Entry #2

The air in the capital clinic smelled faintly of antiseptic and old books. Behind the tall stained-glass windows, golden light poured into the marble hallways.

Sir Theodore leaned against the frame of his study door, arms crossed, watching Claudio as he packed his satchel with papers and vials.

“So… you’ve decided to return to your hometown,” he said, voice soft but resolute.

Claudio paused, glancing over his shoulder. “The Royal Family and you have been more than kind to me, Sir Theodore. I owe you everything.”

The old man smiled faintly beneath his salt-and-pepper beard. “Don’t speak of debts, boy. I saw potential in you the moment you questioned our textbooks. Most doctors memorize. You—challenge.”

Claudio offered a respectful bow. “Still, thank you for trusting me.”

“As much as I’d like to keep you here,” Theodore continued, “I know when someone is being called by more than duty. Your town needs you, Claudio. Go—but come back. When you do, I expect a full report on your Scarlet Fever research.”

“You’ll have it,” Claudio said, securing the leather satchel over his shoulder. “Farewell, Sir Theodore.”

The carriage wheels groaned as they cut through the muddy path leading toward the gates of Atrium. The trees looked brittle. The sky was colorless. Where once the town had shimmered with life, now it seemed to rot quietly under its own weight.

Claudio pulled aside the curtain and looked out. “Welcome home,” he whispered to himself.

In the heart of the Quartinus estate, the once-proud patriarch coughed harshly into a bloodied cloth.

Albert, tall and stiff in his formal coat, stood by the bed, eyes filled with helpless worry.

“Father, you need to rest,” he urged. “It’s for your own good.”

“When will the doctor from the capital arrive?” Quartinus croaked.

“Soon,” Albert replied. “The townsfolk are already preparing a welcome. I’ve made arrangements to secure him the moment he arrives.”

Back on the main road, the carriage came to a stop.

“The town looks miserable,” Claudio muttered as he stepped down onto the cobblestone.

“The Scarlet Fever hit everyone hard,” the driver said grimly. “I wouldn’t go any further without protection, sir.”

“I’ll manage,” Claudio replied, handing him a coin. “Thank you for the ride.”

As the carriage disappeared into the haze, Claudio looked around. The streets were lined with thin figures, eyes sunken, clothes ragged. Decay hung in the air.

“Welcome home, Claudio,” he said again, but this time his voice sounded heavier, tired.

A small voice interrupted the silence.

“Are you a god?”

Claudio turned to find a small boy, barefoot, staring up at him with hollow eyes.

“No,” Claudio answered softly. “Just a man, like you.”

“If God were real,” the boy whispered, “why does he let his people suffer? Did we do something wrong?”

Claudio kneeled and reached into his coat. “That’s a question I can’t answer… but here.” He handed the boy a red apple. “It’s not much, but it’s yours.”

“HEY! Lowlife! Get away from the doctor!”

A guard barked from a distance, charging at the boy. The child flinched and bolted down the alley.

“Who dares—?!” Claudio growled, standing.

A familiar voice replied, “Forgive me, but… are you the doctor from the capital?”

The speaker removed his hat.

Claudio blinked. “Albert?”

Albert’s eyes widened. “Claudio?! You’re the one they sent?”

“I am. Why do you seek me?”

Albert looked away, ashamed. “Our father… he’s ill. The same disease that once plagued your old friend’s sister now courses through his blood.”

Claudio’s jaw tightened. “Take me to him.”

The Quartinus estate had aged like milk. Mold crept up the walls, and the once-polished stone felt cold and abandoned.

“Albert!” the old man rasped as they entered. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Father,” Albert said. “I’ve brought the doctor.”

From the bed, Lord Quartinus squinted. “Claudio?”

Claudio stepped closer. “It’s been a long time, Father.”

“You’re a doctor now?” The old man managed a hoarse laugh. “Good. Then you can cure me.”

Claudio shook his head gently. “I’m not a sorcerer. I don’t cast miracles. I do science. And science requires time.”

Quartinus’s smile fell. “So you’ve come back useless.”

“Father—” Albert began, but Lord Quartinus was already turning his face away in disgust.

“Out of my sight. Now.”

Claudio said nothing as he stepped back. Albert followed him into the hallway.

“I want you to cure him,” Albert said quietly.

“And I want that too,” Claudio replied. “But it’s not that easy. Sir Theodore sent me to study the fever. To find a path to understanding, so it never happens again.”

“So you won’t help us?”

“I’m not here to save one man. I’m here to understand the sickness that’s killing all of us.”

He turned to leave. “I’m sorry, brother.”

Back in the town, the same boy from earlier sat huddled beside a broken pillar, eating the apple slowly. He looked up as Claudio approached.

“You came back.”

“I did.”

The boy nodded. “Thank you… for earlier.”

“What happened here?” Claudio asked, eyes scanning the street.

“The heroes stopped protecting us,” the boy answered. “So we were left to protect ourselves. I watched my mother die. Then my father. The plague took them both.”

Claudio sat beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“It’s alright. I asked if you were a god because… you looked like one.”

Claudio tilted his head. “Why?”

“You were dressed nicely. You stood tall. You didn’t look scared.”

Claudio offered a tired smile. “I was in the capital too long.”

“What’s your name?” the boy asked.

“Claudio. And you?”

“Giuseppe.”

“Well, Giuseppe,” Claudio stood and offered a hand, “I have somewhere I need to go.”

“Where are you going?” the boy asked, taking the last bite of the apple.

“To visit an old friend.”

Inside the Delacroix mansion, the atmosphere was calm but heavy. Sunlight streamed through velvet curtains. The scent of brewing tea filled the hall.

Louis stood near the hearth, coat buttoned, posture tense.

“So, the great doctor has arrived in town,” he said.

“Yes, young master,” replied Alfredo, his loyal butler.

Louis sighed. “Since Father and Mother passed, it feels like I’ve been carrying a hundred lives on my shoulders.”

“You only have your sister now,” Alfredo said gently. “That’s a blessing. She’s survived the plague longer than most children ever could.”

A knock at the door broke the silence.

“I’ll get it,” Alfredo offered.

Louis held up a hand. “No, brew the tea. I’ll see who it is.”

He walked to the entrance, fingers brushing the handle. He opened the door—

And froze.

Standing before him, framed in sunlight and dust, was the man he hadn’t seen in years.

“Claudio?”

Entry# 2 End