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Condemned To Death
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Under the dark night sky, a young boy with vibrant green hair crouched silently in a small clearing, his nimble fingers playing with sticks and rocks with intense focus. The forest around him was alive with the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of a distant owl. Moonlight filtered through the foliage, casting eerie shadows that danced across the forest floor.
Suddenly, the boy lifted his head, his emerald eyes widening as they fixed on a seemingly random point in the air. The very fabric of reality seemed to ripple and warp, the stars behind it distorting like a funhouse mirror. From this shimmering portal emerged a tall figure, his midnight black cassock billowing slightly in the breeze and a worn leather bag hung from his shoulder.
The boy's face lit up with unbridled joy. He tossed aside his playthings and scrambled to his feet, leaves and twigs crunching beneath his bare feet as he raced towards the newcomer. "Master!" he cried out, his young voice filled with a mixture of relief and excitement. He threw his arms around the man's knees, burying his face in the soft fabric of the cassock.
The man's soft hand came to rest on the boy's head, gently tousling his green hair. A bittersweet smile played across his lips as he gazed down at his young charge.
"What did he say?" the boy asked, his voice muffled against the fabric but tinged with anticipation.
The man's smile faltered, his eyes growing distant as he replied in a voice heavy with resignation, "We have no choice." The words hung in the air, seeming to dim the very moonlight around them.
Slowly, the boy's expression shifted. The joy drained from his face, replaced by a solemn understanding far beyond his years. He looked up at his master, anxiety creeping into his gaze as he awaited further explanation.
"Let's go," the man said softly, his tone brooking no argument. "We have wasted enough time on this." He turned, preparing to depart, but paused to cast one final glance back at the glowing silhouette of Chimera Vale in the distance. The twinkling lights of the town seemed to mock him with their normalcy.
"Seren," he murmured to himself, his words barely audible above the nighttime sounds of the forest, "I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse that your identity does not allow you to be a true demon. You still have emotions. You may hide them, telling yourself not to be attached to anyone, but it's still there, and that humanity will continue to eat away at you, giving you nothing but pain and suffering as you walk this path."
With a heavy sigh, he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, the air beginning to warp around them again. In a blink, they were gone, leaving behind only a swirl of leaves.
...
16th September, 1507
The early morning air was crisp and invigorating, filled with the melodious chirping of awakening birds. Golden sunlight spilled over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. In a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of town, a grand house stood proudly, its windows glinting in the dawn light.
Within the expansive courtyard of the house, a young boy moved with fluid grace, his chained swords whistling through the air as he executed a series of complex maneuvers. Sweat glistened on his brows. The rhythmic clanking of chains and the boy's controlled breathing were the only sounds disturbing the morning tranquility.
"Huff... Huff..." Lorien's chest heaved as he finally collapsed onto the cool grass, his limbs trembling with exertion. He lay spread-eagled on the ground, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared up at the brightening sky.
"Why do you even train in the morning?" a high-pitched voice cut through his post-workout haze. Lorien turned his head to the side, his gaze falling upon a small figure standing at the edge of the courtyard.
A girl of about seven years old stood watching him, her arms crossed and a cute frown creasing her forehead. Her dress was a riot of colors, it's twirly skirt and fluttery sleeves giving her the appearance of an animated flower. Her hair was done up in two messy buns, adding to her air of childish charm.
"Just because I'm an ethereal grade does not mean I am unbeatable within my class," Lorien said, his voice carrying a hint of humility despite his grade and status.
Emma's eyes flashed with a twinge of curiosity across her cherubic face. She inched closer to her brother, her colorful skirt brushing against the dewy grass. "Does that mean my brother isn't the strongest in the class?" she asked.
Lorien's pride surged to the forefront, unwilling to shatter his little sister's image of him. He puffed out his chest slightly, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "Of course not. You might not know this, but I have yet to be defeated once by anyone," he boasted, his earlier humility evaporating like morning mist.
Emma crouched down beside him, her small fingers reaching out to trace the defined muscles of his arm. Her touch was light as a feather, but her gaze was sharp and discerning. "Hmmm, I smell a lie," she said, her voice filled with certainty.
Lorien's confidence faltered for a moment, caught off guard by his sister's perceptiveness. "Are you not going to trust your brother?" he asked, a note of disbelief creeping into his voice.
Emma's response was swift and cutting. "It's because you are my brother that I don't trust you," she said matter-of-factly, her fingers still exploring the contours of his bicep.
Lorien raised an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and confusion playing across his features. "Hey Emma, why do you always touch my arms and legs whenever you get the chance?" he asked, watching his sister's intense focus on his muscles.
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Emma remained silent, a look of contentment settling on her small face as she continued her tactile exploration. Lorien's expression shifted to one of mild discomfort, a hint of unease creeping into his voice. "...Don't tell me you have a fetish for muscles. Listen, I don't want my in-law to be some musclely dud-"
Slap
His words were cut short by a sharp slap to the back of his head. Emma's face had transformed from contentment to annoyance in an instant. "Don't make shitty assumptions about your sister," she snapped, her childish voice at odds with the harsh language.
Lorien's jaw dropped, his eyes wide with shock. This was not the sweet, obedient little sister he was used to. For a moment, silence reigned in the courtyard, broken only by the continued chirping of oblivious birds.
Emma stood up, brushing grass from her skirt. "Get ready for the academy. It's getting late and I'm also coming with you today," she announced, her tone brooking no argument.
"Yea I should wash–” Lorien paused suddenly and blinked, thinking he had misheard. “What did you say?" he asked, staring at Emma as if she had suddenly grown a second head.
"I'm coming with you to the academy today," Emma repeated, her voice flat and determined.
A smile then played across Lorien's lips for a few seconds as he processed her words. Then, with all the authority of an older brother, he uttered a single, firm word:
"No."
...
The sun was now high in the sky, casting dappled light through the foliage of leaves above. The dirt path winding through the forest was well-trodden, and littered with fallen leaves. Lorien trudged along, his posture slouched and his eyes heavy with fatigue. Beside him, Emma skipped along, her energy seemingly boundless as she munched on a sandwich.
"Hey, make sure nothing happens to my snacks," Emma said, her voice muffled by a mouthful of bread and cheese. She glanced up at her brother, who was lost in his own thoughts.
Lorien sighed deeply, the weight of the morning's events pressing down on him. Birds chirped merrily, oblivious to his inner turmoil. 'How did I end up here? What did I do to deserve this?' he wondered, his mind replaying the scene from earlier.
Previously, Emma had managed to cry so loudly that all the servants in the household came running, their faces etched with concern. She had threatened to cry all day if he didn't take her with him, and when Lorien called out her bluff, he received a stern lecture from Luna, their grandmother, who adored Emma like no other. 'Grandmother has become too soft. When I was Emma’s age, I would get the beating of a lifetime if I so much as complained during my training,' Lorien thought, frustration bubbling within him at the perceived injustice.
His musings were interrupted by Emma's voice. "I'm getting tired. Carry me on your shoulders," she demanded, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"No, consider this training for becoming a strong Lexarch like me," Lorien replied bluntly, hoping to instill some sense of discipline in his sister.
Emma's eyes sparkled with mischief as she countered, "I will tell Grandma that you ignored your sister’s request." Her smile was sweet, but the threat was clear.
Lorien's resolve crumbled instantly at the thought of getting beat by his grandmother. With a resigned sigh, he crouched down, allowing Emma to climb onto his shoulders. 'Just wait till you become a Lexarch, I will make sure to thoroughly train you,' he thought begrudgingly, already plotting the rigorous regimen he would put her through.
...
‘I did my hair extra good today!’ Finn thought proudly as he pulled out a small mirror from under his desk and checked his reflection. ‘Damn, I look so sexy. If I was a girl, I would definitely fall head over heels for myself.’ He smirked at his own vanity, adjusting a stray lock of hair.
The classroom was sparsely populated, with a few students scattered about, chatting or preparing for the day's lessons. Finn was still admiring himself when the door creaked open, drawing his attention. Lorien walked in, his usual stoic expression in place, but something was different today.
Finn sprang up from his seat, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Oh wh–" he began but stopped mid-sentence, his eyes locked on the unexpected sight. His eyes then widened as he saw a small girl perched on Lorien’s shoulders, her tiny hands playing with his hair and tugging at his mouth.
"Pft- HAHAHA, When did you start babysitting?! I didn’t know you would rather be a babysitter than a Lexarch, AHAHA!" Finn wheezed, pointing at Lorien and making no attempt to stifle his laughter. The opportunity to annoy Lorien was too good to pass up.
Lorien's expression darkened, his annoyance palpable. He clenched his jaw, wanting to retort but he stopped himself, knowing that Finn's taunts had some truth to them. He did look like a babysitter, and there was little he could say to counter it.
"Who's this yellow monkey?" Emma's voice cut through the laughter, her tone innocent but her words sharp.
Finn's laughter died instantly, replaced by a look of shock. He glanced at Emma, then back at Lorien, who had turned his head to the side, desperately trying to suppress a smile. "H-hey Emma, it’s me, Finn. The cool brother you used to always play with," Finn said, his voice faltering as the side of his mouth twitched slightly.
Emma stared at Finn, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to remember. It had been so long since they had seen each other that Finn's appearance had completely changed. She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Don’t know, don’t care."
"GAH!" Finn felt as if he had been struck in the chest. He had used to always play with Emma whenever he had free time, and she had been such a sweet child with a constant smile. Now, the only thing she had was her cute childish face and a sharp tongue.
Desperate to regain his status in Emma’s eyes, Finn rolled up his sleeve and flexed his muscles. "Look, Emma, you used to always hang on my arms like this," he said, trying to jog her memory with a demonstration.
Emma's face contorted in disgust as she looked at the muscles on Finn’s flimsy arm. Her cheeks puffed up, and her eyes narrowed, making an expression that could shatter a grown man's pride. Finn's soul felt like it was leaving his body, his pride ruthlessly shattered by Emma's reaction.
Lorien lifted Emma off his shoulders and set her down gently. He walked closer to Finn, leaning in to whisper, "If you don’t want to look like a moron for the whole day, then I suggest you keep your mouth shut around her."
Finn nodded numbly, walking back to his desk like a dead corpse, his mind detached from reality. He slumped into his seat, staring blankly ahead, his earlier confidence in tatters.
Emma, meanwhile, was ready to explore the classroom. She took a few steps forward, her eyes wide with curiosity, when the door opened again. She turned to see who it was, and her jaw instantly dropped to the floor.
A boy with snow-white hair that flowed slightly as he entered the room. His sharp crimson gaze seemed to pierce through glass, and his silky smooth skin gave him an ethereal appearance. Seren stopped suddenly, his deadpan expression fixed on Emma. She stared back at him, her eyes wide and mouth agape, both standing a few feet apart, locked in a silent exchange.
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Condemned To Death
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