When would it be? When would he ever get to be happy?
Assisi was in tears while his fatherâs whispers would always go around his head.
âIf you become kind, you can.â
Thus, Assisi tried to be kind. He listened well, didnât cry, and endured every pain given to him. He just held on. All because he wanted to be happy.
Looking back at it now, he realized how desperate he had been, but at that time, it was the only truth Assisi knew. If he chose not to believe those words, there was no other way he would have lived. Even when everyone denied that method of living, he clung to it.
If that werenât true, then he had nothing left.
No matter how painful and difficult times were, he never accepted othersâ love. He didnât want to believe that truth, which was really true. Everyone tried to tell him, but he couldnât get himself to believe it.
Why was he even alive if he wasnât loved?
No matter how good and kind he was, he never felt happy.
As if making fun of Assisi, happiness always fled to places he couldnât reach. Thus, he gave up on happiness.
After that, everything felt comfortable.
Then, Caitel, who had been burned to death at thirteen, returned at nineteen.
Caitelâs rebellion spewed a bloody scent on the former Agrigient country. Assisiâs father was swept away by the madness and sword in Caitelâs hand.
It was an effortless task to kill down the women who never held a sword in their hands. Assisi never knew that his father, who was always looking and wanted his mother back, would kill her. By the time Assisi went into his motherâs room, the deed had been done.
âYou are here.â
Soaked in her blood, Assisiâs father greeted.
âCome one now. Iâll send you with her. Letâs all go away together!â
Raising his sword could prevent it, but the man was his father, way older than Assisi, a man experienced in the blade. Meanwhile, Assisi couldnât lift his weapon.
âYou are a cursed child. You will take everyone to hell. Even if you die, this wonât end. You are the devil himself!â
He thought that it couldnât be true. No, he was dissatisfied with everything. Was he really a cursed child who made his parents unhappy? Was that why his father and mother were apart? Was it all his fault? He tried to deny it, kept on denying it.
However, the sight before him destroyed everything. Misfortune everywhere: things were hard to get used to. The pain felt so familiar. He could feel himself alive despite his burning skin.
The sight which unfolded right in front of him was fierce.
âDonât die.â
When he woke up, his father or the sword was no more. Only a man on the ground, holding his mother.
âYou canât die.â
Caitelâs low voice. As he lifted his head, he only saw Caitel gasping for breath in a pool of blood.
âGet up.â
It didnât matter that he cut down his father. Too much had happened to care about it.
âThere is no reason for you to die.â
They didnât mind the blood around them; that was when Caitel spoke to the silent Assisi.
âWhy die in the hands of that human, stupid.â
A red blood dripping blade on the ground.
The sight made Assisi miserable.
It didnât matter what happened. Even if Assisi died, he wouldnât regret the moment.
Because that was his life, and death didnât scare him at all.
However, the fact that he wasnât loved cut him deeper than a sword. He felt so hurt that he forgot to feel pain.
âWhy am I the only one alive?â
âHow would I know that?â
An indifferent and cold response.
Assisi shook his head. He didnât know, but there was one thing he understood.
He lifted his fatherâs sword on the floor. The blood-soaked sword was in a disgusting shade of red. Caitel felt nervous but didnât move to take him down. He wasnât trying to commit suicide; he wanted to die, but he couldnât.
Because he knew that if he died, he would never be saved.
Assisi dropped the sword and knelt on the ground.
âI will be Your Majestyâs knight. I will pay for the sins of my parents on this earth. This is a life Your Majesty saved, so please use me.â
His reason to live was gone, but he couldnât die.
âSo I pay for my sins.â
Tears fell from both their eyes.
âPlease kill me.â
He thought that he wouldnât be accepted. He believed that a dirt-covered kid like Assisi would never be acknowledged. However, Caitelâs answer came as a shock.
âOkay.â
His lord, who neither pushed nor approached anyone.
Such a man had held Assisiâs hand.
âBut if you are with me, you will never be saved.â Said Caitel.
âItâs fine.â
Assisi raised his head while still holding onto Caitelâs hand.
âEven if I will never be saved. I will use my life for you.â
A warm hand comforted him.
Arca III
Hadeian calendar 519, 16th of July, by Ferdel.
We donât know if our Ria is a genius or a criminal.
Sometimes she would have brilliant ideas, but her immaturity shows when I placed her vision into practice.
Caitel thought his child, Ria, is some kind of genius.
Bloody funny!
Hadeian calendar 526, 16th of September, raining.
I donât know how long I have been writing down this diary. Sometimes, the Prime Minister is a small role, but this small role is a massive change for His Majesty.
Hadeian Calendar 528, 12th of May, stormy winds are blowing.
I am just happy that Ria is growing up. I feel bad since she doesnât have a birth mother with her, but seeing the princess follow me around, I feel bad for her. When she was young, she wouldnât even eat her meal with me beside her, but now she is growing into an adult without meâ¦
Hadean Calendar 528, 6th of June.
⦠Caitel stupid bastard.
-diary of an unknown person found inside the palace-