In a peaceful village, surrounded by yellow leafed tree with brown bodies and bright green grass, with only the main paths having a small bit of gravel as a road, a child cries with no end. In a village, with beautiful houses, a mix of wood, stone and glass, each as intricate as the other, a child cries to no avail. In the burning house, occupied by a dead father and a long dead mother, a child cries, with no one to sooth it. In a room, engulfed with fire, blood painted on the walls and heads on the floor, a child cries to a mercy he never knew he had, but torment he must live with. In a village, burnt to cinders, with no one left alive, a child cries. And now this child has woken up. A child, no older than 16 years of age, wakes up in a groggy state, "mng. . .bloody nightmare again . . ." he says as he wipes his baggy eyes, of which a motivation has long left. He looks around, finding himself in an ally, another homeless man not too far from him. "Dave!", the child yells to the homeless man.
Dave shoots up in a panic, his head turning side to side so fast he might break his neck. Dave then locks eyes with the child in front of him and gives him the best smile he could, yet all he could muster was a painful grin. "Ay. Little one. I told you I don't want to wake from my dreams. Why do you call?" the man asks in a friendly tone.
"Just checking if you're alive . . ." The child says weakly, as he reminisces, with a sombre expression. "Dave. You've taught me how to live, read, write and talk, you've been with me for as long as I can remember."
"Hah! Like these bugs could kill me. I'd eat them faster than they could me!" Dave says with pride, though much of it is just an act. "Anyway. I think its 'bout time we moved from this alley, ay John?"
"John. The name this man gave me when I was about 5 years old, by then I could already speak like an adult would. That being said, many adults speak like children, more act like it, guess it comes with not having to live on the road." John looks out to the road where many people walk, all in hurry but none for one reason. They all have a special reason of their own to work themselves this much, at least he thinks so. "The hierarchy of this entire place is small, but distinct, once you have a role or title, its set in stone, though you could theoretically break said stone, you might end up with only pebbles. Some might find gold. A basic person is called a hunter, what with them hunting for a living, even it means they die early, they'll do it to not sleep in alleys like me and Dave. We are called the peasants in turn for begging for food day in and day out, we've got no strength or equipment to hunt so we just beg anyone to give us something, hoping we get a meal before we starve to death." John says internally. He looks up, to the palace, a building too hard not to see, it sticks out like a sore thumb, surrounded by poorly built huts, it being the only clean place in the village "Then there's the warriors and death knights, both personally picked by the lord himself, they serve to protect him and his kin. Above them and their head warrior, the 'Death King' as he's called, is the maids, above them the head maid, The previous lord's wife. Then there's the wife herself, commonly known as 'The pure flower' thanks to her being a virgin up till the lord bears kin with her, even after, she's still called 'pure flower' due to her loyalty and restrain to bearing another child, unfortunately, she had quadruplets. The fourth went missing about 16 years ago, days after he was birthed, yet it's odd a search party only came back with a frail cloth."
"Aargh! Bloody rats took my last bit of food! ... That was supposed to keep us up for a week at most." He turned to the vents the rats had occupied, gritting his teeth he mumbled curses to the rats before standing up "bloody rodents. Come on, we gotta go to a new part of town if we even want a shot at food now."
"We aren't going through the forest, right? Last time we did you-" John was cut off by Dave
"We are. Don't worry too much about it, I at least know the safe path now …" Dave turned, having only one hand.
"The last time we had gone through that forest a beast attacked us, leaving him a hand short." John said, his tone regretful
He sighs, obviously remorseful of his lost hand. "It wasn't your fault. Ok. I told you already, many times. It doesn't matter any more too … if you want to pay for it why don't you sell yourself off?" Dave said without looking at John
"What! The hell did that come from?" John shit back, clearly suprised by Dave's suggestion
"look … I talked to a good lady-" Dave tried to reason
"It's slavery in broad daylight!" John shot back agains
"You get food and a place to stay…" he yelled, something he'd only do if he really had to. "I would have gone myself if I hadn't lost my arm to that damn thing … I saw the place. It's not the best of places, yeah. But it is better than slavery."
"And what about you?" John said quietly
"I'd act as your seller, they'd pay me enough for me to get a limb back, and then I'll return and offer myself up as well." Dave said Confidently
But John replied "If you're doing this for me, please don't, I know you'd buy food before treatment-" Dave cut John off yet again
"That easy to read, huh?" he chuckled, though it sounded forced. "Look. It hurts me too much to see such a talented guy die without shining. Especially one I raised myself … and yeah. I'm lying. I'm not going to come with you. I really do, but I'm afraid I . . . I am not going to live much longer . . . you know how old I am. Yeah I look young, no wrinkles, voice still booming, and my body not too shabby, but being 90 really hurts. If anything, it's only my skin and throat that stayed young, my organs have been slowly dying already, soon, I don't know when, but I'm going to turn into those rodents next meal and the world's next fertilizer." Dave looks down, a faint frown on him as he thinks of his own life, how raising this unnamed child made him feel complete, how it had given him a purpose. This brought him a smile, more real than any he had in a long time
John sighed, contemplating the position he was in, it is true that he does not have many choices left, and the deal is tempting. "I can't. I just can't. You are the one I look to for guidance, how do you expect me to just let you keep living in misery?" John spoke
"Don't you see that you bring me misery by giving yourself this much to me? You are the reason I'm in pain." Dave looks to John, the once nameless child, with a fond look.
" . . . One last night. Please. Just one more day with you before I go . . . " John replied, his voice as soft as a frail whisper
"Sure. We can talk about all we did in the past." Dave said happily
John brightened up slightly "heh . . . our past is not anywhere near good you know."
Dave said, "What would you rather we do?"
"I guess talking is not too bad." Said John in response
"There we go." Dave chuckled loudly
for the next 18 hours, the two talked non stop. Times they narrowly escaped death, fought robbers, stole from people, hunted for food. All their memories were bloody, none with a happy ending. Dave called the fact that their still alive a happy ending, but John does not see it as such. During the final moments of the day, the two were dead silent. Having ran out of stories, they started planning the next day and how John will be sold off to one of the death knights, this shook John, knowing that it was a death knight, he could see the various opportunities that could come from them, but what has to be left behind to access these opportunities. Finally the two fell asleep, the night stars dancing above them.