little bluebird ( wmmap )

𝗍𝗐𝗈 . 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋𝗌

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒
★ 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗈
( tw; mentions of abuse and gore )

    The horror filled scene of crimson red turned ghastly— the boy fell forwards. His knees and upper body that was once holding him up went limp. The murky, dark, low-hanging clouds settled back into a golden and white hue. The thunder that was roaring simmered into a symphony of birds chirping and the breeze that once flowed so violently turned still. Even the leaves, that swirled around the small blond, fell around his body. Achille's vividly blue eyes turned hallow, yet they still stared into the eyes of the Emperor. Cursing him in death.

    Claude didn't feel anything, perhaps shock and empathy were needed, however, he had never met the child. Turning his eyes into slits, he glanced at the eighteen-year-old's scrawny body and simply turned to Felix. " Get someone to take care of this."

    An illuminating light filled his view soon after he saw the blissful darkness and the relief that filled him disappeared. Achilles opened his gem-like eyes once again, and could only stare in confusion. His mouth still echoed his screaming of agony and wistful tears flowed down his cheeks. Something felt wrong, minutes ago he had felt the pain of death, and his magic combusting itself from inside his spirit to outwards. However, Achilles could still smell the irony substance, his small eyes wandered where he laid.

Achilles was on the cold floor with a warm blanket surrounding his small, weak body. His blurry eyes could only see so much, yet what he did see were stiff carcasses covered in red. They looked hazed over, yet his stomach coiled with disgust and he gurgled out a cry. Achilles was a boy who had seen many dead bodies- however, these woman who laid dead, seemed dipped in fury.

    Beside Achilles was... a baby? His small eyes wandered more and soon met who he had been longing to escape from. The Emperor, his father; Claude. The little prince nearly screamed out then narrowed his eyes in the direction of the monster. It seemed like the beastly ruler noticed, his red dipped sword dragged beside him, creating a static, loud shreee sound.

    " What name did she give... him," Claude spoke with malice, as if he were a bug under his foot. A guard spoke softly to him and the man chuckled, looking down at the small body of his son. " Call him Achilles."

    The red-haired guard's lips parted softly at the Emperor, knowing that the names of the royals in the empire were treasured. Yet, his King gave such a small, pitiful boy such a name to bare? The guards around him also shifted in discomfort. Achilles couldn't blame them and his resent and hate for Claude grew stronger. " You there, take him to the other manor. The Ruby Palace is not for a boy like him."

   Achilles watched as his origin began and couldn't help his feelings of helplessness and disgust. All he wanted was to be loved— yet he was denied this privilege in every way in his past life. In this life, perhaps he would dedicate himself to something new other than the foolish act. Killing the cold-hearted bastard of a father before he had the chance to reap hellish agony on both of his children again sounded wonderous.

    Now, though as his small body was held by a shaking guard, the man walked their way out of the palace. Achilles saw the sorrow-filled and empathetic eyes of the man above him, so with as much force as he could the small boy rubbed his pudgy cheek against the man's hand. His frustration grew as the guard didn't look down at him, only staring straight ahead with fear and horror in his mind. Achilles recognized the man, he was Sir Hendrix— the soon-to-be golden knight of the empire. Hendrix bared witness to the slaughter, and may of even token part of it as a young man. How was he already so cowardly?

Achilles, his thoughts whistled like the wind, You can't say anything of cowardice with your record.

The reborn child ignored it and hardened his resolve.

    All Achille's felt towards the knight was fury, fury that he wouldn't save him, fury that he was back here again— he was so pissed off that when he finally left Claude, he was born again. This time he'd know what neglect he'd go through, the abuse, the gaslighting, the manipulation, and horrible acts he'd see again.

No, Achilles wouldn't do this again. When he was old enough to run, he get away from this life.

   No more depending on his abusers. No more becoming small for someone else. He wouldn't wait outside his manor to see if the Emperor would come to see him until dark, he wouldn't beg the gods for his father to love him. Achilles wouldn't cry for anyone and certainly wouldn't beg for the love of his so-called father. Yet the small boy had to try again, reaching his small, weak hand up and placing it onto the knight's hand. Perhaps if he had to golden knight on his side a tiny bit this time, he'd suffer a little less.

   Soon enough though, one of his earlier nannies— Helena— the cruel and nasty woman was standing at the doors of the Sapphire Manor. Greedy in name and stole anything she could get her dirty hands on, which was almost everything. He could remember her cold looks and how she'd snap at him if he did anything she deemed 'out of bounds. Achilles still felt the cold leather of the belt on his back when he stared at her. He thanked god that she'd be killed when he was five— Achilles was so happy that he sobbed that day.

   The woman looked at him curiously as he didn't cry, only frowning softly and glowering in her direction— how odd, she noted. " I can take him now, I'm sure you have an important job to do Sir Hendrix'."

   She grimaced at his blood-covered sword, taking the baby into her arms instead. Achille's wiggled lightly in her grip but felt his eyes grow hazy— everything felt small as he finally fell asleep.

   When he awoke again, the place he was felt gross. It was begrimed and made his nose wrinkle— ah, just like home again. He could remember the thick coats of dust that covered the rooms from unfinished maid work. Instead, they choose to steal the funds given for him, eat his food and take his items, and simply ridicule him harshly either physically or mentally.

   God, he was hungry.

   But he was more than angry at the gods above, his tiny fist-shaking. They knew how much he wished for death yet placed him here again. His heart ached softly as he realized a stray tear was leaving his cheeks— more tears came after.

   It hurt. It hurt so much. The pain of death was manageable, yet knowing that he died just to live this life again was somehow worse. More tears spilled off of his chubby cheeks, letting louder sobs leave his small lips. Why did he have to do this again? His heart constricted further as Helena rushed into the room, a scowl on her lips as she held a small bottle. Some maids followed behind her, yet all of them looked at him the same.

   Like he was the prey and they were the predators.

Edited: May 12/22