Chapter Text
Cale's brows furrowed in a deep frown. Even if it weren't for the fact that he felt his body burning up and his throat clogging in hotly, the voices in his head just wouldn't keep quiet after his little discovery.
—Aigoo, you unlucky bastard… Super Rock sighed.
—Well, at least it'll keep him down when the others find out. They don't need him for every little thing, you know! Thief cheered.
—Rest up, you XXX. Or don't; I don't really care. Crazy Kid huffed.
—She does. Glutton said smugly.
—Why the heck are you guys so pleased? Being sick means less time to throw money around! Cheapskate whined at them.
—Sometimes, I can't tell whether you are more like me or Cheapskate. Super Rock told Cale with exasperation his voice.
"Can you guys shut up?" Cale replied. "And since when was I ever a sacrificial hero like you OR a crazy bastard like him?! Also, Crybaby?"
—Rest up, dear. I can't seem to help here. Crybaby admitted. I guess I also need a slacker life after healing you so much.
"…. The fuck…"
'Since when does Crybaby talk so smugly? Where's the tears? The snot? The sobs?'
—Stop cursing so much, everyone. Super Rock reprimanded them as the oldest person there.
—You ain't seen nothin' yet, you XXX, XXX or did you XXX think I'd XXX forget about XXX?! Crazy Kid cursed.
Feeling overwhelmed by the voices in his head, Cale groaned at all the noise the ancient powers were making in the early hours of the morning. Though he got used to their chatter over the years, this was just too much.
He decided to dutifully ignore the monotonous throbbing in his head, driven by his longing for a simpler, slacker life, as he contemplated his next move.
His life as Kim Rok Soo taught him to be nitpicky about memories he wanted to forget or remember.
—Can't you guys see he's having a headache? Be quiet.
Of course, Crybaby would notice, though. But once all the ancient powers hushed up, he decided that he appreciated Crybaby's silent worry more than the others' overdramatic chatter, even if he was being aa little difficult today.
It felt almost surreal to Cale, as though the ancient powers actually harbored concern for him, a concept that left him utterly bewildered.
Why would anyone, especially ancient powers that had been dormant for millennia, bother to care for a worthless individual like him and his welfare? This question lingered in Cale's mind as he combed his hands through his now almost hip-length hair.
Cale sighed as he raised himself up and tried standing up. That resulted in him stumbling and catching himself on the nightstand. Dizziness almost overwhelmed him, but he shook his head and stood up straight, determined not to be late to his breakfast with the children. They were probably already patiently waiting for his sorry ass to wake up and join them to eat Beacrox's delicious feast; as they had done every day since arriving at the Super Rock Villa.
"…. Fuck."
The children were waiting for him, so he can't go there looking like shit. He knew he looked like shit. The determined Henituse then launched (read: tripped) himself over to the bathroom.
Becoming ill was a common experience for both humans and, as he would later discover, even non-human entities. It was an easy fix, and no one would even be able to tell he was under the weather unless they were constantly looking for it. Which they weren't.
(What Cale didn't know was that everyone in the villa were always looking at him for even the most insignificant sign of discomfort.)
The red-haired man looked at his haggard form in his bathroom mirror and sighed. Surely, his sickness was from the suffering he was facing from the unyielding one-sided love he was in with his slacker life. He lamented internally as he splashed his face with frigid water.
As soon as the water hit his face, Cale frowned. He deeply regretted that one incident where he mentioned that the tap water was feeling too cold for the harsh forest winter. Roan—and later Erubahen—had made sure the water was always regulated to the best of their abilities. Which was, in Cale's case, way too perfect to make his flushed face any less, well, flushed. This was much easier as Kim Rok Soo, who didn't have as pale skin as he did now, as the trash Cale Henituse.
As the man leaned against the sink as another bout of dizziness tried to engulf him, he heard quick, quiet taps on his chamber's door. He inwardly groaned, imagining Ron's vicious eyes as he elegantly handed him lemon tea. He didn't feel like consuming that cursed liquid at the moment, so he gathered up his strength to give an order to the scary assassin.
"Ron, get me a bowl of iced water to the bathroom."
For an ominous, almost scary moment, Cale heard nothing back from the butler. Then, "Yes, young master." He didn't even feel Ron leaving, but he was sure he was safe from the devil's tears entering his throat.
Cale, now freed from the judgy eyes of fate, leans on the wall and slowly slides down to sit on the carpeted floor. Sometime later, he felt himself jolting awake to the bathroom door opening. He didn't even feel himself doze off. If he were Kim Rok Soo, he already would've been attacked by a rouge monster, and he would've—
"Young master, may this servant ask about your pitiful position on the floor?"
Ugh. Cale almost shuddered at the coldness seeping into the assassin's voice. But he felt his crushed spirits lift when he saw the bowl in the butler's hand.
Instead of answering Ron's question—which, in the hindsight, was the safest option in that situation—he reached out his tired arms towards the bowl in a give-me attempt. He almost regretted it when he saw something strange flash through the butler's eyes as he held the bowl tighter, as if not trusting Cale with it for whatever reason he didn't feel like figuring out with his dizzy mind.
Then the butler gently handed the redhead the bowl, grimacing when he saw his puppy young master's arms shaking in the process. He suddenly had the urge to murder a certain someone who always causes his master so much distress, only to sigh as he realized he didn't ever want to ever hurt—forget murder—his little puppy young master.
He's just got to settle for the White Star, then.
The poor man, subjected to his butler's vicious thoughts, couldn't help but shiver. Said butler misinterpreted that to mean his young master was feeling cold. Which couldn't have been more far from the truth—Cale felt like he was burning up!
Ron's eyes darkened as he kneeled down beside his puppy young master. He reached out to touch his master's ashen face. His suspicions were confirmed when, although with gloved hands, he felt the unmistakable heat pulsing through the redhead's body.
Weakly, Cale pushed Ron's hand away, attempting to conceal his pain. The older man's gray eyebrows furrowed as he realized just how serious the situation was, and he quickly decided they needed to get Cale to rest as soon as possible.
"Young master—"
"Dongsaeng!"
Fuck.
Since when did—why? Ah, yes. Cale sighed tiredly. The crown prince and he were going to talk about—about—Wait, what did he and Alberu want to talk about again? Cale decided that he couldn't show the future sun of the empire his pasty complexion—surely that'd cost some bonuses off his paycheck!
So he did what he was going to do before Ron kneeled in front of him.
Dump his head into the bowl of now mostly melted but still ice-cold water.
—Ah, ah, you idiot! *Sob* My poor, poor work ethics…Huhu… Crybaby cried sadly, which was more like him.
The Vitality of Heart sure was reliable, he thought as he lifted his head with his eyes closed. But Cale wondered what's with crybaby's sudden wack of quiet complaining. It's not like he's been doing that much these last few weeks for him to have his hands full of healing him.
—You just woke up from a XXX coma; of course, you couldn't do that much XXX since you slept for five XXX weeks, you little XXX. I personally feel very sorry for Crybaby! Crazy Kid barreled at him.
"I woke up two weeks ago! And stop calling me a dipshit!"
Cale frowned. His ancient powers are all very emotional beings. He didn't understand how he first thought that they were just memories when they kept making new ones over and over again in his head.
With his eyes closed, he didn't notice Ron's incredulous stare from in front of him.
Cale patted his now cold and wet face. Yes, he couldn't feel the heat through his hands anymore. He should tell Raon to turn the water's temperature back to how it used to be; going through all the trouble to bring cold water to wash his face was too much work.
He gasped as he felt himself being carried into the air. It was cold. And hot, too. It was too much of everything, so Cale didn't feel like opening his eyes yet.
"Ron?" he asked instead but was only answered with a plop when he was gently dropped on his bed. When did they even reach the bed? Also, where was the bowl that was just in his hands?
Cale was mutely scared of the butler's swiftness and efficiency. He did not have to worry much when he was officially Ron's young master, but technically, Ron could now raise his hand against him if he annoyed him too much. Cale shivered at the thought of someone one day finding his corpse in a river.
Ron watched his puppy young master shiver with a vicious expression. He swiftly turned and brought back more blankets to cover up his cold (both literally and figuratively, even though everyone knows he's a sweetheart) grandson. The butler then called out to a servant to start the fireplace. Quietly, he told them with a benign smile on his face, his eyes looking the exact opposite. Do not disturb the young master at any cost.
The servant, knowing that death and suffering would await them if they made the simplest mistake, scurried out of the room to their task.
Meanwhile, a certain crown prince watched the hurried servant skitter away with a crease in his brow. He felt curious about what was going on and was more worried about his little brother than that. But if the Dark Elf was many things, one of them was intelligent. He decided this case should and will be brought up at the lunch table, but it wasn't something that he needed to meddle with right now.
Cale liked his privacy, and he liked being in serene places. And the others knew he more than deserved anything he wanted.
$$$
Back in his chambers, Cale's warm and toasty body made his eyes droop, and before he knew it, he was sleeping soundly (well, if you ignore the fact that his breathing was quite irregular, much to Ron's and Crybaby's utter displeasure) while the butler lightly put a cold compress on his master's pale forehead.
Little did the redhead know, there was a war council going on in the dining hall, and more than one glass object was being haphazardly thrown around. If Cale did know, he would frown and tsk disapprovingly at the others.
But since Cale was not there to frown or to tsk at them, the chaos ensued.
Ron just thought that the bowl of ice was a stupid idea.