Chapter Text
A 16 year old boy who lived in poverty ran around in the streets. His stomach was grumbling as per usual, this was a regular routine for him. He hid around in the market place when it was thriving with people and made his way behind the food stalls, hiding behind a curtain. When the time came, he quickly snuck behind the vendor, stole a piece of food, then retreated back to that same curtain. Today's lunch was a loaf of bread. The boy smiled to himself.
“So you took the bait, didn’t you, ya little street rat.” A man with a raspy, deep voice said. The curtain was suddenly opened and on the other side was the food vendor. The boy froze in his spot, his hands shaking with the bread. “There’s word going on about a boy stealing food. Ya think we wouldn’t notice?” A smile was seen through the corner of the vendor’s mouth.
The boy tried to think quickly, he knew that someday he was bound to get caught, that’s why he had a Plan B up his sleeve. In a small little pouch bag made out of rope were several stones, he hid it behind his back. The boy grabbed one and threw it at the vendor’s face, he was aiming for the eye, but the rock hit his cheek. He supposed that will do. The boy quickly got up and dashed out of the curtain.
The vendor cupped his own cheek, feeling the blood that was dripping. “You fucker…” He growled, “HEY! SOMEONE GET THAT BOY! HE’S A THIEF!”
The boy snickered to himself as he ran past the shopping civilians, dodging them so that nothing could stop him. He swept past arms and crawled through legs. Nothing could stop him. Behind him, he heard the scramble of men trying to get past the other citizens, but the boy was small enough to run through all obstacles. Nothing could stop him.
The boy managed to escape the bustling marketplace and arrive at his little corner in the city. He scaled up a building using the stones that would stick out, at the top was a little attic that nobody used. Inside were empty barrels and crates, the floor full of hay, a broken stand-up mirror, and a little window that would show a view of the castle. This was the boy’s home.
The boy sat on top of what would seem to be his bed; a pile of hay with an old, ripped up blanket on top that was directly underneath the small window. He laid his back against the wall and licked his lips at the bread in his dirty hands. “Thank you for the food.” He said to himself. He dug in, savoring the feeling in his mouth. The bread was so soft and fluffy, with a bit of sweetness to it. This was most likely the only food he would get for the day, but since the food vendor found him, this was probably the only piece of food he would eat for the week. The boy finished the last of the bread, but his stomach was still grumbling. The boy sighed and looked out of his tiny window. Everyday, he would imagine what it would be like to live in a place like that. You could have all of the sweets in the world, the biggest buffets, and you could be fed three meals everyday like normal people. Tears were welling up in the boy’s eyes. Oh, how much he wished for another piece of food.
The boy got up and looked at himself through the cracked mirror. His appearance wasn’t much. He had dark blue hair that went down to his shoulders, worn out beige clothing that was so thin, it really didn’t do much during the cold days, he had no shoes, and there was dirt and old scabs on parts of his skin. The only thing he could keep clean was his hair which he cared about a lot. It was smooth and silky, barely any knots. He had a comb that he stole from a lady’s purse and he cherished it.
You see, when the boy was age four, he suffered from a deadly fever. His mother, who was alive at the time, tried her best to get shelter from the wintry blizzard that the kingdom was hit by that season. No one would allow a dirty woman with a young child in the house, except for one person. A man with a very distinct hairstyle. The soft-spoken man allowed them to stay at his place until the boy got better. If the boy’s mother never found that man, the boy was sure to die. After the boy was cured from his fever, the man disappeared the next day. The mother never got to hear his name since he was a traveler on the run, he had to keep his identity secret in order to hide from a group of people from another country. The boy idolized this man for being the only person willing to save his life. One day, he wanted to copy his hairstyle as a way to honor him, that is why he keeps his hair so clean. The boy hoped that he could find the man again.
The boy was still examining his body in the mirror. He turned around so that he could see his back and pulled down his shirt near his left shoulder area. There was something weird about it that the boy could never figure out, a star shaped birthmark. Did it mean something? Did it connect to someone? The boy could never figure it out. His mother didn’t know as well.
The boy sighed and collapsed into his hay bed. He knew he shouldn’t go out if people were going to try and look for him, he figured that people were going to make wanted posters. The boy had to come up with another plan with how to get food, but he would save that task for tomorrow. The boy curled up into a ball and fell into a slumber.
The boy awoke to the sounds of men talking. They sounded angry. The boy rubbed his eyes and sat up, closely looking at the entrance to the attic. No one loud like that lived underneath, he knew the house was inhabited by a small family, not a whole bunch of grumbling men.
The voices were getting closer. The boy panicked, he had to hide somewhere. His gaze landed on one of the empty barrels, he had to move quickly. The boy quickly opened the top of one of them and hopped inside of it. He quietly put the top back on and curled up inside, scared for his life. Nothing like this ever happened before, no one has ever found this attic.
There were three bangs he heard and then the sound of wood breaking. That wood was the entrance to the attic. A flood of angry men filled the room along with the thuds of heavy footsteps. They’re looking for me! The boy thought to himself. As long as he was perfectly quiet, the men could suspect that nobody was here.
“Boss, he ain’t here!” One of them called out.
“Bullshit! Don’t ya know the nature of these fuckers? They’re secret is hiding. That little shit is hiding somewhere.” Another one said. “Look in every nook and cranny, break open those barrels and crates. This boy has been stealing from the market, he can’t get away with this any longer. Thieves need to be punished, especially from those who steal from Angelo.”
Angelo?
The boy panicked. At any moment, they could open the top of the barrel and find him inside. Who knows what punishment would come from this? The boy covered his ears and brought his knees closer to him. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to think about his mother.
“Boss! That kid’s in here!” A voice yelled. Soon enough, the boy felt a hand grab his hair and pulled him out of the barrel. The boy kicked, screamed, and yelled. He tried his best to undo the hand that was grabbing him, but he wasn’t strong enough.
The boy opened his eyes and saw that same food vendor he stole from earlier. He had a menacing smile along with four other men beside him.
The vendor laughed, “I’m usually a nice guy, but when people piss me off, it gets real bad.” He moved his head to motion the other men around him. “Tie him up, we’re taking him to our place.” The men all grunted and one of them tied a rope around the boy’s wrists. The boy’s head started to hurt from the vendor still holding him by his strands.
The boy decided to speak up, “If you do anything to my hair...I swear to God I’ll kill you.”
The vendor burst out laughing and was soon followed by his men laughing with him too. “You’re gonna kill me?! With what?! Those filthy, weak hands of yours?! Damn, these rats are hilarious sometimes!” The vendor threw the boy onto the floor with a great force. The boy’s face was met with the ground below, his nose was starting to bleed. “Let’s hurry up.”
The men underestimated the boy. He’s been through enough shit throughout his sixteen years of living to know how to survive this world. The boy managed to get his tied up hands around his legs so that they were back to being in front of him. He boosted himself up and quickly escaped through the broken entrance, falling down from the ladder, but picked himself back up again and managed to run out into the streets. Parts of his body hurt and his nose was bleeding like crazy, but he had to keep going. His left leg was limping a bit and it was getting a bit hard to breathe, it also didn’t help with the fact that the boy’s incoming hunger was making him weaker by the second. His tied up hands also didn’t help with his balance as he soon tripped and fell facedown on the pavement. The men caught up to him. The boy saw the shoes of the vendor.
“I’m too fucking pissed off to bring him back. Just beat him up out here!” He said.
The boy didn’t know what was going on above him since his eyes were still on the pavement. Then he felt a sharp kick to his stomach causing the boy to cough out blood. He felt a wave of sharp kicks on his back, his butt, and more to his stomach. The boy screamed out in pain. He heard the laugh from the vendor as he stepped on his head.
“I told you, thieves get punished. Didn’t want to do this out here, but you’ve got me pissed off. Remember what I said?” The vendor applied more pressure onto his foot, causing the boy’s face to be pressed in more against the pavement. The boy accepted his fate, he was going to die right here. It didn’t matter anyway, he lived his whole life in poverty, he had no friends, he had no family, his life was going nowhere.
“Oi, Angelo. What are you doing?” He heard another voice say. A man. His voice was deep, smooth, with a little bit of roughness.
The kicks stopped. “Oh! Captain Keicho! Just teaching this kid the consequences of stealing.” The vendor exclaimed.
“Is that the kid who’s been stealing food for a while?” The man asked.
“Why, yes it is.”
He heard the footsteps of the other man walk closer to him, he was most likely wearing armor from the clangs of metal.
“Lift off your foot. You know how I feel about kids getting beat up.” The man ordered.
“Captain Keicho, please hear me o-”
“Lift up your foot! That’s an order!” The man yelled. Definitely the voice of a commander.
The pressure from the boy’s head was lifted. The boy slowly turned his head to see who this man was. A sharp faced adult with blond hair that stood up with side bangs in the front and a braid in the back, he was wearing a suit of silver and gold armor. A yellow cape was tied around his neck and flowed graciously in the wind. He was wearing three belts, two of them loose, with a sword attached on the side of one of them. His torso had an image of the star, the symbol of the kingdom.
“Young boy, how old are you?” He asked.
“S...Six...teen…” The boy replied breathless.
“Same age as my brother. Damn, Angelo, you really took a number on him.”
The vendor scoffed, “He’s a fucking thief.”
“He’s a kid living in the streets, of course he’s gonna steal food.” The man clicked his tongue. “Young boy, where’s your mother?”
The boy paused before he spoke again. “...Dead…”
“What are you gonna do about this kid, Keicho? Gonna let him go scot free, huh?” The vendor argued.
The man examined the boy’s body, “Well, according to law, thieves need to be-wait a damn minute.” The man dragged his finger to the boy’s left shoulder.
“What is it?”
“Look. That birthmark.” The man stood up. “Angelo, he’s no longer your business anymore.” He waved a finger toward the other knights in armor. “Actually, you should be the one punished.”
The vendor gasped, “W-What?! B-But he’s a thief! Why? This is totally unfair! What the fuck!”
The other knights helped the boy off of the ground, the man took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood off of the boy’s face. “You just hurt someone of royal blood. That’s why.”