Illeuid hated being called to his father's study.
In the past, it did not matter which lifetime it was and no matter what he accomplished, he would be admonished for not meeting this wretched family's standards. So many would take it upon themselves to remind him about how he was nothing more than a failure. He now he felt nothing more than embarrassment as he remembered how desperate he tried to get this man to at least acknowledge him as his son. Alas, it was for naught as this man had taken it upon himself to dispatch Illeuid himself in plenty of his lifetimes, seeing him as nothing more than a stain on the family's reputation. The countless of deaths at this man's and his other family member's hands has indeed made him much more vigilant when it comes to surviving. He was proud to make it to twenty-nine years of age in one lifetime, but in the end he still lost his life.
He nervously crossed on foot behind the other, the toe of his shoe making thunking noises against the ground in random intervals. He wondered if the man would humiliate him by making him wait outside his office for a lengthy amount of time. He should be used to being the laughingstock of the Veilkerhurst family, but it was hard to not be annoyed by their various of methods in trying to demean him.
"Come in."
Oh. He was summoning him earlier than usual? This should be good.
"Greetings, father." Illeuid nodded towards the formidable man. He sensed that, as usual, the man was none too pleased with him.
"There have been reports of your hijinks antagonizing your siblings."
Illeuid placed his hand over his heart in mock offense. "Father, I would never--" Wait. Reports of hijinks? Not the regular reports of his failures? But hijinks? "Did they tattle on me?!!" Illeuid could feel his temper flare, moving in that strange wave similar to the last time he was in his father's office.
What the hell? They have always gone out of his way to hurt him, humiliate him, and make his very existence miserable but when he retaliates by fighting back, (a la Brakus with his fighting combo), or resisting their dangerous whims, (Priscilla with trying to drag him to her lab and his mother trying to pit him against Brakus for fun), he was the one to get into trouble? He thought that winning this competition by all mean necessary was allowed as long as you did not outright kill someone. He did not do anything to warrant this interrogation. Unless him breathing was now too annoying for them to tolerate.
God, he hated it here.
He noticed that he had crossed his arms and was thumping a foot rapidly on the ground. Hurriedly, he straighten himself out. His father did not say anything for awhile, instead choosing for him to stew in the stained silence as he studied the youngest Veilkerhurst.
"If you are hiding your abilities," his father eventually continued, "that would be seen as deceiving the Veilkerhurst. And that is not allowed." Oh, so he was not going to address the fact that his other family members were snitches who ran to daddy for retaliation? But why was he surprised? they have gone to him to get "official" missions that they could strategically use to maim or kill Illeuid in plenty of lifetimes. why was this any different?
Illeuid knew that his father really meant hiding anything from the head or his right hand was not allowed. It would be foolish to show one's hand to the other competitors. Hiding any talent that could be of use to the progress and maintenance of the family's status was nothing short of treason. Which resulted in being ousted from the registry. This made one fair game to being eliminated so as their enemies could not use them. Illeuid could feel the old fear creeping up against his back in cold sweat, his stomach clenched with dread.
When he audibly gulped, it felt as if his saliva had concentrated into the hardened mass of a stone, scratching the sides of his throat as it made its way down to his stomach. It had never hurt to swallow before. he winced, bringing his hand to his neck. He quickly placed it by his side.
"I--ugh!" he choked. Clearing his aching throat, he tried again. "I am doing no such thing father. I am only doing my filial duties to follow the way of the Veilkerhurst family that my father has always maintained."
He could tell his father did not believe him.
It was when the man stood up from his seat and moved from behind his desk that Illeuid knew that he was screwed. The boy had to resist the urge to flee, struggling to remain in place. But it felt like his feet were trying to get away from him as most sensation became more faint. When his father stood before him. he felt himself topple over. he stupidly reached out to the man, as if he was still deluded enough to think that he would catch him and not let him fall on his butt. Only he did catch Illeuid. Not only that, he picked up his son, using one arm to keep him up as he studied something on his face.
No. His eyes were looking at something near his face. The irises moved quickly, side to side like he was reading something. Illeuid had never seen that before. Was this something to do with mana? If it was, it was a method he had never seen in any of his past lifetimes. Illeuid grew more and more nervous the longer the man did not talk. It was fine when he was ignoring him, showing how insignificant his presence was to the head Veilkerhurst. This was too close for comfort. His father had never laid a hand on him unless it was to end his life. Now, he held his son up in the air and close to his face.
Vlaus Veilkerhurst has made it clear that one must not underestimate their enemy, even if they appear weak. He would never have risked having anyone other than Reilard or his mother be this close to him. Yet he was risking it t o get close to his youngest.
Oh my god, Illeuid started trembling. I may actually die at ten years old in this lifetime. he shifted, trying to silently signal to his father that he was ready to be placed down now.
The man ignored him.
Illeuid felt the tears gather in his eyes. It was only a matter of time before he would no longer be able to hold them at bay and he would turn into a bawling mess. when he felt his father jerk suddenly, his head snapped towards the man.
Whatever his father saw caused him to tighten his grip on Illeuid's arm and the bottom of his thighs. He felt a nail dig into the back of his knee.
"What games are you playing, child." His father brought his face close to Illeuid's. Unbidden, Illeuid's brain brought up images of his past death by Vlaus's hands. There were the times he was run through with his sword in five lifetimes. When his father had walked away as an enraged Brakus beat his head after he was poison with an incurable curse in in another. He even remembered the time he was forced to swallow a message to pass along to his uncle. The one who still hated his father and had no problem killing Illeuid one the message was received. Illeuid became so overwhelmed by the images that he threw up on himself.
He began to cry silently.
He just knew that his father was looking at him in disgust. He always did whenever he saw that level of weakness.
His father called for a servant to come and get him. Illeuid was just happy to be dismissed, barely paying attention to the fact that his father had taken off his own coat and covered him with it, the clothing large on his small frame. He instinctively clutched the thick fabric as the manservant carried him out of the room. He only looked back one last time, peeking between clumps of hair heavy with sweat before the door closed.
His father stared at the pool of sick he left on the carpet, his hands clenched into fists,