Chapter 3
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“Argh, nothing but garbage! These upper level bastards are getting stingier by the day..”
The man spoke to himself, directing his frustrations not only at the people above him, but also at his fate as a lowly Vassal. He laid on a pile of filthy trash, his eyes staring at the ceiling of complete darkness. He could not help but compare the utter darkness above him to his very dim future.
He placed his hands on his grumbling stomach in hopes of relieving a little bit of the hunger that was the result of not being able to eat a full meal for 6 days.
“I’m so hungry! Please, someone or anyone, just give me something to eat. God. . . Angels. . ”
His begging only received silence as a reply. The miracle he subtly hoped for was just simply not there.
Soon the silence inside the garbage dump was filled with sobs and grunts. If the man knew this was where he was going to die, he would never try to challenge God and change His story. He would never have put his trust on that Angel who betrayed him. He would have never left home.
The man continued to bawl his eyes out without any trace of care for the world, since he thought nobody was there to witness his pitiful life. He constantly yelled out how hungry he was, like a child whose mother ignores simply because he or she was being a brat. Despite how terrible fate has treated him, the man still wanted to live.
He was not the only one in the garbage dump, however. A boy with cold eyes was also there, catching up on the sleep he could not get on his way before being woken up by the man’s pathetic crying. He could no longer tolerate the noise he was to endure, more so that of a male adult throwing a tantrum like a snot nosed brat and took action.
“Hey bastard, would you shut up and let me sleep for one goddamn second?!” The boy yelled, shoving a piece of whole-wheat bread in the man’s mouth. “Eat this and get lost!”
The sudden appearance of the boy startled the man, but he was still grateful. After all, the man gobbled the bread in mere seconds and a little bit of his hunger was relieved.
“Thank you, oh thank you, kind boy! How can I repay your good deed?”
He did not reply.
Although it was dark, the man could see that the boy had only a box and a tattered piece of rag to sleep with. He was dressed in dirty clothes; ones that have not been washed for days, similar to what the man wore on a daily basis. He tried to make out his face, but the darkness of the room made it impossible to do so.
He cannot help but feel sorry for the child despite him being in the same situation.
After a long moment of silence, the man decided to lay down next to the boy and start a chat.
“My name is Dionad Vance Kaywillan Fromorth Louisel de Sans, but you can just call me Dio.” He started. “I was born under a full moon 25 years ago. . .as a beautiful baby boy. So beautiful, they though I was an Angel! Ha ha ha!”
“Since I was so beautiful, I decided to become a wandering bard and ran away from home--because I loved to make music.”
”I would play a song for you if I could . . . but my banjo got stolen by some mean thugs, I lost all my only source of income and now I’m here!”
“Ah, honestly I really want to play my banjo right now. . .”
Dio continued to speak to himself, but it did not bother him in the least. Since reminiscing about the old days brought him so much joy. In fact, he appreciated the silence he was given. He started to hum his favourite song, soon the quiet atnomsphere in the dumpster was refined by a beautiful melody.
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"Lovely tune, isn't it? I was able to create it with my late wife in mind." There was a momentary silence before Dio broke it himself.
"Well let us get past this story now, I wouldn't want the atmosphere to become heavy again." He laughed.
“I’ll tell you a secret since you are such a good listener!”
“Ah-hem--," He cleared his throat. "This handsome, young man may be a Vassal now, but he was also the child of a Noble once.”
The boy suddenly got up from laying down, catching Dio by surprise.
“Is that true?” He asked.
The boy looked straight into his eyes, demanding an answer although no word was spoken and inched his blade closer towards Dio’s heart.
“Well. . . if I might ask, which answer will leave me unscathed?” Dio gulped, slowly raising his arm in the air. He began to regret his unnecessary friendliness with strangers.
A wise man would have never started a conversation with a sword-wielding child in the first place!
Within a sequence of erratic movements, Dio found himself pinned to the ground with his face buried in the pile of garbage while his clothes were getting ripped apart by a child.
“AH! What are you doing?! No, stop! I’m ticklish!”
Dio’s cries did nothing as the boy continued to rub his body all over, checking every part of his body, as if he was looking for something. He could only let the boy with strength that could rival a bull strip him clean in total darkness.
“This marque is--!”
Dio looked over to where the boy was touching. There was indeed a marque in his left thigh, in fact, all Normals have marques. It was melted into the skin as soon as the baby was born, it was to brand their place in the hierarchy. This marque will either allow or disallow them to pass certain walls in the King’s Kingdom. If a Normal with a Vassal marque was found to be within the walls that only allowed those that were marque Impressio and above, he or she will be imprisoned and punished accordingly.
Dio was telling the truth, he was indeed born into a family of Noblemen.However, the marque that proved he was a Noble was scarred as a result of laceration by a sharp weapon, meaning that he no longer had the rights of being one. He was demoted to become a Vassal for the remaining years in his lifetime.
“As you can see, I am now just a lowly Vassal,” Dio concluded after the long explanation about his marque. “So you can’t make me your hostage, since they were the ones who threw me away.”
Dio was down on his knees, begging the hostile child to let him live. He knew very well that the child could kill him anytime he wished to. He had no other choice but to lower his dignity and beg for his life.
While it was true that he was just a lowly Vassal, he valued his life greatly-- as he still had unfinished things to settle.
The child let out a disappointed sigh and left Dio on the ground and went to gather his things.
“Where are you going? Are you leaving?”
Dio asked but did not receive a reply. He watched the boy pick up the items he had used to sleep in and put it into his runsack. The boy then proceeded to walk towards the exit of the garbage dump.
“You’re really leaving me here, alone? With absolutely no clothing? You’re really leaving this lonely bard alone in this filthy dumpster? With nothing for him to eat or drink? You’re really leaving me to die after I shared my secret with you?”
Seeing how the boy had absolutely zero interest in him, Dio became tearful.
“You’re so mean, take responsibility for the clothes you destroyed, bastard!”
“Would you prefer to die right now if you don’t stop talking?” The boy snapped.
“I mean-- thank you for sparing my underwear, kind sir.”
A tear rolled down Dio’s face as he watched the boy leave. He thought he had a special connection with the child. He had a feeling that they both desired something different in this world. He could no longer hold it in, he was prepared to take the risk of dying. He just had to have someone who can protect him.
He jumped from where he was sitting and onto lower ground, struggling to catch up to the boy who was walking under day light.
“Wait--let me come with you!” He hollered. “I promise I won’t become a burden, please just let me go with you!”
Dio grabbed the boy’s hood, and accidentally pulled it off-- uncovering his head full of white hair that went down to his shoulders. The boy looked at Dio, his blood-red eyes staring directly into his. “What the hell are you--?!”
“Ab--abnormal? Dio asked shakily.
The boy snatched his hood back from Dio’s grasp and smiled. “Now do you still want to come with me?” The boy asked calmly, already knowing the answer.
“You--what is your name?”
He pondered for a while, as if he had forgotten his own name. The expression on his face puzzled Dio.
“Noir, that is my name.” He said simply, wanting to be rid of the man’s pester.
Noir then pulled his hood back on and planned to walk away, but was stopped when the ex-Noble grabbed his arm.
“Please, Noir.” He begged with unwavering eyes. “Make me King!”