Scenario:Percival - All in Good Time

All in Good Time

While strolling in an east district town, Percival is impressed by a carpenter's son who aspires to be a doctor. But, to his bewilderment, both the boy and his father express doubts that this dream will ever come to pass, despite there being system of scholarly grants.

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All the while Percival keeps one eye on the affairs of the east district, he keeps the other peeled for clues about the cabal.

Not long before he succeeded the territory, he and Aglovale discovered that their middle brother, Lamorak, was himself a member of the organization.

This information rivets Percival to Wales, where he means to further assist Aglovale with investigations.

But the Grandcypher's journey cannot wait, and the young lord is forced to bid farewell to (Captain) and the crew.

He has little time to feel this loss though. His days brim over with the business of governance and detective work. When not writing or reading, he is speaking, interrogating.

Today—yet another conference with the noble. Having just survived this ordeal, Percival strolls by a river in town, letting its soft burble wash his mind of words.

???: Waaah!

Percival: ...!
What is it?

???: Owie! Waaah!

Following the sound to its source, he discovers a ring of children. In their midst, with wooden crates scattered all around her, a girl sits sobbing on the ground.

She cradles a leg, which is drawn up, its scraped knee slowly weeping thin dribbles of blood.

Percival: (She must have fallen while playing. I had better tend to her—)

Boy: You okay? What happened here?

Girl: Sniff... Sniffle... I was running... And then I slipped...

Boy: Man... You got scraped up pretty bad. Wait just a sec. First, I'm gonna boop some disinfectant into this cotton pad. Then, I'm gonna...

With deft movements, the boy treats the injury.

Percival: (Young, but with a level head on his shoulders. He did not blanch at the sight of blood and evinces a strong understanding of medicine.)

Boy: That should do it! I'm guessing it still stings, but can you move your leg all right?

Girl: Yep! It's good as new. Thanks, Doctor!

Boy: Hold on. Before you go, gotta run a few more checks. Mind holding out your wrist and wiggling it back and forth? Yeah, just like that. Anything hurt?

Girl: Nuh-uh! Feels one-hundred percent fine!

Boy: Perf. That means you don't got any sprains. Next, I gotta lay some medical advice on you. Uh...

Boy: Oh, right. No intense exercise if you've hit your head. And if you start feeling dizzy or funny, go straight to a clinic. Got it?

Girl: Uh-huh! Anything you say, Doctor!

The girl leaps to her feet, lively as a wild colt. With the other children, she gathers up the crates, heaps them in short stacks out of the way of traffic, and then dashes off.

Left alone, the boy who had treated her wounds perches himself on one of the box piles. He slings a bag from his shoulder and withdraws a book, two or three times thicker than his own arm.

Percival: (Is that a medical tome? From what I can see, the subject matter is dense—opaque even to adult minds.)

Percival: Hm...

Percival walks up to the boy, whose head, at this point, is completely engulfed by the monstrous primer.

Percival: You there.

Boy: Huh? Me? C-can I help you?

Percival: I watched as you tended to that girl earlier. 'Tis rare to see one of so few years and such sober judgement.

Percival: Your ministrations were swift and precise. You even bent an eye toward the future, checking for sprains and head injuries.

Percival: You must have toiled much to reap such knowledge.

Boy: Oh... Heh...

Boy: That was baby stuff. Just wait 'til I'm a real doctor! I'm gonna be doing operations and researching meds and... And saving lives!

Percival: I doubt not that.

Boy: You know... Two years ago, my mom passed. Before she went, I made her a promise.

Boy: I told her I was gonna grow up to be a super doc—that I'd find the cure to whatever was eating at her.

Boy: I got this book from the old guy over at the used bookstore. It's so ancient, it was written before my mom's disease was even discovered.

Boy: Still, it's got a lot to say. And for a doctor, the more info, the better, right?

Percival: Then you have worked yourself to the bone in honor of your mother?

Boy: Mm-hm!

In a blink, the boy's face darkens, as if someone had flipped a light switch.

Boy: But I'm worried—

???: Hey! Whatcha doing out here?

Boy: Dad!

Father: I thought I told you: every time you leave the house, write me a note! You have any idea how worried I—huh?

Father: Holy mortar of—Lord Percival! H-has this little goofball been bothering you?

Percival: No. Rather, he has been sharing with me his aspirations for the future. You must be proud to have such a son.

The father smiles a tight, crooked smile.

Father: Yeah, it's a sweet little dream. Too bad it won't come true, eh?

Percival: Why do you say that?

Father: Don't get me wrong. I want my boy to have it all. What dad wouldn't? But to climb that social ladder, you need the learning...

Father: And to get the learning, you need the coin. More coin than our humble family of carpenters has seen in ten generations.

Percival: But my brother has instated a system of grants, ensuring families in need shall never want for an education.

Percival: Surely, if you tap into this resource, it will only be a matter of time until your son acquires his license...

Father: Oh, sure, sure. I know all about the grants.

Father: But they're meant for kids with a little more breeding. Not for our sweet little mutt, if you get what I'm saying.

Percival: No. I do not "get what you are saying."

Father: Well, uh... A coat of arms ain't the only mark of a good pedigree. Even among just us common folk, we got status.

Father: We're the lowest of the low, ya know? Manual laborers. These rough hands ain't got no business handling a scalpel.

For two heartbeats, Percival considers how to answer. There seem no words that can crack the face of this serene resignation. Then...

Percival: Boy. Have you anything to say?

Boy: Huh? Me?

Percival: Yes. Do you think your dream is unattainable?

Boy: ...

Boy: Look, uh... Making good on my promise with Mom... It means the world to me.

Boy: But somewhere, deep in my gut, I feel it. When I grow up, I'm gonna be a carpenter like my dad.

Percival: (I see...)

Percival: (Indeed, it has long been the custom for children to carry on the family business. Particularly here in the countryside, where no change comes to uproot old ideas.)

Percival: (But there is some other force at work, setting its will against that of the boy and his father...)

Percival studies the faces of the parent and child, as if their features formed a map that could point him to the source of their despair.

All in Good Time: Scene 2

In conversation with the east district noble, Percival learns that few households utilize the system of grants, likely because the people of Wales tend only to trust skilled professionals from illustrious families. He determines not to let this trend hinder the nation's youth any longer.

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The next day, Percival receives his usual briefing at the family villa.

Noble: All the land taxes have been collected. This year was a bountiful one, and hardly a household failed to pay its dues.

Percival: So I have heard from the farmers.

Noble: Ah, yes. You've been much about the east district, foregoing what little leisure your schedule allows. It's all the people talk about lately.

Percival: The east district is now my duty, and as such, sits foremost in my thoughts.

During this idle exchange of words, Percival's mind is busy, recreating the scene by the river.

Percival: Might I posit a hypothetical to you? A scholar's game, if you will.

Noble: Of course.

Percival: If you were to see a child from the lower classes aiming to become a physician, what would you think?

Noble: A physician?

Several seconds tick by as the noble hunts for the right words.

Noble: Well... First, you must understand that I am no doctor myself and therefore cannot speak with any certainty.

Noble: But at the very least, I have never heard of a baseborn child with such ambitions. I'd be quite surprised if he or she could achieve them.

Percival: Is it a matter of lineage? Surely, it is not one of money. You know as well as I do that my brother offers grants.

Noble: Yes... He may offer them... But whether the people take him up on that offer is a different case altogether.

Noble: In these times, only a child of rare mettle would stretch for that aid.

Percival: Why? What makes the threshold so high?

Noble: Let us pretend this hypothetical child has managed to receive a grant. Not only that, she has done well in her studies and earned her physician's license. But that is not the end of the story.

Noble: After all, doctors are the gatekeepers between life and death.

Noble: If you saw the shadow of the reaper, would you go to a doctor of no name? Or would you turn to one from a medical family of high renown? Most would choose the latter.

Percival: ('Tis true that often name, and not merit, begets reputation...)

Noble: My lord, may I now ask you a question? Why the sudden interest?

Percival: I saw a boy the other day. Studying on his own to become a physician.

Percival: He comes from a long line of carpenters. His own father holds his ambition to be as unattainable as a castle built of clouds.

Noble: Hm... I see.

Percival: (I believe I have discovered the fetters which hinder the boy and his father.)

Percival: (In the currents of this country, lineage has long acted as a buoyant force. But now I see that even as it has raised some to prominence, it has dragged others to obscurity.)

Percival: (Class, like all barriers, creates order at the cost of freedom.)

Percival: Might I put another riddle to you? What if this boy I mentioned, knowing that all odds were against him, yet pursued his ambitions? What would you do?

The noble considers this for the space of several blinks.

Noble: Well, I can speak only for myself, but... If circumstances allowed, I would wish to support the boy.

Noble: Still, it is a steep and thorny path he must take. I wonder if he'll have the willpower to stay his course—once he sets out and gets a hard look at reality.

Percival: ...

Percival: (Walls we can see test the strength of our limbs. But those unseen are harder to topple⁠—for they test the strength of our minds.)

Percival: (But this barrier must come down—and soon. I will not allow its shadow to stunt the promise of our youth any longer.)

Percival: My lord. I have a favor to ask of you.

At first, the noble is taken aback by Percival's request. But after gathering his scattered thoughts, he agrees to everything with a genuine smile.

All in Good Time: Scene 3

Percival introduces the carpenter's son to the east district noble and a highly regarded local doctor, eventually convincing the two that adults and their hardheaded beliefs were robbing children of their futures. His audience, abashed, pledge their services, both to the boy and to Percival, who has shared his own dream of raising a nation where no one is oppressed.

---

Boy: Whoa... This place is humungo!

A couple days later, Percival travels to the noble's manor, accompanied by the boy from the river. In the parlor, the child tiptoes around, as if all the glittering finery were made of glass.

There is a knock at the door.

Noble: I apologize for the delay, Lord Percival.

Noble: Now, without further ado, might I present to you the most highly regarded doctor in the region?

Doctor: It's an honor to meet you, Lord Percival.

Percival: The honor is mine. I hope you have not had a hard journey.

Doctor: Not at all. Now, what can this lowly clinician do for a lofty lord?

Percival: There is someone I would like to introduce you to.

Percival: Step forward. Hold your head high. You have nothing to be afraid of.

Boy: Um, o-okay...

Boy: (Dude, this guy's a medical giant. What do I even say to him?)

The doctor turns toward the flustered boy.

Noble: Is this the young hopeful I've heard so much about?

Percival: Yes. He has taught himself medicine and practices this art on his peers.

Doctor: I see. Hm... Quite the dusty old tome you've got there, young man.

Doctor: Do you lug that brick around everywhere? That's some dedication.

Boy: I... Uh...

Percival: Look to me no further. I laid the path before your feet, but you yourself must walk it.

Percival: If you mean to ever reach your dream, act. Speak.

Percival: Tell this learned man about your vision for the future.

Boy: Okay!

The boy stands a little straighter and raises his face.

Boy: Ever since my mom died, all I can think about is becoming a doctor. That's why I've been reading this book.

Boy: It's tough going on my own, but Mom wouldn't want me to give up.

Doctor: That's wonderful. You know, your origin story sounds a lot like mine. Long nights, sleepy days, and a burning desire to help people.

Boy: Then... Do you think I can make it?

Doctor: With talent and passion like yours? There's no question.

Boy: But... I'm scared. Like, what if somewhere along the way, I trip up? Get something wrong? I could hurt someone.

Boy: I know this is a big ask but... Could you teach me to be a doctor? Could you teach me to save lives?

The boy doubles over in a deep bow.

Percival: (He found the courage to ask. His will is even stronger than I supposed.)

Percival: (If he fails to become a physician, all of Wales will suffer for it.)

Doctor: Please, stand up straight. Like the proud young doctor you are.

Doctor: What a disgrace I'd be to our profession if I refused to help someone with so much promise—someone who, in time, might go on to help thousands more.

Boy: Wait... Is that a yes?

Doctor: Of course it is. Ask me anything you'd like.

Boy: Thank you so much! I won't let you down!

It's decided that, that very day, the boy will accompany the doctor to his clinic for a hands-on learning experience.

Meanwhile, at the noble's behest, Percival will take his ease at the manor until they return.

Doctor: Sorry to have kept you waiting. We just finished.

As night descends like a slow curtain and lights flare to life in the rooms of the manor, the boy and the doctor make their reentrance.

Boy: Hey, Big Red! Look at this book Doc gave me!

Boy: Turns out the one I was using was pretty outta date. Doc fed me so much brain food, my noggin is stuffed!

Percival: Sounds like time well spent.

Doctor: It was a gratifying few hours for me as well. I couldn't believe how much he knew!

Doctor: Of course, there were some antiquated ideas and mismatched wires, but he responded most wonderfully to teaching.

Doctor: I could tell how serious he is about saving lives. He's going to be an amazing doctor—no doubt about it.

Percival: My mind tends the same way. That is why I introduced you two.

Doctor: Yes, and it's clear how this sparkling little gem managed to catch the eye of someone as high up as you, Lord Percival. He must come from an illustrious family.

The doctor's words cause the boy to deflate like pins stuck in a balloon.

Seeing this, Percival fixes the man with a look.

Percival: No. His father dwells in the small village by the river, where his earns his daily bread as a carpenter.

Doctor: What! Oh... How very, very unfortunate.

Percival: Why? What bearing does the profession of the father have on that of the son?

Doctor: But... My lord Percival... A carpenter...

Percival: Earlier, you were full of hope for this boy. You said he could save the lives of thousands.

Percival: Tell me, why should he not receive a grant and become a physician? Why should those thousands of lives be lost because one child does not hang a coat of arms above his door?

Doctor: ...

Percival: Think. What has really clipped this boy's wings?

Percival: My lord, you spoke of trust. 'Tis true—a name may buy trust. But, within the space of a day, has not this nameless boy already won that prize of you?

Percival: Doctor, you brought up the matter of lineage. But is not common and noble blood comprised of the same elements? If you cut us, will we not bleed the same?

Percival: No, 'tis not trust nor blood nor wealth that shoots down our children's dreams, but archaic beliefs. The narrow minds of adults.

The noble and the doctor take a moment to whip their thoughts into line.

Noble: Now that I think about it, it's shameful, isn't it?

Noble: Our king, with his own two hands, has built a bridge to higher education for all our nation's children.

Noble: But we adults, cozened by our prejudice, stand before this crossing like watchmen... allowing in only those we deem to be worthy.

Doctor: When it comes down to it, all a doctor needs is compassion. Devotion to helping others.

Doctor: Without that, not all the titles in the world could make someone a caregiver.

Percival: Yes. What matters is what runs through the mind, and not the veins.

Percival: I will make Wales a kingdom where all children, regardless of birth, may decide the course of their life.

Percival: If I cannot accomplish that, then how am I to raise a country where happiness is not a privilege for a few... but a right for all?

Noble: Happiness as a right for all...

Doctor: Every child, able to decide the course of their life...

The noble and the doctor turn and smile at one another, sharing the same beautiful vision.

Doctor: I've heard rumors of your kindness, Lord Percival. And I thought they were exaggerated... until now.

Percival: Neglect the children, and you neglect the country's future. Aglovale would say the same.

Noble: Yes, he would agree with you in principle. But in action... I do not think his highness would have gone so far for a single child.

Doctor: That's not meant as criticism, by the way. It's just that... The king thinks in terms of efficiency.

Percival: True. My brother is not one to feed the mouse before the ox.

Percival: (At last I understand why Aglovale sent me to the east district.)

Percival: (He has finished the work of reforming its government. Now I must begin the work of reforming its ideology.)

Doctor: Anyways, I'd better reexamine my own thinking first. For the sake of this doctor-to-be, if nothing else.

Noble: And I shall do the same. Though, Lord Percival, there is one last point I'd like to bring up.

A sudden coldness gusts through the noble's voice.

Noble: In the minds of men, the season of thought is slow to change—if it changes at all.

Noble: Sowing new ideas will be a formidable task. As formidable, perhaps, as controlling the weather.

Percival: I agree. Yet, have we skydwellers not shown ourselves able to adapt?

Percival: Did your own opinions not change this very afternoon?

Noble: ...

Noble: If anyone can found paradise in the Sky Realm, it's you, my lord.

Noble: You've broadened my horizons. Please, if you ever find yourself in need of assistance, accept my service.

Doctor: Mine as well. Anything to see your ideals realized.

Percival: They shall be, with the aid of such men as yourselves.

Percival takes each man's proffered hand and gives it a firm shake.

Noble: Well, to start off, why don't I help the young aspirant apply for his grant?

Doctor: And I'll speak to the father. I won't give up until we see this boy become a doctor..

Percival: Thank you. Surely, the weight of your reputations will sway his father's mind.

Boy: Wait, Big Red... Does this mean I don't hafta give up on my dream?

Percival: Yes. Apply yourself to your studies, and make your mother proud.

Boy: ...!

Boy: All right! That license is as good as mine!

Percival inclines his head at the boy, smiling faintly.

Percival: (Societies are built on a foundation of ideas. Better a nation by bettering the minds of its people.)

Percival: (It will be a massive undertaking. But, as I have seen today, high-minded ideas attract high-minded people.)

Percival: (In time, Brother, you shall witness this small town transform into the grand kingdom of my dreams.)

In one boy's quest to become a doctor, Percival has glimpsed the cure to a sickness that weakens kingdoms, nations, and empires.

It promises to be a tough journey. But like a great wildfire, the future king vows to let nothing turn him from his path.