Chapter 16: Contingency

I awaken before the sun rises. I ready myself for the day putting on my simple clothes that Klessilia gave me then I walk out. I reach for deluge, but he still rests.

I walk outside surrounded by flowers of all kinds covered in dew. A series of lanterns light the area with a shade of orange using wicks of tallow. A maid with red hair sits on a bench by herself. I walk behind her stealthily.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” I shout deeply.

Roselia stand up quickly then stammers, “AHHH, I am so sorry sir! I just wanted to see the sun...Jack?”

I laugh, “Hah, hah, hah, I gave you a fright my lady.”

She blushes deeply then hits me harmlessly on my chest and shoulders, “What is wrong with you...You maniac. I nearly keeled over you devil you...”

She swallows several curses then I offer my arm, “As a gift for forgiveness, would you mind walking with me through this garden?”

She looks around in surprise then points toward herself, “Me?”

“Is there another lovely maiden here?”

She blushes slightly at the compliment while looking down, “Oh I shouldn't. I need to get back to work.”

I use cruelty for my aims, “No need to be so shy. I’m sure you've had plenty of walks with your mother.”

She pales and stiffens.

I then say, “I have as well. If a beautiful lady would walk with me, I would be reminded of the gentle warmth my mother relinquished me during said treks.”

She looks upward with a small smile, “I guess I could fit in a small walk.”

We link arms then proceed down winding walkways. I ask, “So why were you named Roselia?”

“My grandmother had the loveliest rose garden in her backyard. My mother would often play near the roses because of their charm. She told me she named my Roselia in loving memory of her Grandmother.”

“Did you ever play there?”

“Only once. The roses had wilted some, so they lacked their past shine, but I could tell they had once been a sight to behold.”

“So these flowers remind you of both your mother and grandmother?”

“Oh yes. The flowers planted here are made less for beauty of vision and more for beauty of smell though, but the flowers waft a fragrance only heaven could match during the summer.”

“My mother also enjoyed flowers. She always told me, ‘I might not be the prettiest lady, but there ain't no lady as pretty as a bouquet of roses.’ I can’t help but disagree. I think she just meant she thought nature was more beautiful than any human.”

“I would have to agree with your mother...I’m sorry if discussing this bothers you.”

“Quite the contrary. My parents live on only in my memory. Their legacy ends with me, but if you know of their brilliance then their memoir may live longer yet.”

“Where did you learn to talk like that Jack?”

“My father was both a poet and an actor. My fluency arises from his ashes as my intellect sires from my mother’s mind. They told me I was always the best of both of them. I aim to prove them correct,” I say while grinning bashfully.

“Well you appear more adorable than them in my eye,” she teases.

My face reddens, “Bah. Compliments are not my forte Roselia.”

She giggles, “For such a smooth talker you sure have a glaring weakness.”

“My weaknesses decide my strengths. Just as I struggle with accepting compliments, I flourish when faced with insult.”

“Perhaps. I myself struggle when caught off guard.”

“I noticed earlier. You looked like a Titan Badger growled at you,” I say while snickering.

She moves her arm out from around mine then pushes me lightly away while saying, “Alright then Romeo. I must be getting back to work.”

“Surely you have time for the sunrise?”

“Unfortunately not. I shall see you later Sir Jack.”

“Please. Just Jack Roselia.”

“Maybe later Sir.”

Roselia carries an ambiance I rather enjoy. She livens conversations with her wit, and she holds a normal beauty approachable by men. I wish she stayed.

I finish my routine for trelling involving a flurry of hooks and various foot positions. Most fights I’m in involve taking a strike from my opponent then Deluge lashing out murdering them in fear. Self defense proves worthy of time and effort with each passing day as my enemies grow in number.

I walk back inside the mansion where I prepare my own bath of icy water. The chill cools the lingering warmth of the workout nicely. I throw on my spiffy outfit and head toward the auditorium. The rooms obviously empty, but I have played many a symphony alone.

I string my harp and notice the worn strings groan under the tension in the harp. My mother’s harp means something only when used. Unfortunately I need extra strings. I have around fifty gold worth of silver and bronze coins after Deluge’s carnage. Buying the strings should be simple.

I play the instrument when a string snaps cutting my hand. Deluge instantly regenerates the wound so the pain ends abruptly. The strange sensation disrupts my focus then a piano in the corner of the stage.

I have only played the piano perhaps three or four times in the past. After learning so many different instruments, I can pick up on new ones quickly. The systems of music behind each are very similar while the dexterity of hand required in one instruments often mimics the others.

I find paths for the tones to follow. My long fingers move over the keys rapidly gaining familiarity with the device.

Several hours later I manage a decent composition. I continue playing until I hear the door open revealing Geralt. I pretend he escapes my comprehension and keep playing.

I hear him sit down so I play a booming melody for his ears. The disparity between the notes draws the listener in. I draw from my goals and ambition. I play with reason and cause. I fervently clash with the keys producing a violent hum.

The music paints pictures and enacts scenes of battle. War pervades the territory. The battle rages as our side loses ground. All is lost.

Until a lone soldier regroups with several comrades, and he reroutes the enemy's position. The tides of battle turn, but not for long. Each side sends all of their resources towards the front-lines, yet neither give a single inch of ground willingly.

The fight implodes as the belligerence within each of the participants wanes and all that lies left are legends of the battle.

I notice beads of sweat from my forehead, and they comfort me. They remind me of the message I sent Antoinette. Never forget your passion. Embrace your obsession.

Geralt stands clapping after the performance and says, “Jack. This is why I was able to calm down yesterday. I remembered the talent and respect I had for you. Antoinette told me earlier that she wishes for more of your teaching.”

“I would gladly teach her more. I am sorry if my lesson’s sincerity overwhelmed your daughter. I didn't wish for such an outcome. I just wanted her to invest herself Geralt. She has every opportunity at her doorstep, yet she chooses lethargy. I never had what she has. I guess I acted off envy.”

“Regardless of your intent my boy, I see a change in Antoinette. She believed herself perfect from birth. You tore that out when you showed her concentration she had never seen judging from the remains of the violin.”

“Yeah...I reacted harshly. I shall show more prudence with my further lessons.”

“It would be wise to evade such dramas. Let us leave this event behind us. I wronged you as well...Do you wish for breakfast? You've been here for hours now according to Roselia.”

“I’m actually rather famished as I went and slept early yesterday.”

We reach the kitchen where a meal lies waiting. The meal was a staple soup/salad combo for a light meal that left you energized rather than sluggish.

Afterwards I play during Geralt's work invoking his gusto. He finishes his work at record pace leaving me free for other activities.

I search for Roselia when Antoinette appears. I awkwardly pass by her avoiding eye contact. She then says,

“When is our next tutoring session? I will admit that your ferocity may have shocked me yesterday, but I wish to continue. I really felt alive yesterday after your performance. So much so I ran in hysteria telling my father I'll change ways.”

She takes a breath then continues, “I couldn't let him see me like that so I locked my room. He seemed worried earlier when he asked me about the whole thing. He didn't react to badly did he?

“He slammed a paper weight against my skull,” I show her the wound. Deluge snickers.

Antoinette replies, “I shall have a word with him later Jack. He knows nothing of a young maiden's mind.”

“No one does my lady.”

“Well either way I intend to follow through with what I told daddy.”

My mind races finding no explanation for her current behavior. I played a violin till it broke then snapped it in front of her like a madman. How could she possibly want more of that?

I reply awkwardly, “Whenever you're uh...Ready for another session.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Deluge comments, “Slick.”

I think, “Go back to sleep.”

Antoinette replies, “I am ready now. Let's go.”

I follow her reaching the study were I exploded yesterday with an open book covered in symbols. She looks toward me with an expectant glance and says,

“I shall teach you during this session.”

I look at the foreign language. I understand numbers. I cannot read them.

“I do not know the symbols for numbers. I simply refer to them by their names.”

She gives a look of complete and utter astonishment. She then says, “How can you not even know the characters?”

“I have never read a book. I have only read signs and messages my father wrote me. Not everyone has the opportunity to learn those skills.”

“Well then we shall simply have to start from the basics then.”

We begin a quest against the vile scourge known as math. She recites the statistics while pointing at the symbols. I memorize the first ten then she wants to memorize the next ten. She points towards fifteen when I say,

“So basically the numbers just repeat except with the symbol for one ahead of them?”

“Uh...Yeah. I guess so.”

“So let's just move on toward the next ten.”

“Alright then...Here. this is twenty.”

“Ohhhhh. So the numbers simply repeat over and over upon a ten based system?”

“I guess....Maybe?”

“Show me a list of the numbers till one hundred.”

She writes the figures down. I look at them for a couple of seconds then conclude, “Yes they do. I know all the symbols now.”

She stares at me for a moment then she says, “Ok write down the number for one hundred and thirty four.”

I write the character quickly.

She then asks for a different series of integers before she's satisfied. Antoinette then scoffs,

“So you are now equivalent to an elementary student. Be proud.”

“Your insult propagates deaf ears. I have never been to a school. The vast majority of people haven’t, so when you say elementary I don’t know what that means.”

She sighs loudly then drops the issue. Antoinette then explains addition.

“When you fuse one and two together you get three. Understand.”

“...So the process is akin to currency?”

“Uhhh...What?”

“The numerals are the same as in currency. Like one gold coin and another make two gold coins. The objects don't fuse though Antoinette. The symbol represents the amount of individual units. Not the symbol itself.”

“Uhhh...I don’t understand Jack.”

“Just give me problems to solve.”

We move past addition then I get her to skip subtraction as it merely mirrors addition. We arrive at multiplication.

“When you see this symbol it means that these numbers equal this number.”

She then goes through the same memorization process until we have reached the third set of multiplication tables. I then say,

“So in other words these digits represent sets of the numbers adjacent to them?”

“Uhhh.....”

“So you take four times four. That is simply four sets of fours.”

“Probably...”

“It surely is. Then four times twelve is simply four twelves or forty eight?”

“Jack...How do you already know the twelve times table?”

“This isn't like memorizing a song Antoinette. These are just series and patterns is all. Once you understand the mechanics behind the process the rest reveals itself to you.”

“Jack. Nothing you say makes any sense.”

“Let's just move on.”

We move through subjects for hours until we reach the concept of variables. The fact my beloved letters of music join the forces of the newly formed letters complicates things. I reach a pause where I grow frustrated at the concept.

She says, “It’s about time we pause anyway. This grows tedious.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, we have been doing this for hours. I would rather enjoy a bit of reading or some tea and social time.”

“How far have you progressed in the study of mathematics?”

“I have reached formulas and areas of objects. It will take a long time for you to catch up.”

“Maybe. Impart for a time the math book you have.”

Antoinette lends me the thickest book and yellow parchment. I understood what I must do. The fact that such a narrow minded and dull person has beaten me in any area of study whatsoever disturbs me greatly. I shall not allow such travesty lodging.

I eat lunch then immediately I go toward a different study. There I read the book from one side until I reach a series of problems after the concepts are explained. I then finish all of the problems. I perform these actions until dinner.

I eat dinner then immediately slam my head into the book again. The process is tedious, but so are many things in life. I reach over a fifth of the book when my eyelids grow heavy. I then rest myself amidst a sea of numerators.

-------------------------

I awaken then immediately drink water and perform the equations of the book again. I only leave my prison for meals and the expulsion of waste. My mind sifts through the desert of equations with each grain of sand being a decimal. I methodically and relentlessly dismantle the problem before me.

I stay like this for several days. I perform the exercises given until they are easily performed then I move on. I finish the book in five days refreshing me through the eradication of ignorance. I perform equations for areas and for the dastardly variables with ease. No formulation flees my grasp. I crush them all within an iron, calculating fist.

The next morning I eat my breakfast swiftly giving a variety of compliments for the chef's mastery. Afterwards I compel Roselia for communication with Antoinette. Antoinette walks toward the study I am performing equations in.

She scoffs, “You tell me to work harder then you disappear for a week without a word. Where have you been?”

“I have learned all the knowledge within this book,” I say while pointing toward the book.

“So you're telling me you now know areas and variables with all the stuff they do?”

“Yes, I just told you I know what's in the book now.”

She drips with skepticism while saying, “I'm sure you do. Let's give you a test from the back of the book.”

“I already performed several of the tests. Here they are. Everything should be correct on them.”

She looks through the tests for several minutes on the easier tests. She then attempts correcting the harder ones, but I correct her seven times in a row before she takes the tests and gives them to Geralt for grading.

Geralt looks through the tests until he reaches the hardest ones. I correct his mistakes when he says, “You never told me you had mastered arithmetic as well. When did you learn this if not at a school?”

“I learned arithmetic over the last eight days.”

Geralt looks at me for a second before inquiring, “You learned...Arithmetic...In eight days?”

Antoinette interjects with a hollow voice, “He didn't know what numbers were...He knows it better than me now daddy.”

Deluge helped me as well. He and I worked on different concepts from each other then explained them so we could learn faster. Deluge and I shared our conscious during much of the time. The strange sensation felt like two magnets with the same charges being forced together, but we managed the process even though we couldn't move while doing so. These two needn't know this.

Geralt bores holes in my eyes, “Did you not know uh... Numbers eight days ago?”

“I did not know the symbols for numbers before then. I obviously used mathematics before then.”

Geralt genially replies, “Have you ever considered schooling?”

“Never. I can’t afford such expensive training.”

“You seem able. Tell me would you attend an academy?”

“Of course.”

Geralt grins wide, “How about attending the greatest institute across the land?”

Mareovosa.