The Lost Battle Student

Chapter Two

A week or so after the encounter in the dormitory, Jerome lay on his bed, avoiding having to run the course while Alda sat there combing his hair back neatly. Bryn came running in, water glistening in his hair and his shirt missing.

"Guess what I just heard in the showers!" He said excitedly. Jerome groaned.

"We don't want to hear one of your shower stories, Bryn. You seem to have more shower stories to tell than any normal human being." Jerome scoffed, causing Alda to laugh. Bryn glared at them both.

"Oh come on! It's about the ward brat." He said. Jerome sat up and Alda set his comb down, staring at him intently.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Spill!" Alda said harshly.

"Well I was in the shower..." Jerome rolled his eyes at his way of starting the story. "And three first year cadets came in, talking about how baby messed up his routine today and the whole class got in trouble for his incompetence." Jerome noticed the tick Bryn got in his hand as he told the story, his tale tell sign that he was lying. But this lie seemed to have a good reason to teach the barons brat a lesson. Alda and Jerome would never miss the opportunity, lie or not.

"Well...it seems we need to teach baby another lesson. How about the river this time?" Jerome nodded.

"Have him hold the rock. They used to make us do that last year." Jerome recalled the events of their own bullies. Alda nodded at Jerome.

"Yes, good thinking. Bryn, put a shirt on." He scoffed. Bryn rolled his eyes and headed to his footlocker. He pulled out a shirt, sniffed it, gagged, shrugged, than put it on. It was a typical routine for Bryn. It's why he took so many showers. Everyone thought that they just had naturally cold showers, but it was because Bryn used up any hot water that had been boiling in the water tank. Either that or he'd put out the fire for a laugh. Jerome and Alda hated him for it.

The three of them found Horace walking back from the several mile run he had just completed. He looked exhausted and covered in grime, which almost made Jerome sorry for him. Almost. The three of them approached him, causing a ruckus so he knew they were coming. Enough time for the terror to set in. Alda had repeatedly told Jerome and Bryn that nothing was fun without a little fear. It was a code he lived by.

"Hey Baby!" Bryn yelled. Jerome thought the nickname for the ward was rather dumb, but he went along with it anyway. Horace froze on the spot, and his gaze dropped from the three of them.

"We heard about your little screw up. If you can't follow routine you leave, Baby!" Alda scoffed. Suddenly Jerome found himself and Bryn seizing the arms of the unfortunate boy, and hauling him towards the creek. Alda forced him to find a rock that weighed a good amount and hold it above his head.

"Now stay there, and don't try to skip out, because we'll know." Jerome sternly told the boy. Horace looked mortified, and struggled under the rocks weight. The three of them chuckled and head back to the dorm.

"That was a lot more fun this time around." Alda said smiling.

"Well, maybe that's because we aren't the brunt of it this year." Jerome said laying down on his mattress. Bryn sat down and Jeromes feet with a small bounce.

"You know, I almost feel bad for the kid." Bryn said thoughtfully. Alda rolled his eyes.

"You've gone soft, Bryn. We're doing the kid a favor by preparing him for life." Alda said picking something out of his teeth and flicking it Bryn's way. Bryn gave him a disgusted look.

"As long as Rodney doesn't find out we're good, Bryn. Lighten up." Jerome scoffed.

"And if he does?" Bryn asked.

"He won't. No quit worrying, you're annoying me." Alda growled. Jerome let his head drop back onto his pillow, and he fetched an envelope from beneath it. His name was etched out on the parchment rather crudely, as if a child had scrawled it. He smiled fondly at the thought of his mother attempting to write him. She only knew the basics of reading and writing, what Jerome has taught her. She continued to try to keep in touch with her only son, and that was what mattered to him. Inside the envelope held parchment with the same crude penmanship. She asked how his schooling was going, and how Bryn and Alda were. He hadn't found the time to write her back to tell her every thing was fine. And it had been to late. A week later Jerome had received a letter stating his mother has died of a virus spreading through the village he was from. Jerome kept that letter as a reminder of her. It had been over six months since her passing, and he had yet to tell anyone. Alda and Bryn were unaware, and he wanted to keep it that way. They teased Horace because he was an orphan, how would they react if one of their own friends turned out to be one as well? At first it was hard to keep his emotions under check. He would cry himself to sleep silently, and smile the next morning. Six months later, he was finally able to speak about her without tearing up. Her last wish was for him to become a knight, to become a good man. Deep down he knew he already had failed her.

"What's your problem?" Alda asked dully. He was in the midst of writing to his brother when he noticed Jeromes somber mood.

"Nothing." Jerome lied, tucking his treasured letter back beneath his pillow. He had burnt the one stating his mother had passed. He wanted no one to find it. He knew that Bryn occasionally went through his locker in search of food or something to black mail him with.

"You sure?" Alda asked. He didn't really care, but he wanted to understand Jeromes sudden mood change.

"Yes." Jerome said. He folded his hands across his midsection and stared at the roof of the dorms, thinking of how different his life would be if he had not listened to his mother and gone onto battle school.

***

Sorry it's been a while. I recently was in a car crash and had some minor head trauma so looking at a screen for very long made me feel sick. Hope you liked it though!

~Avis