarr stuttered, but saw her priorities. "R-right! Killian, go with the knight!"

-

"Why are you injured?"

"Hi Hans-hyung," South said, trying to tighten the bandage on his hand. Eventually he gave up and Hans took over, frowning the whole time. "The explosions scared the horses. Were the kittens in the young master's room scared too?"

Whatever lecture was on Hans' mouth seemed to drift away for a moment as he tried to recall, "uhh... no, surprisingly. Perhaps because the Young Master was there as well."

South saw Hans stick a flower-shaped sticker at the end of the bandage this time and felt very satisfied.

"Now..." Hans began, "there are so many stablehands here, so how could they let you calm them down yourself?"

"They had more horses than just ours, Hans."

"And they're all at least twice your age, they should know better," Hans said. "I know you're strong, Dongsaeng-ah, but you still shouldn't be the one getting hurt all the time."

South hummed. "It's just a shallow wound."

"Any wound at all is not okay," Hans told him. "Also, if it's not healing, then the potion the Young Master gave you is wearing off. You shouldn't do anymore work until we leave, alright?"

South grimaced.

Yeah, he definitely felt the potion wearing off. It worked very long already, so he wasn't complaining. He explored that island, he rode a boat, that was all he needed. He just cared about going home now.

He wasn't looking forward to tomorrow's agony.

Ah, just now when he licked his own blood and transferred the pain to everyone in his connection within his line of sight— that was liberating. Just as liberating as the potion at full effect.

Seeing them stumble like that with just a fraction of his usual pain was just baffling, but always so satisfying. He didn't want to hurt any of them of course, so maybe that was mean. It was nicer in the past life, when he always felt a little cathartic to subject everyone around him to that pain as a sort of retribution for their deeds.

Ah, no, no.

It's a bad thing, it's a bad thing.

South's pain is his own guilt to bear. He can't keep forcing it on other people for his own self-satisfaction. He promised he wouldn't do something so cruel ever again.

"I'll rest, Hans-hyung," he promised. "I think I should catch up on sleep, anyways. I've been working a lot this whole trip."

And Hans ruffled his hair dearly.

"Yes, you do that and rest well."