It was a depiction of a family. At first with scrutiny, Ash slowly began to realize what he was looking at. It was a family picture of his mother and father.

His mother had long pink hair and eyes the same shade. She had a small smile on her face and carried a small bundle within her eyes. Her face reminded Ash of his own, except he would’ve never made an expression as soft or enchantingly bright as hers. To her right was a kind looking man with silver hair and eyes. He had a gentle looking demeanor unbecoming of the current head of the Kurtons. The atmosphere between the two of them was affectionate in a way Ash never saw Noah with Marybelle, his stepmother.

“I…never saw him smile like that.”

It was a jarring sight to see him so friendly. More than that. The shock gave way to a burning flame of rage.

“Fuck. What the fuck is this useless shit?!”

It couldn’t be his. It was just a portrait, but it felt as if he was denied and lied to.

Ash kicked at the portrait in a fit of rage. Clenching his fists, he hammered his hand against the painting and wrecked the beautiful mural. The edges were beginning to look more like shreds of paper, the faces of the people torn apart by his hands.

There weren't many remnants of his mother left within the mansion. Her name was Hyacinth, and she had apparently taken care of him for the first few years of his life until she had passed away. He was told he was loved by her. That she nursed him, held him in her hands, played with him disregarding the fact that he had a nanny that would have raised him in her stead. That was how it was amongst noble families.

Regardless, it wasn’t a story that Ash could find comfort in. There were numerous people who cursed her pink hair and red eyes, believing her to be a beast specter despite her frail body that was undeniably human. At the very least if she were a beast specter, she would’ve probably survived from her poor health…

He slowly raised his head towards the ceiling and bitterly looked at the drab dungeon-like room. A portrait kept a secret in a hidden room.

There was nothing sweet that came from thinking about what could’ve been.

It was a troublesome idea. That things would’ve been different had it not been for her death.

He eyed the shreds of paper at his feet. His mother’s beautiful face was in scraps now, along with his father’s. The baby was a mess of a white bundle, and the bodies of the lovely couple were a clump of vague paint and paper. There was no longer a way to discover what the image had originally been.

It was only when Ash finished his handiwork thoroughly that he stopped to question the voice.

“...Oi bastard, what’s with your deal?”

“Ash. Why aren’t you happy? This is the first time you were able to see your mother. You look pretty similar to her, my little protagonist.”

Those very same features earned him years of scorning from peers and adults. His pink hair had been dyed pitch black as long as he could remember, his eyes feared as a monster’s.

His mother was not a monster, he knew. Neither was he. Yet they continued to scorn both Hyacinth and Ash for being different.

“Useless cunt…who the fuck…could be happy when you practically threw this shit at me?! What the fuck am I supposed to think?! So my parents were happy together once. That doesn’t matter for shit anymore!”

Jackson had purposely omitted that it was about his mother, leading him directly here to see for himself. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the portrait. The wall had the remainder of a torch that nevertheless still burned. There was only one person who would willingly come see a portrait of Hyacinth, someone who knew this room existed, someone who was in the portrait.

It was his father.

It was his father who remarried his stepmother quickly, who he believed to have cared for work more than family. The same father that ignored his cries for work, indifferently looked at his children as heirs for the Kurton family, who never left his office even for his birthday. To be forced to admit that the distant father had looked upon the portrait out of love for his dead wife wasn’t something Ash was willing to accept. Yet he had no choice because no one else would’ve cared about Hyacinth. And it hurt. It hurt to admit that he was wrong.

“Ash. Admit to it. It wouldn’t have worked if I was simply a hallucination born from your memories.”

At the end of the day he played like a fiddle. He’d have to admit to it. Despite his will…he was at the mercy of someone who knew exactly what affected him.

“Jackson. You exist. And…what you say is…”

Ash stilled himself but couldn’t stop his fists from clenching.

“Fucker. Fucking shit!”

With a light tone Jackson responded to him.

“I never said I was a good or kind person, my protagonist.”

With a wry smile the Scriptor continued.

“All I want from you is one thing, Ash. I want you to survive. I want you to become strong enough to do so–and to be able to hold onto your freedom.”

“Freedom…freedom my ass.”

There was no point in questioning Jackson for his motives. He knew nothing of him. Neither what wanted for or what mattered to him. All he could do was listen to him and wonder of the truth, and that was enough to make Ash fearful of how he’d be influenced.

“It may seem like this now, you moody fourteen year old kiddie. But don’t you worry! I’m amazing at child rearing hahaha. You’ll grow nice and strong someday.”

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“I…what the hell…”

Ash’s face was a disorderly mess. His scrunched up face was filled with a sense of loss.

“Oh! Now that’s a new reaction.”

“Tch.”

With a small fake cough, the annoying bastard continued in a grim voice..

“There’s something else you need to know. There will be a rebellion in the Kurton territory in two years, which will result in the death of your father and the rest of your family.”

“Bastard. What the fuck did you just say?!”

Ash was in shock after the second revelation about his father within the afternoon.

“Your father, Noah Kurton will lose his life protecting his family in an anti nobility rebellion. Now are you interested in hearing me out how to help your dear dad?”

The Scriptor casually repeated himself as if it were a leisurely task. Ash couldn’t help but clench his teeth in frustration.

After a brief pause, he spat out his words in distaste.

“Bastard cough up all your shit.”

Ash left the underground room after he cleared his head a little. Jackson hummed softly as he did so, watching the boy look uneasy as the door to the stairs closed behind them.

“Too little too late you rabid chihuahua.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Ash would be most likely held responsible, not that Jackson particularly cared. He doubted he’d be punished by Noah much.

After making a broad sweep of the area and making sure everything returned to its place, Ash left the library and headed to his bedroom.

It took a while to get there, but Ash walked in as quickly as he could before sighing.

Ash comfortably seated himself in his room. It was a modest bedroom with only the necessary furniture, but the quality of the items was unmistakable. There was a richly painted nutmeg colored drawer at the foot of a king sized bed, which was perfectly tidy from the maids who maintained the room.

Jackson whistled appreciatively. There were several other items Jackson was surprised to see within the sullen boys bedroom.

A plush toy was carefully tucked away underneath Ash’s table. The desk was piled to the brim with paper and paint, with small plants cozily sitting on top of a rather disturbing drawing.

It was a depiction of a man. His eyes were sown and stranded across his face with a needle and thread in hand. They were cusping his cheeks in nonchalant boredom. There wasn’t an expression that could be gleaned from his ruined eyes, but his mouth was in a twisted smile that was more of a gash across the lower half of his face. His hair was the color of white snow and contrasted against the background of black. The blood filled, mutilated eye sockets were increasingly disturbing in contrast to the eerily collected nonchalance of the drawn man. It seemed as though nothing in the world would be able to affect them.

Jackson knew that Ash was a painter, often splashing paint around on canvases in his anger. Yet he had never vividly described any of his pieces nevermind this strange one Ash had made as a teenager.

It felt wrong. As though a secret he had kept was not quite a secret but instead a misleading cover for what was underneath it.

“My dear protagonist. You make very amusing things.”

“Bastard stop looking if it bothers you so much.”

“In fact, I’m rather interested in that face. Did you have someone in mind when you made it?”

Interesting. He wasn’t blowing up as much as usual. Jack inferred that being in his personal private space was enough to placate the screechy kitten a little.

He shelved that piece of information for the future.

Ash hesitated for a second, furrowing his brows in frustration before slowly relaxing and responding succinctly.

“No. I painted him as a blank slate.”

“Alrighty~ I understand my dear protagonist.”

He wasn’t willing to say more than those few words. The little gerbil had a large bite to him.

“Now to the main topic! We’re going to discuss your future. There are many things I know about you, Ash Kurtan. Well, that I will know of you. Ash Kurton, the bastard son of a noble with a peculiar judicial streak. From your stepmother, your sibling, to your distance to your father. Regardless of how you may feel about the intrusion we’ll be forced to work together for your future. I believe changing the predetermined end that I had written for you– of losing control of your autonomy to someone else– will be the result I need to create now that I have also become a part of your story.”

“Bastard. Enough of the crap I don’t fully understand, nor will understand unless you tell me more. What did you mean when you said the count would die?”

It wasn’t surprising that he asked such a thing to start off. Jackson smiled a little at his predictability. He was caring, although still a jagged little punk.

“Oh my, oh my. In the first year you enter the Magisterium, a riot will occur in the Kurton territory after Noah is exposed for his connections to slave merchants. As you know, in Windcir slave trafficking is a grave crime after King Andre’s rise to the throne. The general public’s sentiment of the Kurton territory has shifted wildly over the past ten years for sympathy towards the beast specters. So when Noah’s connection was brought to light in conjunction to the people’s starvation after a flood, the Kurton family was erased from Windcir’s noble families. Noah, your brother, and your stepmother. Everyone is dead other than the bastard son— Ash Kurton, who was abroad at the time.”

“Tch. Stop fucking around asshole! So tell me, are you just going to mouth off about him or tell me some answers!?”

“Ash, relax a little. There is only so much you and I can do about the situation–because I do not know the one who began the uprising, nor the forces involved. I only know the public sentiment was horrible due to a recent flood that ruined all the crops. You aren’t denying your father’s involvement. In other words, you think your father trafficked beast specters. And despite that you want to save him, as your father.”

Jackson had not described Noah Kurton in full detail within his story. He was simply a distant and cold man who was compliant to Ash’s wants but avoided him for the most part. But. There was one line he had written in there.

“Noah regarded Ash as all that remained of his beloved mistress that passed away.”

Regardless of his moral character concerning beast specters, Noah would not treat Ash horribly.

“If you don’t know shit then don’t talk crap. I don’t have any reasons to believe you, fucker–and I know nothing about your dodgy ass.”

“Ash! My heart can't take such wild accusations!.”

Jackson dramatically swayed and fainted comically. It seemed as if Ash heard his words with one ear and they went out the other. Sighing in his heart as his willful teen with selective hearing, he decided to not question him any further.

“Oi! Stop messing around!”

“Tch.”

So not cute.

“As you desire, I’ll prevent the flood from occurring. That much I can assure you. Because the flood was a result of a water mage–not a natural disaster. In two years right before the Harvest Festival, we will go to the Habnerst Mountains to stop her.”

“So all you have to do now is trust my words. Ash, graduate from the academy. Take over as the next count of Kurton. When you have the authority, I assure you that you’ll be able to react appropriately regardless. You have the ability to become strong. Because Ash Kurton is the strongest assassin in the future I saw.”

In consideration of Ash’s future, it was best for the youth to learn what he had a talent for.

“Bastard. I am not the next successor of Kurton. Curtis is so stop talking bullcrap. The bastard son will never succeed.”

It was tiresome to think about, but he had to press the issue regardless.

“Well, well. I wouldn’t be so certain about that. Have you ever asked your dear old daddy about anything? That man that desires to guarantee your future.”

The stubborn teen scowled and curled his face in bitterness.

“Bullcrap. I barely know him. Always cooped up in his office doing who knows what. How am I even supposed to give a fuck!?”

Ash was barely tolerant. It wouldn’t do any good…

“Fine. For now, it’ll be enough if you were to graduate.”

He hummed a little in contention.

“I’ll do as you say. I would’ve done so even if you hadn’t.”

“But–”

Ash narrowed his eyes menacingly with an expression of absolute rage.

If you dare pull this bullcrap in the future, if I find out you’re lying…I will never, ever forgive you. Until then I’ll be complicit.”

Jackson was a little cautious. Knowing how ridiculously persistent the pink eyed teen would come to be, he knew that he had to save his father at this point. Well, not that he wasn’t prepared.

“Alrighty! It seems like we have struck out a bargain. I hope my little mini version of my hero will become someone worth admiring.”

A child who would end up living frivolously and ended as a sex pet for a crazy obsessive girl. Nonetheless, it seemed that it would become his fate too in an odd twist of karma if he didn’t succeed.

Well, it was fine. There was no need to consider things that were out of his control.

“Let’s get started right away kiddo. First things first. It’s time for you to start training!”

“Hahhh? What does that go–”

“If you want to save your dad, you have to be strong enough to help, little pooch.”

“Tch. You dum–”