A boy with royal blue hair stepped briskly through the plaza square, weaving expertly between bartering customers and chatting families. The lively atmosphere was contagious, making anyone who stepped into the market place feel sociable.
The scent of cooked meat and vegetables permeated through the air, they all originated from humble food stalls or vendors.
'Cabbage, check. Carrots, check... Next up, lamb!' the boy listed down mentally, his cobalt eyes looking down at the paper and fiddling with it. He frowned when it tore in half.
'Oops..'
He had a habit of accidentally breaking things, even when he was careful. Afterwards, he'd have an overwhelming urge to piece it back together.
'Can't do much to fix it..' He grumbled, shoving the pieces of paper into his pocket.
In his other hand was a linen bag filled with various ingredients.
Currently, he was buying groceries.
'I can already guess lunch based on the ingredients.' The boy thought in passing, licking his lips unconsciously. 'A Sunday Roast!'
Approaching a butcher's stall, he waved as he greeted the owner- a tall man in his twenties with short brown hair, a thick beard and light blue eyes.
"Hey, James!" He called out.
"Lancelot! Have you been well? Put in a good word for me to Miss Orca!" James said with a wink.
Lancelot rolled his eyes at James' usual antics.
Miss Orca was the director of the Orphanage, a mother to all the children inside it.
Afterall, family was made from bonds, not blood.
"6 kilograms of lamb, please."
"That'd be 3 silver." James extended his arm.
'Prices went up...' Lancelot thought poignantly.
10 Copper was equivalent to 1 Silver.
10 Silver was equivalent to 1 Gold.
10 Gold was equivalent to 1 Platinum.
Opening the small pouch attached to his leather belt, be quickly fished out out 3 Silver and placed it in James hand.
Miss Orca had trusted him with some of the Orphanage's funds. The reason being he was the oldest, turning 18 in a few months.
After weighing it, James hefted the sizeable chunk of meat and wrapped it up in cloth, handing it to Lancelot.
Lancelot took it as he nodded, walking off hastily.
He promised to be back at midday, but the Sun was already setting!
"See you around, kid!" James called out to his retreating figure with a smile.
"Yeah, see you around!" Lancelot responded, waving.
Once Lancelot was gone, the smile on James' face grew, turning into a maniacal grin.
Lancelot walked down the street, whistling and looking around at his surroundings idly.
Due to recent improvements implemented by the King, most houses were made out of brick with wooden roofs. The older houses remained with either stone or wooden walls, complete with roofs composed of sticks, mud and thatch.
Every now and then, he would a see church belonging to the patron deity of the Solar Kingdom, the Sun God. The small town he lived in was situated near the border of said kingdom.
The church had carefully placed pillars and grand arches, all made out of stone polished to perfection. There was also coloured glass panes depicting a majestic figure wrapped in flames and emitting sunlight. Behind him was a small sun.
Although Lancelot wasn't pious by any means, his heart still swelled with awe and hope.
'Thump!'
He knocked out his stupor by someone roughly bumping into him,he tumbled onto the floor, the linen bag and wrapped meat clattering onto floor.
Lancelot was filled with anger, his eyes darting up as he caught a glimpse of a robed man, his facial features hidden perfectly by his hood with the exception of his single blood-red iris.
In a blink, the man was gone, seemingly blended into the shadows.
'What a jerk!' Lancelot thought angrily, standing up and picking his discarded belongings.
Soon, just as the sun set neatly on the horizon, blanketing the town in an orange-red layer, Lancelot reached the Orphanage. It was a large building made out stone and wood with many windows. Uncharacteristically, all of them were covered by blinds. He was faced with a familiar door made out of oak, likely taken from the Verdure Forest that surrounded the kingdom.
A metallic, coppery smell pervaded his nose and mouth.
'Ew, what's that smell..? It's kinda like blood..' Lancelot thought, pinching the bridge of his nose in disgust.
'Thud!'
Lancelot knocked once, shifting impatiently.
He had an eerie feeling about this, an instinctual part of him telling him to flee.
'Why isn't there anyone coming to open the door? Are all 30 of those rascals snoozing or something?'
There were, excluding him, 30 other children in the Orphanage. It was impossible for all of them to be sleeping so early.
He knocked thrice.
'Thud! Thud! Thud!'
"Hello? Anyone there?" He asked loudly.
The feeling grew, it felt as if someone splashed an ice cold bucket of water onto Lancelot's back.
'Why isn't anyone opening the door?.. I gotta find out what's happening in there! I'll break this damn door down if I have to!' Lancelot thought rashly.
There was no way he could wait!
He slammed his foot into the door, mustering every once of strength his scrawny frame could produce.
'Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!'
Eventually, the lock gave out. The door slowly creaked open.
Panting, Lancelot slowly advanced. He walked slowly into the dimly lit front room, a singular candle barely illuminated the dark space.
One foot infront the other, one step at a time, he inched closer and closer to the living room. The smell of blood growing nauseatingly stronger with every step.
The meat and bag were long forgotten, lying discarded on the doorstep.
The door to the living room was already open.
As Lancelot passed through the door, a decapitated head greeted him.
It had long, blonde hair. The upper-right part of it's skull was caved in, gray matter and blood spewing from the indent. One of it's emerald eye's were missing, whilst the other hanged out it's socket, facing Lancelot.
Lancelot stared into the mutilated skull of Miss Orca.
A torrent of bile, stomach acid and today's lunch made it's way ruthlessly through his throat, forcing itself out of Lancelot's mouth violently.
He lent onto a stone wall for support, bending over and retching.
He weakly lifted his head, his vision hazy.
'This isn't real.. I refuse to believe it! It's just a prank.. yeah, a prank. Once I find those idiot's, I'll teach them a lesson.'. Lancelot thought in denial.
He stepped over the severed head of Miss Orca, his eyes darting around the living room as his heart sank.
Blood. Everywhere.
Innards, limbs and carcases of children decorated the living room. Some were pinned pinned against the walls with exaggeratedly big nails. Some were dismembered, whilst others had their neck snapped, complete with bluish bruises.
In the middle of the room, there was a beautifully drawn crescent moon, the ink used was blood.
Beside it there were countless eyes used to depict stars. Some were brown, some were blue and some were green.
In this instance, everything Lancelot knew was taken from him.
He would never see Percival's carefree smile again.
He would never hear Kyrie's angry scolding again.
He would never taste Miss Orca's cooking again.
Lancelot's knees gave out as he stared vacantly at the twisted art piece.
He could feel his very soul crack.
The crack spread through his soul, through memories and emotions, through his dreams and aspirations, through everything he was as a person as he Shattered.
There was only sorrow left.
Instantly, that sorrow was extinguished.
In it's place, overwhelming anger flooded in!
His vision blurred as his head spun.
Someone had done this, a human or group of humans had voluntarily done this.
To him. To them.
And they would pay,
He would make sure of it.
Suddenly, his vision was filled with utter darkness.
It was as if he was in a void, a vacuum where light itself was forbidden.
He was standing on a cold, black ocean.
'Was...was that just a dream..?' Lancelot thought hopefully.
"Oh no, it was very much real." A loud, booming voice reverberated, it's tone carrying quite a bit of amusement.
A massive, gothic-style throne outlined itself infront of Lancelot, startling him.
One of it's legs alone was twice as big as him, with him being 5'10.
Slowly, he cast his gaze higher. Inscribed into the throne were intricate patterns of swords, humanoid figures and undescribable symbols. Just looking at hem made Lancelot's head ache.
He cast his gaze even higher, looking at-
Involuntarily, his head lowered itself. It seemed to have a will of it's own, his gaze firmly planted onto the black, rippling ocean that he stood on.
"A mortal isn't fit to gaze upon a God." The being stated, hinting at it's status.
'A God..?' Lancelot thought in confusion.
There were only two gods he knew,
The God Of Day, The Sun God, The Embodiment of Righteousness, purity and all-things good. This was the god of the Solar Kingdom. This religion had existed from the start of mankind.
The other was The God Of Night, The Moon God, The Embodiment of Evil, degeneracy and all-things evil. This was the god of a cult that had existed since ancient times, even being the main religion of a neighboring kingdom and a few primitive villages and tribes.
However, Lancelot didn't have the luxury to be skeptical.
He was experiencing something supernatural. His best bet would be to believe whatever this existence says.
Hurriedly, Lancelot started genuflecting.
"My Lord, I offer my soul to you. I pray that you resurrect-"
"Denied." The self-proclaimed god interrupted.
Lancelot was shocked at this abrupt denial.
"M-may I ask why, my Lord?" He asked politely.
"I haven't recuperated enough power, nor is your measly soul worth such an act." The being explained truthfully.
"I do, however, have another offer." Lancelot could hear the smile in 'His' tone
"You will help me regain my strength. In return, you will become my Blessed, reverting your transformation and allowing you to build enough strength to realise your petty desire of revenge." The God offered.
"Of course, if you refuse this offer, you will return to your mutated state."
"Mutated..?" Lancelot asked, confused.
In response, the being chuckled. "How unknowledgeable. I shall relieve you of this ignorance."
The water underneath him shimmered as they cycled through a kaleidoscope of colours. Eventually, they settled into a scene.
It was the living room of the Orphanage, blood splattered around with limbs decorating the walls.
In the middle of the room stood a monstrous creature. It looked roughly humanoid, with three pairs of bloody arms having ruptured out of it's back. The arms had extremely long and thing fingers, eyeballs decorated along it's torso as they darted around.
"Is that.. me?" Lancelot asked, shaken.
"Yes, now, your answer?" The being said impatiently.
Lancelot's answer was obvious.
Taking a deep breath, he said.
"Yes."
"Good." The being's voice was, yet again, laced with amusement.
"I hope for you to amusement me sufficiently.
Now, let me return to my slumber."
Then, he was falling.