The Morality of a Boy | POV

[clearlynoko 201]

 

 

[!] This is a POV post, only to show character development and is not known in roleplay unless explicitly told or you were there.

 

[!] A young boy’s hands, covered in blood.

 

 The events of the morning had not phased him much. Truth be told, he had figured his sister Lucrezia had found a gaggle of women to bring for high tea, as very like her. He took part for pleasantry, wanting to get back to his notes for his thesis and his studies in alchemy. The young Lord Adonis disdained social interaction, but had long since come to the realization it was necessary.

 

So, he played along. He smiled, greeted, spoke pleasantries. Adonis felt a bit more relieved when his father had entered the room, for he was a far more kindred spirit than the talks of tea typically let on. 

 

The tea in his cup trembled, and Adonis had taken curious notice before he was sent forward into the table. His heart dropped to his stomach, and he immediately scrambled out of his seat, taking cover. One of the women sheltered him. The strange woman he hadn’t thought much of before.

 

Crash, crack, splinter.

 

Then, the chandelier came crashing down. 

 

Adonis screamed, though he wasn’t sure it was heard over the loud shattering of the table. Glass and wood splinters and other debris flew out, and he was lucky to be unharmed. When he lifted his head, Adonis made way straight to his father and Lucrezia, who held each other tightly. It was his father who noticed his sister’s injuries first. Adonis tended to them with a bit of a smile.

 

That was the first time he had ever practiced medicine, rather than just reading about it.

 

 

---

 

The trip to Alba was intended to be a brief one, to scout the remnants of the battle they’d heard of. He had heard his father utter those words, too. Beloved. His beloved. A ghost of a word meant for a woman young Adonis had never met. The woman who died shortly after his birth.

 

A dwarf came rushing in, calling for a medic for his orc friend. Adonis had rushed over with his father and assisted with the removing of the arrow and the spear that pierced his skin. He hadn’t the slightest clue how necessary that moment of training would be.

 

Or how soon. Imperial Guards came rushing through Alba, the stench of blood and sweat and metal wafting through the air alongside the cries and groans of injured men. Adonis was the first on board, calling for the injured to make their way to the clinic. He’d removed an arrow from Miss Esther, and helped bring in Ser Honeywine to be treated. Adonis was not the most experienced of doctors, but he did what he could, and let the experts treat the rest.

 

 

---

 

What truly weighed on his mind was later that night. He was writing his thesis for the Choir of Bene Lissë in the Oakenwald Steakhouse’s private room—for his home had a chandelier crashed into it—and had interviewed plenty enough people to at least start the structure. It was a simple question of morality that he intended to open to discussion.

 

Could a healer wield a blade, with the intent to harm or kill?

 

Could they?

Adonis had no clue. He’d dedicated himself to training the blade as of late, to protect his sister from the plagues of evil. When he’d received the missive from a barmaid, he wondered if the question mattered. 

 

He was off to war in a few months, alongside his brothers. God had always intended him to fight, whether the question was true or not. Whether it was his duty as heir, as the eldest brother, or not. Not just war against man, either, but war against nature itself. How could he possibly fight a mountain, as the whispers he’d heard? Adonis was no Gedeon, no Peter Rovare, no soldier. Adonis was a scholar and a healer, who wielded the blade out of duty and obligation.

 

What did morality matter when the world forced everyone to fight anyway? 

 

Perhaps that was the question that needed to be answered. It was a shame he’d already started his current thesis.

Edited June 29, 2025 by clearlynoko