The Veilkerhurst were known for having the most rigorous academic program.
The children of the Veilkerhurst family spent most of their life training. They trained for their missions. They trained for the competition for headship. They trained to stay alert. And they trained for the academy. Which Illeuid would be attending in less than three weeks. Or he would if he did not receive a missive from his father about being held back to due to his disappointing prowess.
Illeuid could only look at the note, confused as to what was going on. In every lifetime he had lived, it had not mattered if he had a broken leg, if he had been coughing up blood, or if he had lost some fingers, he had to go to the academy. Any handicap he acquired during his training time at home--though really, it had been nothing short of torture--was something he had to overcome in his free time. Nothing was going to prevent him from obtaining his education at one of the most prestigious academy with the most physically rigorous curriculum. Nothing short of death.
Or in this case, being held back by his father.
Illeuid was pissed. If it had been in his earlier timelines, he would have LOVED to be exempt from the pain and humiliations he was subjected to at Gaulikier Academy. Now that he wanted to actually go, he was being ordered to stay home. He did not understand what he had done now that had shamed Vlaus Veilkerhurst to the point that he would risk being talked about than have his weakest son experience getting the brakes beaten out of him. But he was not going to to just sit around and do nothing. He marched out of his room towards his father's office. Maybe it was the look on his face, or how there were now sounds of heavy drumbeats accompanying each of his stomps, whatever it was was enough to make the servants dive out of his way in alarm as he made his way towards his father. As he passed by Brakus--who looked around as if to detect the source of the strange music before locking eyes onto the youngest Veilkerhurst--he wrapped his arms from his older brothers forearm all the way down to his wrist and dragged him along with him. The momentum was enough to undermine all protest as Illeuid delivered himself and Brakus to their father's office.
Illeuid almost faltered when he saw their mother, but he knew making his case was worth any of her sarcastic inputs and he continued on anyway.
"Father, " Illeuid did not even wait for acknowledgement, his audacity robbing Brakus of any words. "I am in need of some clarification!"
Vlaus paid him no mind.
"Why am I being exempt from attending Gaulikier Academy! Brakky and Priscilla are still attending!" He would have grabbed his older sister as well if she was in the hall at the time, but he wanted to avoid her throwing acid in his face.
Vlaus did something different. He actually answered this time. "You've shown too little control in your skills to even be considered ready to attend."
Illeuid felt his face flush. "That is why I should be allowed to go, father!" he insisted. "I need the challenge to improve in skill."
His father made it clear that that would not happen. "You will not go and embarrass the Veilkerhurst family. You will be under tutelage for a year to see if you can even dredge up some level of control before you are allowed the privilege to go."
In the past, Illeuid would have backed down, As far as they knew, he should be wilting in shame and skulking back to his room. But he was beyond being railroaded to do their bidding.
"I will not stand for this!" Illeuid knew that he made a mistake as soon as the words left his lips. Not because he was essentially throwing his life away by way of a tantrum. No, it was because he knew that idioms and colloquialisms could no longer be used innocuously. As with many of his past mishaps--all resulting from him practicing his news skill--had led to the discovery that idioms led to looking like an idiot. And now it was in full effect. He felt his legs grow numb, his arms acted like pinwheels as he tried to keep his balance, but it did not matter. He fell to the side, landing hard enough that the air became compressed in one lung as it flattened and the other hit the side of his ribs. It took a moment for them to settle and return to their original shape.
These gags are becoming painful, he told his system.
You're getting the hang of it, dear player. The system told him, making sure to make its tone encouraging. He could just tell that it was laughing at him, having taken to clearly enjoying his pain.
Brakus, whose presence he just recalled, lost his temper and stalked up to him.
"Would you stop being so stupid and actually take this seriously?"
Illeuid pointedly looked at his shoes, where the laces had somehow loosened from each boot and tied themselves together.
Brakus's face flushed and he continued to rant at the fallen child. "You will pick yourself up right now and show respect to father."
Illeuid nodded as sardonically as possible. "And you could either keep yelling at me or even more useful, give me a hand."
There was a pause.
"You can get up." Brakus told him, his tone broking no room for argument.
"Obviously, " Illueid said as he pointedly, once again, looked at his entangles shoe laces. "I cannot."
"I will not subject myself to entertaining your bout of foolishness."
Illeuid studied him for a moment, his sarcastic smile shrinking into nothing for a moment before reappearing in a brighter and more serene manner. Ironically similar to Lady Reina's. He instead managed to hold his upright position as he stopped using one arm for support, used said arm to reach for the other one that he held out to Brakus, pulled it out of its socket before he then held the separated appendage to Brakus. The added length extending closer to the disturbed older boy. He flinched when Illeuid waved his dismembered arm at him. Lady Reina, no longer willing to allow this travesty to go on, walked from around her husband's desk, reaching for said arm and wrenching the youngest Veilkerhurst to his feet. She leaned down to his ear and whispered:
"You will put that arm back in its place and behave yourself."
Illeuid put on an exaggerated pout, but he obeyed. He put his arm back into the socket, shifting it--subjecting them all to the unsavory noises of muscles and viscera rubbing against each other--until it locked into place.
"He was the one who didn't want to help me up..." the younger boy muttered, as if to pass blame onto his older brother. He stopped at his mother's sharp look. It was not dissimilar the one his original mother gave him. Though Lady Reina still had her ever present smile, her eyes took on a more darker look with the faux softness sharpening in intensity. Illeuid felt his body automatically snapping to attention; another effect of his new skill.
Reina took her time walking up to the young boy, the sounds of her boots adding to the more tensed ambience. Once she reached him, she bent down until they were eye to eye.
Her smile softened, something that Illeuid once found comforting before he picked up on the condescension filtering through her words.
"You will stay home," her words brooked no room for complaints. "You will be trained until your new...particular skills. And you will. Not. Demand. Anything. More."
Her smile sharpened to emphasize her point.
None said anything for awhile. Illeuid studied his mother's face. Then he dramatically ran out of the office, the sounds of shattering glass following behind him to represent heartbreak. The other Veilkerhurst could only dread what else may be over the horizon with the youngest quickly accumulating pecularities.