At first, Aymer was a happy child.

He was the child of Nevan Tuval, the king’s adviser and right hand. Which only meant that the boy was spoiled rotten since the day he was born. The mansion they lived in was near the palace, each room filled with luxuries most could only dream of, servants available at any moment, and most importantly the attention and blessing from King Mayas himself. No one dared to discipline the child, or deny him anything, after all it might have displeased the King, and he was not known for his kindness.

Even with no direct discipline, and restrictions, Aymer remained peaceful. The servants dotted on him and his good behaviour. He was kind, smart and polite, always looked out for others, and shared what he had. Most were surprised, that a child raised without a mother turned out as such a blessing.

The only person that was not pleased by this, was Nevan himself, he had different expectations of the boy. If anything, Nevan hoped that losing a mother figure would toughen up the child, would have made him more cold towards the filthy peasants, or at least more disgusted by them. Yet, it seemed Aymer was set on showing he had everlasting love for all, and Nevan would not have that for much longer. His son was born to be the general, that would finally take over the Kingdom of Tairia.

For now the boy could play, Aymer was only four after all.

Two more years passed of blissful ignorance from the servants and Aymer.

The prestigious school shouted praises about the boy to anyone who would listen, what a good leader Empire of Koragon would have, the bright future Aymer would bring with his knowledge and kindness.

But the same praises started to bring the boy harm.

Kids no longer wanted to include Aymer in their activities, resentment started to build in other children and, voices started to whisper as he passed. Even at the age of six, kids could be vicious. Rumours spread that the King would threaten the teachers to pass the tests, and praise Aymer, that he wasn’t a kind boy but in reality considered everyone less than him, and the worse of all rumours, that he killed his mother on purpose. For a child to hear that, it hurt worse than anything else. How could some think Aymer would do that? Why would someone choose not to have a mother? Not to be held at night, or read to? To choose not to come home to a hug and a warm smile?

At that moment something snapped inside of him, Aymer realised there was no point being kind, if there was no one to be kind to.

From that point onwards, the child kept more to himself. No more of bringing the cooks fresh baked cake to school, or any books others might have found interesting. All that brought unnecessary attention, and Aymer just wanted to be left alone, not to be the son of Nevan Tuval, to have all those expectations of greatness, to be some bringer of peace. He just wanted to be Aymer.

Another year passed, and school never improved. Each time he had to leave for school, Aymer wished for his mother, to be able to cry out all his troubles and inner thoughts. While the servants were nice and treated him well, none stepped up to the motherly role, and his father, hearing more then two sentences a day would be a miracle.

The only comfort the boy had was when he looked in the mirror. He never met his mother, all Aymer knew was her maiden name was Halia Ambal, she was born in Klery, Koragon and her last portrait hang on his wall. The woman looked kind, her features soft with long, dark, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. When Aymer smiled just like she did in the portrait, they looked so alike. His skin might be a few shades lighter, eyes a few shades darker, and his hair was only passed his ears, but the colour was the same, and the soft features were present on his face too. Aymer carried the pieces he had of his mother with pride, after all it was all he had.

The looks and rumours continued, some spread like fire around the school, while others died after a couple of hours. This time it was different, it was worse.

“Is it true you told the king to kill my mother?!” A boy shouted, with tears in his eyes.

There was a group of kids behind him too, all listened in closely to the interaction, observed every movement made. In truth Aymer did not know what the boy in front of him was talking about, he saw him before in a class or two, heard the boy spread rumours like everyone else, but Aymer never bothered to pay enough attention to even learn the boys name.

It was after school, the teachers were at the front and the group cornered him in the classroom. The wooden desks were moved away for space, and there was no way for Aymer to leave even if he wanted to.

“Did you not hear me!” The boy shoved Aymer into the wall. “Did you think that because you don’t have a mother, others can’t have one too?”

“I wish I could tell you what happened, but I cannot, I don’t even know who your mother is.” Aymer pleaded.

His head hurt from hitting the wall. There was anger in everyone’s eyes, hatred as they looked at him. They all blamed him for this death, they needed someone to point the finger to.

“He is probably just saying that.” Some girl said in the background. “I heard that he is made to lie constantly to be able to hold the secrets of the king.”

Others nodded in agreement, which only encouraged the rage in the boy’s face. There was nothing Aymer could say or do to make them believe him. It was years of worthless lies that kids knew about him, but they considered it facts, assumed him to be something less than human, that was not capable of emotions, and apparently someone who sent people to execution.

The next moment the boy at the front punched Aymer, his eye was throbbing immediately. A second of silence passed the group as they registered what had occurred in front of them, but as soon as they did, they all burst out laughing and cheered for another hit. So the boy lit up with excitement, listened to his peers and hit Aymer again, and again.

It only stopped when the teacher returned to the classroom, quickly yelling at the kids who swiftly run away before they could receive a punishment, or admit who was the one to hit Aymer.

The nurse cleaned up the wounds the best she could, but they still hurt, and one eye wouldn’t budge open.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Nevan Tuval’s reaction was almost worse than the incident itself. At first it was just screaming at Aymer, questioning how this could have happened, and how could his son be pathetic enough to be beat like that. The words became more insulting with each sentence. Then his father started to become violent, throwing items from his desk, anything from papers, ink, candles, books, or seals, then it was his chair that was shattered against the wall. It didn’t take long for this destruction not to satisfy Nevan.

With one eye closed shut, and the other blurred by tears, Aymer didn’t see when his father grabbed the collar of his shirt and threw him at the wall. He was better prepared for the flying remains of a chair, but they still cut his arms open.

With each assault, his father screamed.

“Weak.”

“Pathetic.”

“Useless.”

“Coward.”

The words kept repeating in Aymer’s head.

Next day, King Mayas was informed of the incident and the boy’s state. The King liked Aymer enough to pay him a short visit. Asked a few questions about his welfare and injuries, and which boy in the school did this.

It was more about disrespecting the Tuval family, the family so close to the royals, especially in a school that only allowed children of the most loyal lords. This incident was unacceptable. So, when King Mayas asked the questions to identify the child, Aymer stammered through his words unable to answer. The king was obviously displeased, his usual tall body seemed to reach higher, the hazel eyes almost seemed to glow, and his usual brown hair looked darker.

First, the boy insulted his father and now the king.

When Aymer felt better, he got out of bed and stumbled his way towards his father's office. The chance of receiving any comfort was unlikely, but the need to have a parent by his side grew, alongside with the thoughts of what it would have been like to have his mother's arms wrapped around Aymer’s small body in moments like this.

Dreams like that just weren’t meant to be for a boy like him.

His father's voice started to fill the hall, the disappointment present in every word. It soon became clear he was talking with the king about the recent events.

“The boy should be no son of mine.” His father said. “I should have known better than to let him get soft like he has. “

“Aymer is an idiot like his mother.” King Mayas grumbled. “But I have plans for him Nevan, plans which involve him in a position of higher power. Punish him as you please, but if you disown him, there will be consequences.”

“The suitable punishment is for him to live on the streets. But as you wish my king.”

The rest of the conversation was nothing more than a blur, Aymer tried to run as far away as he could from the office, he heard his father say he doesn’t even wish to have him as his son. Maybe the kids at school were right? Maybe he deserved their treatment? There was no other explanation to fathers’ behaviour, or the way King Mayas looked at him.

No, no, no, no, no. Aymer told himself in his mind. That was not going to be his story, the other kids were wrong, so was his father.

Aymer stayed up the whole night, the plan was engraved in his mind. He would prove them wrong.

The servants were worried, tried to whisper their comforts, take care of the swellings present all over his body. They even made his favourite omelette for breakfast. Aymer couldn’t look them in the eyes, not with what he planned to do.

After this he would no longer be their kind, young lord.

It didn’t take long for Aymer to find the child from yesterday. Immediate hatred sparked in his belly. That boy looked so proud of what he did, the harm he caused. Most likely believed the fight avenged his mother.

In a matter of moments Aymer charged at him, tackled him to the ground. Other kids quickly scattered away, screams filled the school grounds.

There was no thoughts, no feelings in that act. Aymer just kept hitting the child under him, his fist did not stopping even when the teachers arrived, and a warm liquid scattered on his face and hands. Someone pulled him away, took him to a secluded classroom, made him sit there by himself, told him to think of his actions. But they wouldn’t understand, not with the expectations others hand of him.

If everyone thought he was evil, why shouldn’t he be?

Time passed and the classroom slowly dimmed. With Aymer’s swollen eye it was getting hard to see.

“Was yesterday not enough?” His father's stern voice echoed in the room.

“I wanted to make you proud father.” Aymer mumbled. “I took it in my own hands, that boy hurt me yesterday, so I made sure he got it worse.”

His father's lips curled into a small smile, his hand lifted to gently rub the top of Aymer’s head. “Good job child, now remember, no one, apart from the king himself is above the Tuval name, these people are scum and should be treated as such. Don’t make me disappointed again.”

A small smiled formed on Aymer’s face. That small motion hurt him so bad, but he couldn’t help himself, his father's praise was all he craved and wanted. All Aymer had to do was accept what other thought of him and abandon the person he was before.

Next day as a reward his father took Aymer for a walk, told him there is a surprise and a reward waiting for him..

They made their way to King’s Mayas castle, and as soon as Aymer noticed what the surprise was, it took all he had in him not to throw up in front of his father, to scratch his eyes out so he wouldn’t have to look at it again.

From the castle walls hang the boy Aymer had attacked just yesterday, next to him was a man and a teacher from his school, most likely the one who has stopped the fight.

“This is your reward son.”

“Father, this is-” Aymer nearly let the sobs escape his lips, but his father's words cut him off.

“I understand, seeing this for the first time can be difficult.” Father’s words were soft, not as if he was speaking about the people he had executed. “I spoke with the king, and we decided to finish the work you started. Bastard son and father should have known better than to lay a hand on you, the teachers have also been notified that if they shall ever stop you again, they will hang too.”

This was not what Aymer wanted. Even if he thought he accepted himself as what people said, the cold, uncaring child he must have been, it was not so easy to kill the person he always was. Now he mourned for the child that gently swung in the wind, the life that boy never got to live.

And it was all Aymer’s fault.