Once Upon a Story [ INCONSISTENT UPDATES ]

The Prodigy V

ִֶָ. ..𓂃🪽་༘࿐

"Mom, can you walk with me to school today?"

Helen placed her pen down. "What are you planning?"

James pouted. "How did you know?"

"You and your father have the same glint in your eyes when you're up to something mischievous." She tightened his backpack straps and fixed his tie. "Should I be worried?"

"Nope." He grinned. "You'll be walking behind me, at a distance. Mr. Jones will distract you with my daily croissant, and that'll give me the time to walk into his path."

Helen was always impressed by her son's intellect. But at the same time, it worried her. He had already done something dangerous, and his success only marked approval for more daring feats.

As planned, he sped out first ahead of her, and she calmly walked a few paces behind. He turned around, time to time, engaging in light conversation.

"Mom, how much pie can I eat before my stomach pops?"

"We will not be testing that theory."

He scurried past the bakery; Helen picked up her pace, asking him to slow down.

"Madam Claudel! A moment, please." Mr. Jones sped out of the bakery with a paper bag. "A few desserts for your son. I'm sorry for what happened to your family. It's a dishonour on our community."

A faint smile. "Thank you for your kind words. And thank you for not turning back on James."

"He's a nice kid—"

"Hey! Stop! Get the kid! Someone stop him!"

Helen didn't blink. She ran to where the crowd had gathered. Her eyes darted around, searching. 

"James!"

Should I be worried?

A woman had pulled him out of the circle. Helen saw blood. She pushed her way through, taking him into her care. "James! It's me. Can you hear me?"

She snapped her fingers by his ears, and his eyes snapped open. Present but weak. "Mom?"

Nope.

"Good. Still alert." She scanned the crowd. "Mr. Colin, send an emergency message to the academy. Tell them Helen requests Dr. Beecham to prepare an OR."

He made haste for the nearest post station. The telegram was sent.

James weakly lifted his head at his mother's voice, breathing hard. The small scratches and bruises were hidden behind deep cuts. On the side, a group of men held someone back.

"Let me at him! Let. me at. him! He ruined everything!" Marcus struggled against his captors. A bloody knife dropped beside them.

Helen ripped layers of her dress to wrap her son's wounds. "James, keep your eyes open." The cut on his side bled too much for her liking.

"Trying...hard to..."

"Fight it, James. You must fight it." She bit her lip bloody, packing his wound with a clean cloth she had in her pocket. "Someone get me a carriage!"

In moments, they moved, speeding across the streets of Edinburgh. Helen kept her hands firmly pressed against his side. He squirmed, trying to move away from the pressure.

"Endure. Pain means you still live."

The academy came into sight. The carriage accelerated, the horses pushed to their limits.