A world of darkness bespoken to the light. Many knew its treachery. The stain it left on a long-forgotten time. A healing wound, and an aching heart. Chatter amongst those who continue to live on. Those who have forgotten their place in this world of darkness. A dark sky looms above each soul, the sun locked away beyond melancholy clouds. As if forbidden from lighting the ground ablaze with its radiance. A land shrouded in eternal shade. Chatter resounded throughout that land as wistful souls mingled. Talking. Noise that bounded around those who didn’t partake. Louder souls reached further than those who remained quiet. Voice held importance. To be timid was to be weak. Children, teenagers, adults; All treated loudness with importance. Those beneath remained mere pawns. They held such little value. A barrage of insults spilled by the throat of a father; A solemn disappointment by the eyes of a mother—Emotions familiar to any boy at his age. Nobility was to be proud. Brave… and strong. Stronger than all others. But he was not. A boy who sulked in silence. A timid nature, and a frail visage. It was hard to believe such a boy belonged in a house as extraordinary as House Ezel. A house that carried the lineage of dukes. A bloodline second only to the royalty itself. A family of black-skinned tieflings through several generations. Of soldiers, warriors, and knights. Fighters who combated the very darkness of their begotten land. He held no such strength… Not yet. Puberty had begun with little to show. Slow in combat, slow in training, and slow in knowledge—a struggling boy who couldn’t so much as hold a candle to their eldest. He knew it impossible to reach such strength. To live up to expectations set by the man much older than he. To overtake a man who already met what their family deemed necessary for an heir. *Pitiful*. <br> He knew that. That word… Words that reminded him he could do better. Be better. Words that meant he held no power in this world. In this family. Strength he did not hold. Vigor he lacked. He needed to learn. To grow. To be stronger. <br> And yet, he couldn’t. No matter the blade, no matter the book, the poor boy was hopeless in his pursuit. His test had begun. A test that wracked every corner of his mind. Men who told him how he ought to be. Women who looked upon him with contention. A stranger in his house. He faced a testament to his strength. To his will. The encroaching darkness upon their land was wrought with bitter air. Streets he knew well were suddenly empty. A solemn despair that tapped against dirt and wood. Before he knew its arrival, those louder than him began to march. A steady beat, followed by howls and screams. His mind felt itself aflame. <br> But it was no longer about him. <br> A darkness had rolled onto the land. A darkness both familiar, yet foreign to the boy. Deep, horrid purples that subdued his vision. His mind. Sorrow was first. A sadness that gripped his chest tight. Tears blurred his vision as thoughtless sorrow wracked his mind. He shook his head, a hand gripping his shirt as he lifted himself to his feet. The screams were real. Mist seeped through the windows, now. His vision blurred, and his knees buckled. His breathing was strained, ripping himself away from the violet invasion. Small, loud steps ran through tile and carpet before finding himself face-to-face with something otherworldly. A sight unknown to him. <br> A large, hulking beast of shadow and teeth looming over bodies—their *guards*. Unmoving. Lifeless. Guttural noises filled his mind. His body ached. His body *screamed*. No. *Somebody* screamed. <br> A smaller body cowered. Black, devilish skin… Small horns, adorning their family’s colors. *His little brother*. The world fell to a halt. There was no explanation. For this. Not for this. The boy was at a loss. What should he do? What *could* he do? He was weak. Timid. <br> Only one thing drove him. A thrumming bolt of adrenaline. A quickening heartbeat, and a thundering of footfalls before he found himself standing before the husk of the beast. It stared down at him. <br> *Thump*. *Thump*. *Thump*. <br> Its mouth opened wide. <br> *Thump*. *Thump*. *Thump*. <br> Mist poured from its mouth—Guttural words spilled from an absence of lips. Words fallen upon deaf ears. <br> *Thump*.  *Thump*.    *Thu.. m… p*…. <br> All he could remember was pain. Agony. A harsh scream. But not his own. The beast struck his brother. All he could remember… was blood. So much blood. He grabbed a guard’s sword—it was too heavy. A smaller one... A smaller one could do it. A shortsword, he grabbed. But as he swung into the air, he made no contact with the beast. Unharmed. *A laugh spilled from its visage*. <br> “H-help… Help!” his brother cried. His brother *screamed*. He could hear others, now. Guards. Yelling at him to attack, to help his brother. NOW. He swung again… Miss. Again. *Again*. No swing found purchase. It was worthless. *Pitiful*. <br> Sorrow. It was all he knew. All he could feel. It was all that mattered as the beast struck again. Hollow eyes stared at him. The world stopped. He. Was paralyzed. <br> Fear. Fear was all he knew, now. Steel clattered against the floor. Clutching his chest, he ran. Did he run…? He couldn’t remember. Life flickered. The mist engulfed him. Sorrow. Agony. Pain. Fear. It was all he felt. *Pitiful*. <br> Knees were cold… He fell to them. Tears spilled from his eyes. Blood. Was it blood? There was blood. Cold tears. He begged. Infernal left his lips. He prayed. <br> “P-please.. Please… help… Help me…” <br> Everything went red. Or was it black… <br> He felt warmth… An ungodly warmth, behind him. Hands on the small of his back, words that rang inside his mind. His eyes opened. All he could see… Was *her*. <br> “It’s okay,” she spoke. A calm voice. Loving. “I’m here, my child.” <br> He longed for her. His hands reached forwards, gripping onto white cloth, tinging it with crimson. Her head tilted downwards to him, deep red curls cascading unto eternity with beautiful, stark white horns. Hidden eyes that he could feel staring at him with care… With love. <br> “Accept me, my child. Allow me into your heart and you will be safe. I will give you strength. I will give you *all*.” <br> Her ebony black fingers grazed his cheek. She held him—embraced him. From his lips, he uttered a tired, breathless, <br> “*Yes*…” <br> Before drifting off once more. He arose anew. An aching body, and a yearning heart. Beside him laid his brother upon a silken cot. Asleep. Restful. <br> “He’s okay,” <br> Rang a familiar voice. A woman with ebony black skin, cascading red curls, and bright red eyes that stared upon him. A nurse… <br> “As are you. It took strength, standing up to that demon. You and your brother will be okay, Sir Ezel.” <br> A small nod, a shy look to the side. He was without words. An absent state of mind that rendered him quiet. Just as he always was. But as his lips parted to speak, he coughed. A metallic taste engulfed his senses… The nurse lifted his chin. His eyes fell upon hers. <br> “I’m proud of you, *my child*.” <br> Words he didn’t know… Words that told him that, perhaps, he did better. That he would continue to be better. <br> A memory that would last forevermore. <br> A world that now opened to him.