The Redo of a Novel's Villain: Moira - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Huey woke up to a particular large bump, racking the carriage up and jostling him awake. At some point in the ride he had nodded off, and from the looks of the forest around him he was nearly there. The little sunlight that managed to streak its way through the foliage left patterned shadows in its wake. It discoloured Huey's hand and sleeves in patches as he placed it by the small carriage window, feeling the thrumming of the wheels and the subtle chill permeating from the glass' temperature.
It was calmingly quiet, but with that quiet came the realisation he was close to "home." Close to him. A bit of unease picked up again and he forcibly shoved it down with a deep inhale. The caravan baking in calm comforting him enough to think rationally.
First, he asked himself, why is he nervous?
Because he has to meet his uncle (alongside his cousins) alone.
Why must he do that?
To report back to the Duke their study progress.
What is he feeling?
Nervous, worried, irritated, restless.
Not scared?
Abruptly a harsh neigh cut through the air like a knife followed by the jarring stop of the carriage wheels. He steadied himself and pulled himself upright, alarmed. The silence that stretched on in those seconds were tense, making the hair at the back of his neck stick up. The air pulled taught, and slowly, he moved. Straightening his knees he leaned forwards to the wall separating him and the coachman. There was a small horizontal window there with a slidable door. Its purpose was for the person inside to be able to freely communicate with the coachman without shouting through the walls or poking their heads out and vice versa. He rarely ever used it, but now? He needed to discern what happened.
Apprehensively Huey placed his fingers against the ridge of the small opening, unsure if he wanted to know what was outside or not. He cracked it open, just a bit, small enough he could barely fit his pinkie through the gap. Even so he could sense the presence of the coachman. More specifically, the man's quickened breaths.
Huey furrowed his brows. He pushed the door open a bit more, enough so he could even see his cousins' carriage in front frozen in the same way they were. He whispered through the opening.
"What happened?" There was no if something happened, it did. He just needed to know what.
He heard the man's breath hitch as he rasped out an answer, so meek and quiet it was unbefitting from someone hired for the Astaseul Duchy.
"...Young Master, please—"
"Well well, what do we have here?" An unfamiliar voice jutted out with malice lacing the words. The noise was like a crack of a whip against strained silence and it made the coachman cower as small whimpers came out of the man far too old for that. Huey scowled as a foreboding feeling encompassed him. Multiple hypotheses raced though his mind but one stood out crystal clear like the smudge of an ink against white.
'Bandits.'
They must have seen two fancy carriages devoid of guards and foolishly took the chance for a quick raid, not stopping to think or even identify which noble family it was. Suddenly everything was no longer hung high strung by uncertainty, and Huey released a breath. Although he still felt a thin thrum of nervousness through the tip of his fingers and the light squeeze of emotions, he also felt relief.
Huey pushed himself off the wall, his eyes now trained to the woodland surrounding him. Emerging from behind the trees and flashing their weapons, a multiple of other voices rose up following the first to speak. He could hear loud mocks and jeers as the group made their presence known like the ripples of a calm pond.
He counted the people that appeared.
1...2...4.
5?
Huey's finger tapped against his thigh as he observed the outside through the tinted windows. His mind gears spun, if five bandits surrounded his caravan alone not counting the ones around Neil and Lein's, then hypothetically there should be around ten people. Assigning five per cart could only mean two things, the group in itself is large and they all want in on the 'fun,' or...
They're individually weak.
Huey stifled a chuckle and he grabbed the handle, swinging it open.
"Young Master?! Stop!" The coachman squawked, his head whipping around to see Huey step onto the ground as he made firm eye contact with the group. The numbers were a bit tricky, but he could manage.
Upon seeing him, the leader of this group cackled. "Has the Young Master come out to order us to leave? Are you going to demand "Do you know who I am?" Or plead mercy for your prissy asses? Well guess what, I could care  jackshit about which shitty noble house you come from." The leader ridiculed, long wild hair bouncing with each breathy laugh.
Huey sighed and shook his head. "Quite the opposite in fact, it is precisely because you don't know who I am that I am offering you a choice. Leave now, or stay to regret it in the future."
The laughing stopped and they all zeroed in on him.
"Is that a threat, boy?" The bandit snarled.
"Take it as you will." He wore a forced smile.
"Young Master please stop..." The coachman's shaky response came from behind him, Huey didn't turn back to face the man as he kept a weary focus on the bandits.
"Get in the carriage and lock the door."
"But—"
"It's an order."
Hearing the firmness in the youth's voice, the coachman could only swallow his pride and scramble into the caravan, locking it just as ordered. Now that's one burden gone, with the carriages being reinforced with magic the man should be safe while he took care of these riff raffs.
"You see that boys? The Young Master's threatening us." The leader joked, followed by the others' chorus of replies.
"I bet he's just pulling it out of his ass."
"He's trying to scare us hah."
"The boy's just bluffing his way through, I mean he doesn't even have any guards."
"Simply because we don't need them." Someone said from the side. The haughty tone drew the attention of both Huey and the bandits. Neil ruffled his hair languidly as he stepped out of the carriage with Lein, neither of them bothering to pay close attention to the malicious group surrounding them. Instead, they made eye contact with Huey.
"Huey," Neil said, the name sounding strange coming from his mouth. "Despite your many shortcomings I'm sure you must have learned something from all those lessons with Sir Joseph Kartlov." He skimmed his fingers over his sword scabbard, slowly and surely drawing the rich blade out of its encase with the clean noise of iron against iron. He garnished it beneath the light against his opponents tauntingly.
"So show it."
Huey bristled, his focus diverting to the carriage storage where it held his weapon. Just his luck. "I could say the same to you."
The twins got into the same stance, matching blades locked parallel to each other both thrumming with thin energy.
Neil huffed, his mouth tilting up into a smirk.
"Brat."
The brothers moved first. Swinging their swords as they weaved around each other in perfect synchrony. Neil would defend and Lein struck, backing each other's shortcomings up and strengthening their strengths. It was mesmerising, the way the two quickly incapacitated their opponent.
Likewise Huey couldn't just stand idle.
He breathed, "Quick and easy."
He stepped forward and moved his torso to the side, dodging a stab of a machete. He grabbed the arm holding the weapon and dragged the man forwards and off balance. He clutched their head and slammed his knee into their face, delivering a quick zap in the process, rendering the bandit brain dead for at least a few minutes (with a broken nose).
Letting the man fall, Huey pushed away two coordinated attacks using a brief spell to temporarily create a magnetic field. The two weapons, a mace and a sword bounced away from him and instead stuck together. The irritated yelps of their owners were cut short as Huey punched them in the throat. They wheezed, the air knocked out of them as they fell back.
Three down, two more to go.
One of them, the bald one, jumped when he turned around. He squealed, "Boss, w-what should we do? The boy's using magic!"
The leader scowled as he smacked his underling's back. "Stop being a wuss, just follow my lead."
The leader held onto his spear and charged forwards, jabbing at him from a distance. Huey jumped back, evading the attacks in quick succession. He clicked his tongue, the man must've found out he couldn't use his magic outside a specific range or else he'll risk setting the forest ablaze. He couldn't use the rope spell either, too many things could go wrong with it... unless?
Huey narrowly avoided a horizontal slash to his waist by leaping upwards, his feet met the carriage and he used it to propel himself forwards. He swung his leg, wacking the baldy across the head, debilitating him. He dropped to the ground, using momentum to forcefully crash the baldy into the leader with a strenuous kick to the back. Using the millisecond opportunity for the collision, Huey materialised a rope of crackling lightning. The long strand of electricity snaked together as he threw one of the ends, the entire thing slipping out of his grasp and tying itself around the two as though it were alive. The low thrum and sharp crackling hissing in their ears.
"Agh! You- get off me, ugh what is this?!" The man screamed, struggling against the confines with his chest pressed flush against the bald bandit.
"Struggling is futile, you'll only make it tighter." Huey warned before applying the same spell to the others. By the time he finished and looked up Neil and Lein were long done with their group. All of them lying either unconscious or writhing in pain on the ground, nothing like the state of the perpetrators. The twins held not a hair out of place as they ordered the coachman to tie them up before nonchalantly retreating back to the caravans—yawning even! Huey cringed, feeling a sense of pity for the bandits not even being treated as game but more like discarded toddler toys. Huey didn't know what was worse, to be regarded as a mere insect or to be actively ridiculed and jeered (even if the twins had toned down a lot over the years).
—:･ﾟ✧ —
"Father, we're back." Neil announced as the three of them straightened their posture, standing still before the duke not bothering to offer a single glance at his sons and nephew.
"Anything to report?" Duke Heiden mumbled, the crisp scratching of his feather pen against the mountain of paperwork etching a suffocating sensation through them like nails against a chalkboard. Neil swallowed his words, regathering them before speaking.
"There has been nothing of note at the academy, me and Lein's grades still remain at the top five of our year. Furthermore, Lein—"
"Neil," The stern emphasis on his name made him freeze, not even daring to breathe. As though one breath would be strong enough to collapse his windpipe. Heiden signed his signature on the paper and reached out for another. "Do not speak for him."
"...Yes, understood." The older twin stifled a refute and casted a peek at Lein, who all but froze up at having the spotlight abruptly ripped from his brother and unsolicitedly onto him.
Lein swallowed, his eyes looking everywhere but at his father. The boy inhaled sharply, not knowing why his stomach refused to uncoil and his breathing failed to steady. He had the words in his mind, all he needed to do was voice them out, but when he opened his mouth, nothing but a vague synopsis came out. "...I have managed to move up..two ranks on the leaderboard..." That's not all, he wanted to say. There's so much more I've accomplished for you.
"Is that all?"
"..."
Heiden sighed disappointedly, all his attention leaving his youngest son. "Huey, what about you?"
The boy in question clenched his fist behind his back in an attempt to smother his shaking. The room was spinning and it may soon drag him along with it. Like vertigo despite standing still, the scratching of pen against paper dragged a barbed wire through his psyche.
"Nothing to note, my grades remain in the top twenty." He quickly concluded, hating the way his voice shook and cracked. He just wished for this exchange to end quicker than it already does. Contrary to his wishes, like always, his uncle seemed to go against him in every way possible.
"I've heard that you've abandoned your little bad habit?" Heiden asked.
Words eluded Huey hearing the way the duke just oh so casually downgraded his blatant criminal acts as a little habit. The last time his uncle did this was when he was younger, around six or eight. Stricken with a harsh fever he had incidentally run into his uncle while trying to get fresh air in the gardens. He could hardly compose himself what with the illness running amok in his small body especially under the towering presence of the duke. In the end, the situation escalated to his condition exacerbating at that exact moment. Unable to handle it, Huey lost composure and cried only to get lashed across the face.
"Cease your little tantrum."
It took a couple moments for him to respond, the nagging feeling to say something more eating away at his trachea. His head swam in delirium as he stamped the feeling out like popping bubbles or brushing his hand through clear waters. He barely wrung out words, it coming out terse and dry against his tongue.
"...Yes, I've realised my 'habit' only strives to weigh me down."
"Hm," The man hummed, low, nothing to give way to what he felt. Whether he felt anything at all.
Neil spoke again, cutting through the silence. "...Father, there's something else."
"What?"
"Earlier today, we encountered a bandit attack." He squeezed his hands, the pain of his nails cutting through layers of skin on the flesh of his palm a clumsy anchor.
Debased expectations hidden in a mirage of an opportunity dwindled.
"And?"
And extinguished.
Neil swallowed harshly, unknowingly his line of vision had already met the floor. Doing his best to deny entry to the implications of that simple word, he wanted to take his mind off of it. He was more than willing to take up that idea, but when had things ever been so simple.
Just "and", nothing else. No rise for concern, not even a worrying glance.
Neil did not answer.
The silence seemed to stretch on for eternity as the oldest son soaked in the blatant disregard. He stamped down his hand over zealous expectations which had somehow risen its head again.
"Next time, don't report trivial matters."
He let out a shaky breath before responding. "Yes, my apologies, it was my misforesight." He dropped his arms, one of his hands going underneath the other's sleeves tensely.
Scrrr skkk
The scratch and scrape of writing matched the way Neil picked at his skin. Scratching open finally closed scabs and exposing the inner layers of skin. Ignoring the way his brother's lour intensified at each motion.
Finally, as Heiden moved his arm to grab another sheet of paper, he spoke liberation.
"If that is all, the three of you are dismissed."
The wash of relief and mingles of other emotions was uncanny. The three quietly voiced out their goodbyes and quickly filtered out of the room. The large wooden door ornamented with gold clicking shut. The three young masters of the Astaseul Duchy just stood there, devoid of small talk or any of the usual biting phrases aimed at each other. There was pure silence as they digested their thoughts.
Lein moved first, taking his brother's hand away from the festering old-new wound and squeezing it. He didn't offer any words or phrases of comfort, just taking his twin's hand in his as he led the older one down the corridor.
Huey watched them go, unmoving from his spot until they were completely out of sight and even more so. It was in moments like these, when their blood truly made itself known. He waded through the thick of the fog as he walked away down a familiar path.
He wondered how the others were doing.
The first thing that happened to him when he reached the east wing was see a very eager maid run up to him. Without a doubt Huey prepared himself for the inevitable impact. Elaine catapulted herself at her young master and engulfed him in a large embrace as she wept (and he yelped).
"Young Master, are you okay?! No wounds, no one I need to beat up?!" Huey could barely retch his body to the side to avoid getting smothered, patting the maid's arms comfortingly. She must have heard from the other servants about the bandit incident (who were now secured and ready to be sent off to the prisons).
"Again, please don't beat anybody up for me." He whined. Eventually the girl's bear crushing hug was lifted off of him as Owen stepped into play, pulling the maid off of him.
Huey muttered a thanks as he straightened his back. He looked at Owen's face which remained the same as his memories, his eyes tracing over scar tissue and the unnaturally light shade of the blind eye. The laurel pupil unfocused. Huey jerked his focus away from it and for the briefest of moments he thought he saw Owen flash a small smile.
"Welcome home, Young Master." The butler's signature stoicness was welcoming.
Right, "home." The youth chortled, returning a smile of his own.
"I'm back."