Servant of Evil - Dreamnotfound

Chapter 1

George's first memories are of vast fields and candid smiles.

He was no older than nine, yet his lithe frame was that of a seven-year-old. It's not like he didn't like it, he cherished it even. When he laid down on the flowerbeds, he would sink right in and they would hide him from the cruel world if only for a brief moment. When he ran through the tall grass, he would disappear from sight and they would take him to an adventure in another reality if only for a fleeting second. When he stood upright, he would barely reach the same height as his younger friends and they would make him feel like he has forever to burn with them.

He was due to grow up soon, but for now he could bask in the ignorance of youth.

George moves his gaze from the clouded skies to the low hanging branch hovering over them to watch his youngest friend scale the slope of the trunk, the wild strands of dark hair flowing in the slight breeze as untamed as his demeanor. He resists the urge to call him back down just so he can smooth out the creases in his tousled shirt and wipe away the dirt on his face; it would only make him feel older than ever. He does, however, nag at Sapnap to be careful which only earns him a stuck-out tongue from a petulant child and wheezing laughter from the other petulant child sitting next to him. He sends Dream a formidable glare for someone of his age and is pleased when the other quickly breaks out into lighthearted apologies.

They fall into an excerpt of their own, giggles bubbling up in between overdramatic acting and playful quips. If there's one thing they easily fall into, it's bouts of theatrics and wild scenarios. It's just so fun to make a story out of nothing, to spin the threads of their tales as they see fit. It's just so fun to fall into roles to see if they can pull it off, to explore the characters they can play. Besides, it's one of the only things they have control over, after all.

This time, George plays the part of a betrayed friend and Dream the one asking for forgiveness. He won't lie, it does turn out rather entertaining especially when Dream starts to offer the most absurd of things for repentance. He ends up picking flowers instead and giving him a bouquet as a peace offering, picking the most vibrant of colors that George can see and describing to him those he cannot. He can see the azure of hydrangeas and of the boundless skies, while he cannot see the vermilion of poppies and of Sapnap's wild eyes. He can see the ochre of dahlias and of worn parchments, while he cannot see the coral of peonies and of delicious berries.

He may not be able to see color properly, but he knows the emeralds of Dream's eyes are the most radiant of shades.

George does not hide that thought. He says it out loud bluntly, and that earns him more of the colors he cannot appreciate in their entirety. That earns him carmine spreading on Dream's cheeks and a blur of scarlet in the form of Sapnap and his bright attire to jump down on the ground next to him and ask if he thinks the same of his eyes too. He laughs and assures him exactly so; he smiles and ruffles the hair on their heads and tells them that he's sure they're the brightest people to ever be part of his life. He tells them that he's sure they're the most precious people to him, and that he wouldn't trade them for anything.

This is the first time he's ever been so sure of anything.

And so, he spends the rest of his free days like this. They run and play, and they pretend that no world exists outside of their own. They laugh and spar, and they pretend that they won't be holding real blades soon. They talk and smile, and they pretend that the timer for their time together does not count down. They hold no other wish than to remain like this for the rest of their lives. They're beyond happy, beyond ecstatic. No one should have dared to take it away, but they do anyway because the world demands too much of them. The world demands too much of the people living on it, and the three pay the price of their childhood for it. It is cruel, and it is merciless, and it is the world they have come to know.

Sapnap bawls. He bawls and clings and screams, but it does not change anything. Sapnap is seven and his hands are far too small to be holding the hilt of a sword, but he will be anyway. Dream cries. He cries and sobs and whimpers, but it does not change anything. Dream is eight and his hands are far too weak to hold up an entire Kingdom, but he will be anyway. George does not bawl or cry. He sits and stares and contemplates, and his silent and grounding presence calms the other two down. George is nine and his hands are just barely big and strong enough to pull them all into a warm hug, and so he does. For a moment, he could pretend everything was alright.

Even as children they had known from the start that this wouldn't last long, but it didn't make it hurt any less when the time to leave had come.

"I'll wait for you." The young Dream had said on the afternoon before the night the other two were due to set sail, with droplets welling up in emerald eyes and rolling down splotchy red cheeks. The tears shone in the light like diamonds, like the mark of his family and when they dropped to the ground it felt like an oceanwide gap was slowly building in between them. "No matter how long it'll take... you'll both come back to me, right?"

George had no power to take away the bitterness of parting, so all he could give was the sweetness of a promise.