As the child of a prestigious doctor, Jude had always kept up with his studies diligently in hopes of someday, perhaps, being given the chance to take over the family business. Though he was forbidden to handle spyrix without supervision, he knew the structure of common aspyrixis devices like the back of his hand-as well as some of the rarer forms, from records in books long forgotten in the medical archives-he was well versed in the composition of the human body, and he lacked in no way a strong desire to apply his knowledge. Still, he knew he should regard the idea of becoming a doctor as no more than an empty dream, one which would never come to fruition. After all, he wasn't allowed to leave the house, let alone be the public face of it.
His situation, he'd concluded, was most easily blamed on whatever the mysterious circumstances of his birth were. He had pieced together, through carefully eavesdropping on his father, that at some point during his infancy his mother had been separated from them on the return from a confidential mission far from Trigleph. For fifteen years' worth of life, there could hardly be a satisfying enough explanation for all the bitterness he'd faced constantly from suspicious staff and the rare house guest which he was somehow allowed to interact with, but he'd never let himself dwell in anguish about it. Realistic or not, if he was as "special" as they made him out to be, certainly there must be some good to come of it if only he could earn a chance to show it. It was simply a matter of finding out, from there, just what exactly it was which made him so unique. He was forbidden to question all such matters in his life, and that was a simple fact. As frustrating as it was, it was for his family's sake, in the end, and so he simply accepted such things and moved on.
This blind acceptance of his fate was largely responsible for the ease with which he was able to accept the news which he received that Sunday morning.
"You see, Jude, your family has amassed a rather significant debt to the Svent House," his tutor, she was an affiliate of the Svents, herself, if he'd heard right, explained, "and beginning tomorrow, it will be your duty to pay them off." Tomorrow? It seemed sudden, however he was certain this was not a decision made recently. "I was not informed of the details, but I presume you will be part of their wait staff."
"Is that so?" he mumbled, folding his hands in his lap calmly.
"It would seem so. Poor boy." The older woman heaved a disappointed sigh but held his gaze. "I need you to promise me that you won't forget what you've learned, now, all right?"
He nodded. "I won't, Missus Adler."
She shook her head, closing the book on the table suddenly as though continuing to discuss it would only bring grief. "What a waste of potential, honestly..." At the time, it felt odd to him that she appeared so shaken by it. It was his father's debt, and as his son it was his duty to take care of it in his absence, simple as that. Should he have been more upset, perhaps? He was saddened by the thought of no longer studying with her, of course, but on the other hand, he thought he might finally have a sense of purpose, direction, if he were given a job to do. It didn't sound like the most interesting of jobs, but anything was preferable than wasting away in his daydreams.
He was never going to be a doctor. Maybe now he might finally truly convince himself of that. Missus Adler left soon after delivering the message, leaving him with his borrowed textbooks-so that should circumstances change he would not fall behind, she'd said-and he quickly set off from the study to gather his few belongings from his room. He had little to go off of in terms of expectations for his upcoming situation, but it couldn't, he reasoned, be any worse than this.
He didn't have much to take along with him, just some clothes and a few books, so packing took little time. He slept well, better than he had in a long time, at the prospect of of finally not just seeing the light of day, but actually leaving the house which he'd been locked away in his entire life. It was more and more exciting, the more he thought about it. There was a biting voice in his head warning him to take care in dealing with the Svents, given that even he had caught wind of their infamy, but if dubious politics were involved in this decision, it mattered little to him.
Jude woke up early and got dressed in his finest outfit, a black coat trimmed with vibrant teal which he'd received a few months ago for his sixteenth birthday, and he checked once more to see that his bags were in order. He fixed himself a quick and simple breakfast, and at half-past eight the housekeeper came to find him in the study, guiding him toward the front door which he'd so seldom been permitted to use.
He was surprised to see his father waiting for him outside, his expression as stern as always. He rarely spoke with his parent, but it was reassuring to see him now. "Be careful out there, Jude," the doctor said, clapping his son on the shoulder in perhaps the most genuine gesture he'd ever afforded the boy.
"I will. Thank you," he replied almost nervously, nodding in affirmation. "I won't let you down, Dad." In the boldest move he'd made in a long while, he gave the man an awkward, one-sided hug, before he was ushered into the coach, the door shut promptly behind him. He spared a single glance out the small window of the vehicle, but after that he dared not look back. For sixteen years of his life, he had not a single fond memory which drew his mind to his old home; a new, very different life lay ahead of him now, for better or for worse, and that was what mattered.
