Birth Of A Tyrant.

It was a warm autumn afternoon. And although the wind gave the civilians the sensation that their skin was about to crack open at any moment, they didn't seem to mind It; they still continued in their process of haggling prices, purchasing and selling as well. A few dried leaves danced graciously around the shopping complex- these were among the few that drifted in from the town several miles away, as the complex was devoid of any sign of vegetation, or nature, for that matter. The trees had long rendered themselves Bare, moments before; in the preparation of a potentially long winter. As some grains scattered unto the ground, a few small black birds swooped down immediately to have a taste, as though they were waiting for this moment. "Shoo, shoo!" A middle aged woman who sat in front of her store waved a broom at them angrily, and the petulant birds disappeared momentarily, but not completely, as they relaxed themselves on the roof of the surrounding stalls, waiting for the next time they could strike. A child of about six years of age walked past, although nobody seemed to notice her. Her long black hair which seemed so rough and mangled was almost transforming into dreadlocks, due to the lack of proper maintenance. Her little light brown eyes stared at the food in wonder and amazement, her little mouth almost drooling at the aroma of the food alone. She walked barefooted, her hands and feet long covered in calluses. Up till this point, she had been surviving alone, allowing her instincts to be her guide. She was rather small for her age, stunted to say the least. She took a particular bend in the market stall, until she arrived at the point where they sold freshly baked bread. "Fresh bread, fresh, out of the oven!" The man continued to call out, despite the long line that had formed at the front of his stall. Using advantage of her small size, she squeezed her way to the front. Under the belief that no one would notice, her small but dirty hand made to grab for one of the bread that was being displayed. She flinched when the trader grabbed her smaller hands firmly in his. "Where are your parents, child?" The man inquired. "A-ah, eh?" The child mumbled incomprehensibly. The man's stoic face turned even more frightening, as he glanced up at the customers in the line. "Whose cub is this?" He asked, in a growling tone. Seeing that none of his customers claimed 'ownership' He whipped out the dirty, unkempt child from the line. "You must be a thief, then, one of those street rats." He declared, as he dragged her out. The little girl whined in protest, using her small fist to assault the man who rendered her to captivity. "Such a despicable thing; if her parents didn't want her, why did they have her?" One of the ladies in the line commented. That alone, was good enough to stir up a good deal of murmuring amongst the bystanders. "So you came Here to steal, isn't that so?" The man said, as he reached for a wooden rod. "I will make a living example out of you." He said, as he raised the rod high above his head . "Edvagar, that is too cruel, don't you think so?" A voice suddenly said. "What if the ghosts of her parents lay a curse on you for hurting their child? Afterall you can't tell f they are here with her at this very moment." A man with blood red eyes spoke up from amidst the crowd. "Cruscius" The bald, tanned skinned man muttered. "What is it that you want this time?" The addressed man only scratched his shoulder length black hair. "Oh, dearie me. Do you no longer comprehend English In the afternoon?" He inquired, before his eyes darted to the child. "Hmm? It seems like she is hungry." The man said, as he walked towards them. "Oy! You are cutting the line.." One of the customers complained. "Shut up." He said coolly, although the stare which he gave to the aggrieved was not. The other man winced and went back to the line, wondering what it was that compelled him to speak in the first place. "Here you go, child." Cruscius said, as he passed the bread to the child. "Let go of her hand, Edvagar." Cruscius added, in a warning tone. "Hmph, why don't you make me.. Aaargh!" No sooner had the child acquired what she wanted, than the little girl given her jailer a good bite on the arm, with those tiny teeth of hers. "What an uncultured and spoilt runt!" Some of the civilians In the line cursed after her, as she bounded up the road. "Is her mother perharps a dog?" Edvagar asked, as he stared at the bite marks on his hand. "I did warn you to release her, didn't I?" Cruscius quipped in, not feeling a shred of sympathy for his fellow human being at all. Rather he squinted his eyes at the direction of which the child had run off to.

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 In a dark alley, a little girl could be seen munching her loaf of bread as though it would disappear if she didn't. She momentarily paused when she heard footsteps. She was thinking that they would fade away, before she saw the familiar figure. "Hello!" The man said with a smile. "Is this your little home?" He inquired, as he looked around the alley. Dark and depressing. Filthy as well, with a putrid odor in the air. 'Is this the right environment for a child to grow up in?" The man thought, as he gazed at the child, who sat on a piece of cardboard with a frown, the distrust evident in her eyes. "Don't gaze at me in that manner." Cruscius stated, as he sat beside his little companion on her makeshift rug. "Oh, wow. You were really hungry, weren't you? Even I can't finish this entire thing." Cruscius began, thinking that the child was perharps mute. "How about this, why don't you come with me? I will take good care of you, so there is no need for you to worry." He said. "Why should I go with you?" The child suddenly spoke, causing the man to flinch. "What if you kidnap me and harvest all my internal organs?" She asked him, with her mouthful. A single sweat slid down Cruscuis's face. 'Just what on earth has this child seen that causes her to utter such words?' He thought. "Why do you think I will do that? I purchased that bread for your sake, didn't I?" He inquired, trying to sound as friendly as possible. "Matron Ilya said we shouldn't talk to strangers." The child simply said, as she shifted further away from him. "So you were from the orphanage? Why did you run off? You could have had good parents to adopt you, or you might serve as a priestess In the sanctuary..." "I hate it there." The child simply said, not bothering if she sounded rude interrupting him. Cruscius could only give a self mocking smile at this point. Why did he feel so tense talking to a four year old? "Alright then, let's make a deal." He began, after clearing his throat. "I am going to bring you home with me, by hook or by crook. You should see for yourself, If you like it there. If you don't, however, you can always run off to wherever you please. I won't stop you, alright? I also have two boys of my own, you can play with them, if you deem fit." He informed her. The child just looked at him with pouty lips. "It seems like you are trying to adopt me." She plainly stated. "What an observant child." Cruscius thought. "Alright Mister, we have a deal." She said, as she stretched out her tiny palm. Cruscius, understanding her full intention, did not hesitate to shake it. "What will I call you, by the way?" He said, as he turned to her. "What did they call you at the orphanage?" He inquired. The little girl turned to him, as her small mouth said softly. "Brat." Cruscius choked on his own spittle. "Are you alright, Mister?" The girl asked out of concern, her high pitched voice reverberating around the alley. "I am fine." Cruscius replied, his voice cracked. "Is that what they always Called you?" "Um." The little girl nodded her head. 'What utter nonsense.' Cruscius thought, as the corner of his lips twitched. "Listen." He said, as he turned towards her once more. "From now thenceforth, your name shall be Cornelia, do you understand?" He said, as she gazed at her sharply. The child looked up at him, her eyes shining for reasons best known to her. "I am... Cornelia!" She repeated, a small smile forming unto her face.

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 "What do you think is taking father so long?" A boy of about six years of age inquired, as he laid on the couch, one of his legs dangling lazily from the headrest. "I don't know; but just stay calm, and seat still." What seemed like a twin brother of Cruscius muttered, as he sat on the chair like an adult, his arms crossed. It was already night, and the room was dimly Illuminated by a single candle. "Shall we go to search for him?" The younger boy inquired once more, as he sprang up from the chair. "Ulcan!" The older boy called out as he gazed at his younger brother. "Have you forgotten father's instructions so quickly?" But Ulcan paid no heed, and proceeded to open the front door. "Ulcan, if this candle does go out; I swear.." Jamien began, as the cold wind blew into the room, causing the delicate flame to quiver. But Ulcan stood fixated on the door, and there seemed to be a Silhouette standing on the outside as well. Jamien's hair immediately stood on end; who could it be? "Father!" Ulcan exclaimed, as he made way for the older man to walk past. "You idiot, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Jamien yelled immediately, using a small pillow to hit his brother. Unfortunately, the latter caught it. "It's not my fault that you are so paranoid, Jamien." Ulcan said, while laughing. "Boys, behave." Cruscius cautioned. "Jamien, quit that vulgar habit of yours." Jamien who was standing on the chair, could only click his tongue and sit properly as his father reprimanded him. "Huh? Why is your jacket so big, father? It makes it seem like you are pregnant or something." Ulcan mused. Cruscius smiled. "Well, there is a child in here." He simply stated. "Eh?" Both of his sons exclaimed simultaneously. Cruscius smiled, the way both of his children stared at him as though he were mad, was something he would etch deeply into his memory. He slowly unzipped his jacket, and there laid the sleeping Cornelia. "Hey. We are home now." He whispered to her gently. He had to pick the child up in his arms given her frail she was, and on the way, she had fallen asleep. "What is that?" Ulcan inquired, as he stared at the child who rubbed at her eyes. Cruscius placed her down gently on her feet. "She is so filthy-where did you find her, father?" Jamien inquired, after staring for a while. "This, is Cornelia." Cruscius began, as he patted the child lightly on the head. "Your younger sister." He added. After that declaration, the boys exclaimed all the more loudly.

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 "Huh, to think that she could look so decent." Jamien muttered, as he slightly tilted his head, as he gazed at the child who was wearing a white night gown. With all the dirt washed off her porcelain skin, as well as her hair that sat nearly around her shoulders, she could be compared to be quite a true beauty. Cruscius had taken his time to wash her, scrubbing every inch of her skin, even in between her fingers. Not like he was comfortable with doing that though, before leaving the um... sensitive parts for her to handle it on her own. "So she is going to be our sister, right?" Ulcan said, excitedly, as he sat on the rug beside her. The child however, looked at Ulcan with much suspicion, before recoiling even closer to where Cruscius sat. "Is she mute or something?" Jamien inquired, as he stared at her. "She doesn't really enjoy speaking much." Cruscius explained awkwardly. "What about your wife, mister?" Cornelia innocently asked, as she looked up. In an instant, the atmosphere of the room transformed into that of melancholy. "She.. left us." Cruscius began. "More like she abandoned us." Jamien muttered angrily. "Jamien." His father called out, in a warning tone. "Nevermind that. So, do you like this place?" He asked, as he patted her head. Cornelia hesitated for a while, before nodding. "It is much warmer and nicer than the outside world. I was already thinking about how I would survive this winter." Cornelia admitted, with a small smile on her face. "Thank you, Mister!" She added, with a face full of gratitude.

 Just in that manner, times and seasons changed, and Cornelia got all the more closer to them. Even when she met again with the bread hawker four years from then, he could not recognize her. How could he, given her epic transformation? But she did feel like punching him, just that once. Although, there was something quite unusual about her new family. And that was..

 "Blood bullet!" Jamien exclaimed, as he placed both his index and thumb together in the shape of a gun. Ulcan on the other hand, dodged effortlessly, and the 'bullet' ended up tearing a hole into the glass window instead. "You both.." The ten year old Cornelia began, as she stood in the middle of the room. "Would you two stop? Or else I will report this to father when he comes back!" She exclaimed loudly, for both of them to hear. "Ooh, you are such a daddy's girl." Ulcan teased, as he stuck his tongue at her. No doubt, yes, this family possessed magical capabilities, mostly blood Manipulation. Cornelia sighed. "At this rate the neighbours might as well be more than aware. Hey, were you even listening to me? Get down From there!" Cornelia yelled in an authoritative voice, to Ulcan who was levitating dangerously close to the ceiling. "If you leave any footprints up there, just prepare yourself to clean it." Jamien also stated. Facing threats from both of his siblings simultaneously, Ulcan stopped making grotesque faces at then both and floated down in a gloomy manner. "Why do we have to keep magic a secret anyway?" He asked, as he sat on the chair. "Because that Is what father said." Jamien told him simply. "Your locks are getting too long, come over here, I will help you trim them." Jamien told his sister, who sat prettily at his feet without the slightest hesitation. "Although, What I found ironical is when father said that we were descendants of a duke." Jamien said, as he began to trim away the exceed hair. "How does he even know that?" Ulcan began as he put on a pondering look. "Ah, yes the ancestors, always the ancestors, hail the ancestors." He replied, as he said, as he raised his hands up in a religious manner, as though he was offering prayers up to them. Cornelia giggled, while Jamien only shook his head. "He is going to make a fortune if he was an actor." He said, of which Cornelia nodded to. She patted her head, obviously pleased with Jamien's handiwork. "Ah, my poor heart." Ulcan said, as he clutched his heart, sprawling onto the floor. "Brother, avenge me." Ulcan grabbed hold of Jamien's leg, as he walked past. "I don't have time for your shenanigans." Jamien said coldly, as he shook off his hand from his heel. "But if a Duke were to suddenly come by, claiming that the both of you are his long lost grandsons, would you go with him?" Cornelia inquired, as she sat on the chair, fiddling with her hair. She had gotten quite attached to her new family, and these four years she spent with them where the best years yet. It would Grieve her if she was there suddenly part with them. "Absolutely not-where was he all these fourteen years of my life?" Jamien inquired. Ulcan gazed at his siblings, mouth agape. "Do the both of you really believe the story that father told?" He inquired, as he stared at them in an extremely stupid manner. "Yes." Cornelia promptly replied. " what reason would he possibly have to lie to us?" Jamien asked, in a manner of reply. Ulcan scratched his head awkwardly. "Anyways, congratulations, shorty. This autumn will make it four years since you became a member of our family." Ulcan said, as he patted her head. "Get your hands off me. You will ruin my hairdo." Cornelia snapped at him. "I wonder what father will bring home this time, he always brings something special, just like.. a father giving his daughter a gift on her birthday." Ulcan analysed, as he sat next to Cornelia. "Well, we don't know her actual day of birth, so figuratively speaking, it is her birthday." Jamien notified him. "You don't know your birthday, shorty?" Ulcan continued to tease his sister. "How do you possibly expect Me to know? I have been in the orphanage since I was a baby." She explained, before she added with much irritation. "Stop leaning on me!" "I am not!" Ulcan refuted without delay. Jamien could only shake his head at the antics of both siblings, although there was a slight smile on his face.

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Night fell upon the town once more. In a dimly Illuminated room, two siblings could be seen slumbering. Cornelia had her head resting on Jamien's lap, of which the latter softly patted her head. Ulcan was sprawled on the ground without the slightest remorse, and was snoring like a pig. Just then the door creaked open. "Father.." Jamien called out, when he saw the familiar figure. The latter however, bid him to shush, as he placed his index finger, on his lips, as he glanced cautiously behind him. Jamien frowned, something wasn't quite alright, his father seemed.. troubled. "Take your siblings and come with me." He said in a seemingly distressed manner, as he cautiously closed the door.

 "Where are we headed?" Ulcan muttered groggily, as his brother pulled him along. Jamien however had long placed Cornelia in the cupboard, before placing Ulcan in there as well. It did not really matter though; the cupboard was quite spacious- it wasn't like they had a lot of clothes to spare anyways. "Do not step a foot out, irregardless of what you see or hear." Cruscius told him, after ushering Jamien in as well. "Father.." Jamien began, but Cruscius was long gone.

 Cruscius had already went to the living room, where two men sat in the darkness. The room was already illuminated by blue fire. "We were waiting for you, lost one." One of the cloaked figure began. "You were rather fast, even though you don't quite use your abilities to the fullest." The other cloaked figure began. Every nerve and fiber in Cruscius's body was warning him that these people were dangerous. He didn't know who or what they were, but he was certain of one thing: these people had powers, and they were out for his life. "Why so silent?" One of the cloaked figures began. "We will make your death fast and painless, no need to Fret." One or the figures began, and within a split second, he delivered a crucial blow to Cruscius, which sent the latter flying around the room like a ragdoll.

 Jamien frowned when he heard the terrifying sound. He had also heard an unfamiliar voice earlier, but he couldn't identify exactly who it was. Why were they making trouble for his father? And what was the true identity of these people? "Brother, why did father keep us In here?" Ulcan began, with a trembling voice. Before he could reply, a small hand equally tugged on his shirt. "Brother, go and get father quickly.. I have the intuition, that something bad might happen..." "Shush." Jamien whispered quietly, as he glanced at the two children. The fear was beyond imminent in their eyes, even he had never Seen Ulcan look so distressed before. "Everything is going to be alright; father is going to be alright." He reassured them.

 Cruscius coughed out blood weakly, as he sat among the rubble of what used to be the dining table. It was more than clear that his there was only so much left of the vitality he once possessed, but his assailant mercilessly held him by the locks of his hair, compelling him to raise his head. "I told you.. I really don't know what you are talking about." His voice came forth, barely audible than a whisper. "Wow, this one is quite tough." The cloaked figure said, he yanked the locks harder, causing him to groan In pain. "Are you not satisfied yet?" His companion inquired, as he stode towards him. "Let him be, he is already as good as dead anyway." The figure urged him. The other one clicked his tongue In annoyance, before releasing Cruscuis's head in a crude manner. "Does he have any descendants? It's best if we get rid if them all; they are all going to constitute a nuisance in the near future." The one of which the question was being directed to, glanced briefly at the passage. His blue eyes Made contact with a pair of red eyes in the darkness. "None that I know of." The other man replied, after a brief period of hesitation. "Let's leave then, we have no purpose to linger here any further." He concluded, as his companion trailed after him.

 Cruscius gave a small sigh In the darkness, he was aware of the fact that the men had left. Ha.. they had abilities, alright, and they knew how to use it. He could barely breathe, as his chest was caved in. His sternum was completely fractured, and he could feel the fragments of his bones pricking his lungs as he inhaled. "Father.." He heard a familiar voice call out to him. Oh, it was Jamien. This brat, didn't he tell him to stay put? But at least he could see him again, he thought, as he placed his hand lightly on Jamien's cheek. He still had a lot to tell him; a lot of plans he had for the future. "Please live.. ... a good life." He managed to say, before his head slumped downwards, never to rise once more. "Father.." Jamien said softly, as he stared at the corpse, hot tears streaming down his face. He couldn't cry out loud, neither could he curse at his father's murders. He just knelt there, feeling utterly useless. "Father.." "Father.." Two more voices called out. He watched as he siblings tried fuitlessly to awaken a man that was long gone. "Cornelia.." Ulcan called out softly, as he came to a realisation. "No, father is not dead, he can't be dead, right Jamien?" She asked, as she stared at her brother for support. "Jamien? Father isn't" She tried to reach out to him, as the latter stood up, only to receive a slap on her hand. "What does it seem like!" Jamien suddenly exclaimed, pushing her back Down to the ground. "Stop being delusional! Those it look like he will get up anytime soon?" He asked, as he gazed down at her. "Y-you lied! You said father is going to be alright! You are a liar, liar, liar! I hate you!" Cornelia said, in a feverish manner, before she stormed into the house. "Ulcan, you go after her. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself." Jamian instructed his brother weakly. "But.." Ulcan hesitated, but one look from his brother got him moving.

 The surrounding neighborhood was quite calm and quite, ignorant of the tragedy that had befallen a certain household. To a certain teenage Boy, who stood outside, staring at the moon, a bloody imprint on the side of his face, it all seemed like a dream. "But It is not. If it is, I want to wake up so badly.." He began, as tears streamed down his face. He screamed his lungs out into the night. "I swear.." He began, as he recalled the color of hair that peeked out from underneath the hood. "I will strip you of everything you ever loved, and all you will ever desire! Not until my breath goes turbid!" He gripped his fingers into his palm, blood slowly dripping onto the soil. "Ha, live a good life indeed." He scoffed at his father's last words, as the physique of both men briefly flashed acrossed his eyes once more. He smiled sadistically, which caused him to look all the more ghastly. A terrifying change had just taken place.