Chapter 1

‘Drip drop drip drop’

The rain that hit the ground was erratic and unsynchronized. The sky above was dark, lightning might appear soon. A young boy was walking around, an umbrella above him, keeping his navy blue attire dry and pristine.

His black boots make a ‘thud’ noise every time he walks slowly. His long black hair swayed around with the wind, some even being flown out into the unforgiving rain, a few cms away.

His sapphire eyes darted around, searching for the source of crying, quiet enough that the rain could have taken it away. The sight looked scarily enchanting, although no one was there to watch him.

The teen in blue turned right, into an alley. He didn’t care if it was a trap, if it was, he could gain some experience from it, and begin to practice escaping from the situation in his own time. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to.

The alley way had a slight coverage, enough so that he didn’t need his umbrella, and could stretch out his surprisingly long arms without rain reaching him. As he continued walking along the path, he realised that it was dirtier than most places he had seen. The path was covered with many things, puke, mud, even some blood. He tried to avoid stepping on most of them, but some were inevitable. He would make sure to clean them when he got back to his home.

Was his home, really a home? A home had a family, had laughter and joy, and enough food. It was better to call it a house.

His family was gone, gone the day that warlord marched into his village, saying that he could, because the imperial household allowed it. He carried a verdict proudly, as groups of people starts protesting the new changes.

His family was already falling apart, his siblings had all died from malnutrition. After that, he vowed to hunt enough food so he won’t see his family die from starvation.

When he saw his mother and fathers’ heads being decapitated, he gasped, tears falling on the dirt below, enough to suddenly make mud. The warlord looked over at him, a smirk on his face.

Only his parent died, their deaths was made to deter any more rebellion.

He knew that he let all his family die, he could’ve stopped it, he could’ve learnt to gather food, he could’ve learnt to save people.

After the many deaths, he trained everyday, and soon, became a prodigy. He mastered the sword, and becoming a mercenary for hire. He became rich, and used his money to help his village, and orphans on the road.

When he heard that cry, he knew it was a child, it was probably a girl, for the squeaking was high pitched, but nowadays, there are many boys who had a girl’s speaky voice.

He then turned left, and looked down. A boy was sitting down, covered in wounds, and ripped clothes. He heard a giggling, and a handful of boys looked from around the corner.

It was the same boys who he had given money and refuge to.

He was mad, really mad, but he didn’t express it. If they didn’t appreciate and used the money for evil, he might as well not give it to them anymore. It was his money anyway.

He had never brought someone straight to his home, even the orphans he had sheltered, stayed at his previous house in the village. There was something about the boy that made the preteen want to protect and love the boy. He wanted to spoil and cherish the boy, even though he couldn’t see his whole face because it was covered in mud and scars.

He carried the tattered boy on his left shoulder, not minding the dirt that was soiling his clothes, and used his right hand to hold the umbrella. He then jumped up, to the roof, and leaped across the buildings, till he reached the entrance to the mountain he resided in. He didn’t stay in the place where he made precious memories with his family, but decided to build a humble home in a mountain. He tried to run away from the guilt, even though he knew it wouldn’t work.

He had to hurry back, because the boy might wake up soon, and it would be weird to wake up with wind in their face. It would be weirder if they were being carried like a sack of rice too.

He placed him down on a wooden chair, not bothering enough to put him on the bed, he didn’t want to wash that, too. He began to start taking out ingredients from who knows where. He was supposed to go shop for supplies but he accidentally took up another mouth to feed instead. He didn’t know what to think about that.

A plate with fragrant meat woke up the child. As the younger rubbed his eyes, the cook’s eyes widened.

Green eyes

A sign of royal prestige.

The long haired boy didn’t know what to do, but he can’t abandon him now.

Totally not because he was the cutest boy he has ever seen… but, he didn’t want to leave him alone, alone in the cruel world that despises the imperial household more than him.

He felt a need to protect. And if he wanted to protect, he would.

The child looked up, and smiled at him.

“Thank you for saving me.”

He felt his heart burst.

“I’m not going to leave someone as scrawny as you in that alley! It’s not what you think!”

He turned around, a pout evident. The child was confused and then shrunk back into the chair. The now-brother turned around, and hugged the child. He had to clean his clothes anyway.

He placed the plate on the table, inviting the child to eat.

The child waited for the teen to eat first, and when he ate, it wasn’t very much.

This confused the older.

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