Chapter Text
The memory loss happens overnight.
Everyone in the Henituse Duchy knows this, because, the day before, the calm and expressionless twenty-one-year old Cale Henituse attended dinner with his family. An event that happens quite frequently nowadays after the White Star's defeat and consequently, Arm's downfall months ago.
Nothing had seemed amiss; the food checked for any short-acting poison as well as long-acting ones, the magic devices and guards dutifully completing their tasks to the letter. This house is the Young Master Silver Shield's family and requires utmost seriousness.
Still, seemingly without alerting any magic device, without any of their expert assassins noticing, the Cale Henituse they knew for the last three years appears no more.
"What's the meaning of this," Cale demands, long red hair[1] tied up into a ponytail, a dark scowl painting his expression with more emotion than Deruth is used to.
At the same time, that particular expression feels more familiar than the stoic one his eldest son wore the last few years. That scowl, after all, is the same expression Cale wore since he turned eight-years-old and started 'acting out'. Some would come to call this particular phase even his 'trashy phase'.
As such, Deruth does not struggle to find the words to appease his son, "Cale, let me explain the situation to you."
His son harrumphs, crossing his arms in front of his chest—terribly rude in front of a Duke, the head house-maid who he assigned during Cale's travels sniffs in disapproval—but nods almost imperceptibly. A sigh wants to come out at the terribly familiar behavior which he suppresses with long practice.
And then he begins.
"It's the year 584 of the Felix Calender and you.."
The news about the Hero of the Roan Empire losing his memories about all the good deeds he did throughout the years stay within the Henituse Estate and the inner circle of Cale's most trusted friends. At least, that should have happened.
"That man isn't the legend that foiled the devil!" Clopeh, the director and co-founder[7] of the Henituse History Museum, shouts hysterically while he is being dragged away by more than dozens of Henituse knights.
"..The fuck?"
"Young master-nim, that crazy bastard is Clopeh Sekka, a subordinate of yours," Ron explains, smile turning into a sly grin at the incredulous look Cale shoots at him.
"Tsk," the young master hisses, clicking his tongue audibly. "Everything here turned into shit after just three years."
"The current young master-nim is eighteen-years-old instead of the twenty-one-years-old him, after all," he soothes. "When the great Dragons arrive, we'll know what changed young master-nim's state."
Cale's countenance turns thoughtful as he fingers a long lock in front of his face. "Dragons, hm? I'll believe it after I see it. There's no freaking way I suddenly turned into some goody-two-shoes who saved the Roan Kingdom from some kind of evil bastard."
"It's the Roan Empire now, young master-nim."
"An Empire. I need a drink," Cale sighs.
Ron shakes his head and instead tries to hand him a cup of tea. "It's not recommended to be seen right now."
"Just shorten my damn hair," he argues and blows a lock away. Predictably, the lock promptly slaps into his face again. "It's annoying me anyway."
"Please stay put, young master-nim. It's the Duke-nim's order."
Cale groans, though he does not argue further as if his father's word is all he needs to stay still. He slips the stray lock behind his ear, only for it to immediately fall out again. Pale hands inch towards his scalp as if wanting to rip it out himself, but Ron stops this plan by shoving the cup of tea into his hands instead. Reflexively, the young master accepts it only for his surprised expression to morph into a scowl. "Ron, I do not like lemon tea," Cale reminds mildly, voice coming out with suppressed annoyance.
The butler feigns a surprised expression. That is new and at the same time, not. "It's young master-nim's most favorite drink."
"Bullshit. Bastard must be crazy," he states blandly, unceremoniously dropping the cup into a wandering maid's hand. She fumbles, but thankfully does not let it fall. "If I hadn't heard it from my father, I wouldn't have believed any of this nonsense."
"Young master-nim grew up well," Ron says, a refreshing smile tugging on his lips. The young master is luckily walking in front of him and as such, cannot see it. "When young master-nim stops being trash, he is quite impressive."
Cale halts in his steps.
"Am I really..?"
Ron waits for him to continue the question. As a minute passes without any sign, he warily prompts, "Yes, young master-nim?"
"Haa," he sighs and then, without acknowledging his prompt, just starts walking again.
The butler finds himself stumped by the obvious dismissal. The behavior of the eighteen-year-old Cale Henituse now is nothing new. Ron is used to it after practically raising him and even the twenty-one-year-old Cale Henituse ignores them frequently enough that it should not be a surprise anymore.
However.
Somehow, indecipherably, he has the feeling that the Cale now and the Cale yesterday seem fundamentally different.
Of course, he has noticed that the young master is not scared of him[2] anymore, rejecting lemon tea and speaking freely, but he also does not know now that he's in actuality a former expert assassin.
And at the same time, the trust that has built between them, the knowledge that one of them is scared and still trusts him explicitly anyway, is.. gone. Ron finds himself tripping just a little bit in the sudden knowing that this Cale, even though he is not scared of him, trusts him less now.
In addition, personal feelings aside, eighteen-years-old Cale had not been chatty with him in the past. Or with anyone, really. Most of the time, the young master ran around, causing trouble wherever he went and only listened to his family if it even came to that. If Ron had to describe the so-called 'Trash of the Count's Family' as he had been aptly named, he would have said that he is spoiled rotten and a useless puppy who needs someone to take care of him or else he would probably perish.
The Cale now fits that description and still, it's not exactly accurate either.
Something seems amiss or something has been added that has not been there before. There is no logical reason behind his feeling and Cale is just as puppy-like as yesterday. The Cale that strolls in front of him is the same. They should be the same.
But that question.. And Ron is not one to doubt needlessly..
'Young master-nim..'
Earlier that day, Deruth subtly interrogated Cale.
Without outright saying it, the chance exists that 'Cale' who runs around now is not Cale to begin with. After the White Star who even disguised himself as Deruth[3], after the Sealed God who took the face of Cale to fool the public[4], they could not take any risks. As such, someone who has known Cale all his life would conclude whether 'Cale' is really the one he says he is.
These people are Deruth and Ron.
This morning, Deruth discreetly referenced incidents that happened to Cale in his childhood and talked about facts only Cale would know. Ron checks if the other's behavior aligns with the eighteen-year-old Cale and the twenty-one-year-old Cale. Nothing worthy of concern has yielded out of their caution, though.
Until now, that is.
Seeing Cale behaving like the last three years never happened is like coming home to a dusty old house from his childhood.
"Tastes like garbage."
It is hard to say if Basen missed the sight of an extravagantly dressed Cale with a dissatisfied face and complaining about the taste of the food or if he would rather have Cale dressed simply but with an expressionless face, eating his food in complete silence.
By the faint look of exasperation and fondness on his parents' faces, he would plead neither. To be honest, Basen can also barely hold up his poker face. It is just too unreal. Just yesterday, everything was normal. His mother asked about how his studies progressed, Lily bragged that she learned the Spinning Sword Move that she tried to acquire for weeks and Cale commented that the construction work in the capital seemed to go well with the Emperor's absence.
"Should I call Beacrox back from the Eastern Continent?" his father asks, breaching the tentative silence over them.
"What's he doing all the way there?" Cale scoffs. "Don't tell me he quit his job as a chef. I heard that he's also some kind of hero, but not as much as the crazy future me."
Deruth smiles and shakes his head. The scorn that seems to drip from every of Cale's words does not affect him at all. Such composure shows Basen that he still has a lot to learn till he can help out with administration.
"Beacrox is on a manhunt."
His brother balks and the fork he holds in his hand scatters loudly to the floor. "W-what– A manhunt?"
"It's against the remaining Arm supporters," Lily elaborates unhelpfully between bites, sauce all over her mouth.
"..Truly?" Cale mutters, his whole face practically screaming what the actual fuck.
Basen snickers into his teacup. And then adds, after handing his sister a handkerchief, "Hyung-nim, these Arm supporters see you as their greatest enemy."
"Haa, of course." His brother brushes his face with his hand. "Piece of shit isn't just fucking popular but infamous, too."
"You're quite loved," his mother comments softly and locks eyes with Cale across the table. "That one fact has never changed."
His brother's eyes shake.
Cale abruptly stands up from his seat and departs from the room. Ron bows towards them, then also leaves the dining hall to follow his brother. Next to him, Lily inelegantly snorts into her apple juice.
"Send Cale another meal and an apple pie to his room, Macy," Deruth orders the head house-maid with a barely suppressed smile. "He's thin enough as it is. Meals are important."
"Is it fun to tease your amnesiac son?" Violan questions bluntly after the door falls shut again, taking a delicate sip from her tea.
"It is."
Lily shrugs. "It's fun to see that oraboni knows that the things he has done are crazy as fuck."
"Mind your language," Basen admonishes mildly, but cannot help but say, "Hyung-nim is not used to his own brand of craziness yet."
His father frowns. "I didn't expect him to be that shocked after your declaration, though, my dear."
"You never tell him that you love him," his mother accuses leisurely, sending Deruth a stink eye.
"I did! No, I do!"
"Our son now doesn't seem to know that." His mother's tone right now plainly demanded, How about you let him know that now?
Lily, who unfortunately does not excel in the art of silent communication via non-verbal cues, lets out a confused hum. "Oraboni now does not know that we love him? Isn't it obvious?"
"Um," both of his parents say and then turn to him.
Explain to her, their eyes say.
He sighs. "Hyung-nim now isn't as close to us as the future him."
His sister tilts her head. "But in the end, it's still oraboni, right? He's just a little moodier now."
Moody, his father mouths to his mother during a second Lily looks elsewhere. Violan's expression seems just as flabbergasted for a moment.
"It's a silent thing we do not talk about, because it is so obvious," Basen explains and tries not to sweat under his sister's innocent stare. "Back then, we didn't talk a lot to hyung-nim, right? But even before the war and Arm, we were always worried about him."
"Oraboni drank lots of alcohol and coughed blood out, so of course we were worried about him!"
"Our worry showed hyung-nim that we cared about him. We didn't say it, but hyung-nim probably knew then."
"T-that's right," Deruth agrees, his smile a little bit stiff around the edges.
"Well, that's stupid," Lily states bluntly and pushes her chair back. Basen flinches at the sound of her voice rising, badly hidden disappointment leaking out even though her face stays carefully blank. "If oraboni doesn't know, then isn't it obvious to tell him directly? And why stay silent in expressing love? Oraboni shouldn't have to guess from our words if we really love him or not!"
"W-well, I wouldn't say that–"
"If oraboni doesn't know, then it shows that indirectly implying is not working," she shoots down, mercilessly cutting their father off who slumps down in his chair. "It is fine not to mention it too frequently, but showing love and appreciation isn't wrong, is it?"
Basen sighs quietly to himself. In a way, Lily is right that they do not have to hide their love in other words or actions. At the same time, the way they act is undoubtedly the traditional Henituse way; living peacefully and happily, not caring about fame[6]. Because of that motto, it is obvious that nothing is more important than family.
As such, there is just no need to express their love frequently. Every member of the Henituse Duchy knows that they love each other more than anything else.
Cale, the only red-haired member of the Henituse family, has always been an exception.
His mother nods, a frown making itself known on her normally stoic face. "You're completely right," she exhales as her shoulders slump down. "Cale shouldn't have to guess and even though he has been free-spirited back then, it's a mistake we can now see for ourselves."
"Older hyung-nim wouldn't let his shock show," he adds glumly.
"He still thinks he's a bad person," Deruth sighs into his hand.
Lily nods resolutely. "See, so before oraboni gets his memories back, I'll show him that I love him!"
Cale and Ron step into his room. And there, as if it is natural for them to be here, sit two small kittens. The young master stops shortly in front of the door while the butler passes him and pets the red kitten on his bed with a smile.
"Meow," the grey kitten says.
"Cats," Cale groans. "Why."
Ron smiles benignly. "These two are from the Fog Cat Tribe."
"Beast people," he yelps in surprise, seemingly lamenting his life now at this new information.
"They are also your charges."
"I'm.. their guardian?"
"Wrong, young master-nim," Ron refutes gently and then, as Cale's expression starts to turn tentatively hopeful, he cruelly adds, "You are the guardian of these two, a Dragon and ten children from the Blue Wolf Tribe."
Cale's whole face falls in itself as if someone directly explained into his face that the White Star came back to life.
"..Do not jest," he utters weakly, his expression dull.
Ron's whole face lights up. "I'd never."
"You can't tell me that I suddenly turned know-it-all and learned to take care of freaking children like a fa– fa–" Cale scrunches up his face as his mouth twists. "Ron, I'm eighteen."
"Yes, young master-nim."
"I'm able to take care of myself but that's it. You get me?" Ron wants to mention that Beacrox also changed children's diapers when he was eighteen years old, but Cale does not even wait for a response before continuing, "Furthermore, I'm a noble's son. I don't care about any of that shitty servant stuff you or that chef learned."
'Ah, he got me,' he thinks, smirking wryly to himself.
"So, how? I don't even know how to acquire a child, lest take care of one. And it's not just one but fucking thirteen," he emphasizes, gesturing with a hand to himself. "I can accept all that hero nonsense because it's all only exaggeration or propaganda. But that? Don't fuck with me."
"Young master-nim got along quite well with young master Basen and young mistress Lily, though."
Cale groans loudly. "That– Don't talk shit, I'm not stupid. Obviously, the future me gets along with 'em. And Basen and Lily are almost adults. Hardly a child, Ron."
"Is it such a shock?" he questions with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes. Fuck. I– I don't know." He brushes a hand through his face, cloaking his frustrated, confused expression behind his hand. Into his palm, he mumbles, "Everything here is so freaking weird."
'It is.'
Though, instead of agreeing, he mentions, "The Dragons and the Priestess of Eternal Night will arrive tomorrow."
"Great," he replies sarcastically, finally freeing his face from his hand to show a deep grimace that makes him reveal disgruntlement plain for everyone to spot. "More damn people I don't know but apparently know me. Will the King show his wrinkled face, too?"
"Emperor Alberu Crossmann is on an expedition with his instructor and another Dragon."
"Right, it's Emperor now. Who's this shithead, Alverwhatever?"
"The former crown prince, Alberu Crossmann. Young master-nim and him are sworn brothers."
Cale clicks his tongue. "Just for the lousy public, I bet. Is he as nauseating as I heard him to be?"
"Answering that would be against the Imperial Law," the butler reminds simply, but a smile still tugs on the corners of his mouth.
"Tsk, useless." Cale turns away, the dismissal clear. Then, the young master zeroes onto the two silent cats and, with quick steps, looms over their tiny forms. "Hey, you two. What the hell is our relationship?"
"Um," Hong stammers and shrinks behind the grey kitten.
"Cale is our guardian and also our employer," On answers, neutral.
"They are quite powerful," Ron adds cheerfully. "And they are also my students. Fog and poison respectively."
Cale blanches. "You taught two children from the deadliest Cat Tribe to be even more efficient killers??"
Hong puffs up his fur behind his sister. "My kill count is even higher than Lock hyung!"
"Who?!" the young master shrieks, throwing his hands over his head. The 'I'm So Done With This Shit' expression appears quite hilarious to Ron who did not get the chance to see it the last few years. However, the scared one is still the best[2]. And as if hearing that thought process, Cale turns to him and shouts, "And what the fuck are you teaching children, Ron?!"
"It's the young master-nim who told them to create a kill count."
Cale narrows his eyes. His mouth snaps shut, and he turns to the two cats who are watching their interaction with awe. "You, the grey one. Is that true?"
"My name is On and this is my younger brother, Hong," she introduces briefly and then shakes her head. "Technically, our youngest misinterpreted your words at that time and concluded that you wanted us to create a kill count."
"Ha," Cale scoffs smugly and sends him a condescending look over the children's head. "Hear that? You old man. I would never teach children something like that."
Ron laughs amiably at the young master's childish behavior. Quite cute. "This old butler seems to have spoken too soon."
Unseen by Cale, Ron observes how the two cats exchange entertained glances. Their bodies, which had been alert for any kind of negative reaction, relax as Cale sits calmly next to them on the bed.
"Cale," Hong begins and crawls out from behind his sister, "we heard that the crazy bastard Clopeh came to the territory."
"Even some children call him crazy," he notes dryly.
"He's one crazy bastard, young master-nim."
"Did he try to cut your hair off again?" On inquires as she bites her lip in worry.
Cale closes his eyes and warily questions, "Does this happen often?"
"Shall we kill him?" Hong growls, eyes twinkling with barely concealed violence.
"Does this happen often?"
Hearing the faint nuance of hysteria out of the young master's voice, Ron reassures, "He tried it two times and he failed each time because the young master-nim set him on fire." The butler meets the wildly shaking eyes of his master and smiles gently. "The crazy bastard wants the young master-nim's hair to archive it in his museum. If your body returns to the soil, nothing will be left which is why he tries to preserve something from you."
On sniffs. "He thinks that you're a god, Cale[5]."
Cale's mouth falls open and his eyes go round. "A god– Is he completely messed up? Totally nuts! If that had been the case, the apparent war against that wannabe evil organization I heard about would've been over in a flash!"
"Gods aren't as powerful as you might think, young master-nim," Ron admonishes idly. "The God of Despair was defeated, after all. And the White Star, too."
"And the motherfucking God of Death couldn't do anything!" Hong complains and paws on Cale's knee. "He dumped all of the work on you! If he had managed his realm better instead of wanting to retire, all of this wouldn't have happened!"
"White Star wouldn't have come to power," On summarizes at seeing the young master's knitted brows. "God of Death was helpful, but he was ultimately too restricted to be essential."
"Bastard even took the cintamani with him."
Cale's expression hardens. "Stop. Stop talking. Don't continue."
"Why?" Hong, curious, tilts his head into the other's chest.
"Both of you are only adding into his theory that I could be a god," he snaps out between clenched teeth and sweeps the red cat into his lap.
Amused at his plight, Ron tries to add fuel to the fire, "Though it's true, young mas–"
"Ron! Get the fuck out!" Cale bellows, interrupting him, and points with his free hand towards the door. "I don't need your help, so piss off already! Don't serve me lemon tea ever again! I hate that damn stuff!"
"Isn't it your most favorite drink?" he hears On murmur while closing the door.
Never before has there been a 'no' shouted more loudly in the Henituse Estate.
"..Are you sure, Ron?"
"Positive," he confirms. "Something is.. different. It is undoubtedly the young master-nim who I'm talking to, but at the same time, it isn't the same young master-nim who I accompanied to the capital three years ago."
"Hmm," Deruth hums. "On what do you base this?"
"The young master-nim seems young."
"..That's because it is his eighteen-years-old self now, Ron."
Ron snorts lightly before hurriedly explaining, "I apologize. Indeed, it is the young master-nim when he was eighteen." He would never forget that puppy-like gaze as if baring his teeth against the whole world. As if asking again and again, Why did you take her away from me? "But, my Lord, I am sure that you have noticed it."
[1] long hair: chapter 174-175
[2] scared expression: chapter 13
[3] WS as Deruth: chapter 679-680
[4] SG taking Cale's face: chapter 715
[5] Clopeh's delusion: chapter 208
[6] Henituse motto: chapter 206
[7] why co-founder (tho i will mention it later anyway): chapter 629