His eyes were shut, tighter than ever before. His heart beat repeatedly buzzed in his ears, his brain trembled in fear. His wrists had begun to bleed from the rope, his jaw sore from the gag. Viran felt his gut jump inside of him when a hard kick was planted directly into the back of his knee, and he fell. The dirt underneath his face stuck hard, rocks implanting themselves into his skin. It stung, his heart stung from the fear within him. How useless… Was what he thought.

 

It pained him to remember his thoughts before, his actions. His mind continuously wandered through the past few months, all in a flash. It still pained him, he would continuously be broken down by those around him. The servants he hated, the guards he hated, his own Father he hated. And just when he thought he could finally find a new world for himself, Viran thought himself as naive. His own fear and self-hatred blended together, clearing a far greater turmoil within than the blood that dripped down his wrists. Viran thought of himself as weak and having no power- yet only now did he truly realize how wrong he was.

 

It wasn’t that he had no power, it was that he was meant to have no power.

 

Right from the get go his Father suppressed his talent, Sir Renault said it himself. The servants avoided him like the plague and still had the audacity to show pity for him, Viran was naive enough to believe that was the true norm. Spion never bothered to train him, Viran still never knew why he would ever agree to kill Viran for Gregory. Tears boiled and began to swell within his eyes, Viran didn’t bother to hold them back. The dam had broken within him and the confusion he had felt his entire life and the pain he had to endure released. The tears were overflowing and his nose and ears flared, snot began to run down his face. Viran didn’t care about how others might see him, they were going to kill him anyways!

 

“Was I never that good enough for you…” Viran sputtered while the tears only swam further down his face.

 

His muscles repeatedly tightened and released and the tears only began to fall faster.

 

“Why did I have to suffer through this… Aren’t I your son?” Viran said to himself.

 

His Father had never truly cared for him. He had always suppressed Viran, and actively made that clear. It hurt, and stung deeply for Viran still. The pain of not knowing even why it all turned out this way, even Viran began to wonder whether or not his Father would feel pain to learn of his son’s death? Would he care? Would he even bat an eye?

 

Viran at least hoped for his apathetic face to change even a little, even if the expression was one of mocking.

 

The blood and tears drip into the black soil under Viran. His head was bent down as a Knight simply placed his foot upon his back, not caring for the useless mutterings of the child. Elsewhere the gruff Knight had already placed Marianne down against a tree before walking into the distance.

 

Viran could barely see through the tears to finally look around him. They were in a forest clearing, and what surrounded the boy were numerous trees and torches to illuminate the area. The carriages and horses were not far away, a pile of corpses laid there as well.

 

Viran bit deep into the gag, yet it had no use. He could already feel the vomit shake within his stomach and the pain shook his entire body. Was that really what was going to happen to him? To Marianne? To the female Knight from before?

 

Viran could hear the laughter of Knights in the distance, and the screeches of pure horror that reverberated through the trees that surrounded him. Viran could only sit there, and wait for what was to come. An inevitability that he felt was ever looming. The scythe had been placed upon his neck and was ready to end his very existence right then and there.

 

‘Just why was I born then? Only for me to die now of all times…’

 

Viran thought he would be ready to die, ready to die at least alongside Marianne. But he was wrong, faced directly with death now haunted his very being. The fear only became more unbearable, sitting there the tears would not stop for a second. His breathing hastened, his wrists would repeatedly spring apart to break the rope yet it only cut into his wrists more causing pain to Viran. The pain made Viran remember clearly Gregory, the blood that washed over his face, dyeing his eyes completely. The crimson he had seen, and the malice that was directed towards him. A burning feeling of mana erupted into Viran and he stood directly up and the Knight that stood on top of him fell immediately.

 

“Wahh!”

 

The Knight screamed out yet that didn’t matter, a foot came right down directly onto his knee joint. Snapping it in half immediately. The crimson mana of Viran swam directly through him, Viran could no longer feel himself. The fear and hatred had taken over him, he could no longer help himself. Once more the foot came down and tore open the elbow joint completely, yet the screams did not register within Viran still. They wouldn’t register at all, he chose to ignore the screaming. Only focusing on emplacing pain upon the disgusting individual in front of him, Viran wasn’t willing to die here. He had too much to do, too many people to see again. He had regrets and hopes, things he wasn’t able to give away easily. Even if they were all ready to kill him now Viran couldn’t let himself die out of fear, what was the point of his life if he died now? The blood that was forced out of Viran through Gregory or through these Knights would only serve as an inspiration for Viran. An inspiration to fight back, even if his enemy is his own Father.

 

Viran’s entire body felt light and was filled with a burning heat, and still the tears splashed around his face. His foot was brought up a final time, and went down one final time. The Knight had died a painful death, but none of that registered with Viran. The blood splattered onto Viran’s legs and droplets were on his face, and still none of that registered in Viran.

 

“FUCK YOU! WHY SHOULD I DIE NOW!”

 

Viran’s mad yell echoed throughout the entirety of Tenus Forest. His entire life his emotions were bottled up, and they all came pouring out. Viran killed another man at a young age, and he was ready to kill more.

 

“God Dammit!”

 

“Shit…”

 

“THE FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE?”

 

Many more people had run out with their blades drawn. They were all ready to kill the kid in front of them, blood lust emanated from their statures and from their eyes. Yet still Viran did not register any of this correctly, instead running directly towards them. A madness had come over him, he didn’t want to die. He was afraid to die, and he needed to fight to live. He wasn’t ready to give up the hopes he still wanted to see out, the regrets he had to fix. He needed to do something about this.

 

Blood had stuck itself onto his body and it trailed behind him as he ran straight towards the Knights. He kicked up on one foot, completely ready to kick directly into them. His kick landed directly onto the chest of a Knight, blowing him multiple feet away and blood began to pour out from him. The shocked Knights surrounding Viran took a few moments to realize this all before running towards Viran once more with their blades drawn.

 

Their swords fell directly on top of the still Viran, his mana was already spent in a matter of seconds. Yet the swords never reached their mark, a golden blaze covering the entirety of Viran stopped the blades directly in their tracks. The Knights and Viran with shocked gazes can see Marianne sitting up with her hands unbound once more, her hand outstretched. Her grip falls and Viran can feel a force pulling him away from the Knights completely and by the time the mana dissipates Viran is rolling over himself, the dust kicked up into the air stings him deeply.

 

Two of the Knights in response put their own hands up, their mana blazing, and balls of pure fire and earth are formed quickly in front of them. The spells are primed and ready to blast off towards Viran and Marianne, yet they still never reach their mark.

 

Marianne’s face is sullen while Viran’s face turns to one of shock as he sees a single swordsman cut through the Knights like butter within a matter of seconds. The blood spurts directly into the air and it covers the entire area in a crimson color.

 

The swordsman was covered in simple clothing that could not be called armor, yet armed with a beautiful sword that could only be called a work of art. The man’s face possessed an eerie calmness, his dark eyes had an icy coldness to them. His black hair was tied into a sloppy and short ponytail behind him. His face had dirt covering it and some early sprouts of facial hair could be seen. The swordsman looked to be in his mid 30’s and he possessed a well trained body and slightly above average height.

 

The Knights began to scream in unison, only for it to be cut short by the swordsman’s sword once more. The blood dyed the beautiful blade, yet somehow that still entranced Viran’s attention onto the blade like some sort of exotic painting. Viran’s overheated body felt cold once more, and the pain became even more real to him. Next to him Marianne had already passed out, it was hard to tell whether or not she was breathing at all.

 

The swordsman effortlessly slipped the sword back into his scabbard, and his gaze went towards the tearful boy and the woman. His gaze tightened at the sight of the woman, a sincere sadness could be seen within his gaze. He walked towards Viran and knelt down, staring directly into his eyes without a word.

 

Viran held his breath until the swordsman finally asked.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

His voice was not gentle at all and had a certain accent to it which Viran had never heard of. Viran looked towards the bodies of the Knights, and his gaze returned towards the swordsman in front of him once more.

 

“Nn.” Viran grunted while shaking his head, refusing to offer his name.

 

“Very well, good thing you stood up for yourself there. You would’ve lived anyways, but it’s good to have that spirit.” The swordsman said plainly while not taking offense to Viran.

 

“Wait- wait can you go help everyone else please?” Viran asked quickly while gripping the man's arm.

 

The man’s icy glare turns towards Viran, and his words hurt Viran more than he thought.

 

“Listen. Do you hear any more screams? I was already too late when I got there… Most of them were already dead.” He sighs before adding. “Though at least they’re not going to the afterlife alone.”

 

Viran’s hands shook, and fell into his lap. His nose twitched multiple times before meeting the pile of corpses next to the carriages, he didn’t know what to say or what to think anymore. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew they all died with little meaning. They died by the hands of their own comrades over him, Viran, and to what end? They couldn’t protect Viran or their own lives, all Viran could do was silently pray for them.

 

The swordsman at this point did not take another glance at Viran, instead only looking at Marianne. His eyes evoked great pity as his hands reached down and took the satchel that was placed over her neck. His hands fumble through the satchel for a moment before he takes out the same small metal pin that Viran found before.

 

“How sad… A Kieller.” The man murmurs.

 

Viran feels lost at the sudden words, how did he know Marianne was really a Kieller?

 

“How… How do you know that!?” Viran growled.

 

The man pauses for a moment before putting the pin back and giving it to Viran once more, his words were expressionless.

 

“Considering she was still able to shoot out a spell for you in that moment was crazy considering the state she is in… It’s likely she won’t live long.”

 

Viran’s face stiffened at the words, and his vision becomes hazy once more.