Man at Arms

Chapter Twenty-Six: Weep

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

My innocence was taken from me when I was eight years old. My young eyes took in the gore, blood, and pain that lay before them. Starting the night my mother died. Two days before we grieved, Lucian took Callus away from me, sending my twin to a place I will never find. I was left alone and terrified. No father, mother, or brother. I beg him to bring Callus back to me, but he just laughs in my face.

"I lost everything because of your father, as a payment, I now own your lives. You will pay for everything your father has done, you will pay for the pain and suffering he has caused me. If you want Callus, earn why you should see him, Calix," he said before he kicked me out of the house.

I was homeless when I was eight years old. I grew up on the streets, fighting for my life. I satisfy my hunger by stealing food or digging through the trash for scraps. I once had to wrestle a dog for dominance over a bone thrown from a passing car. I ended up nipping the last of the flesh and giving him the bone.

I met the most dangerous men on the street, who preyed on the weak. One of them almost killed me, well almost, because every time I was on the brink of death, Lucian would show up. He would nurse me back to health, and when I could manage to walk alone, he sent me back to the streets again. It was the same bloody routine every time. I asked for a quick death many times, but he never gave it to me. No, if I want death, I must also earn it.

Then there was this stranger, an old lady who gave me the takeout food from the restaurant where I was standing by asking for coins from passersby. I was over the moon. No one had shown me humanity since I wandered into the street. It was always the cruelest, most horrible people who treated me like trash, as I already am. But that little joy in me has stripped away when the same big guy who always beats me saw the food and wanted it for himself. For the first time in my life, I wanted to fight, I wanted to protect what was mine, and I wanted to fight for justice, but the guy was much bigger than me, and he had a troop that played dirty for him. He stabbed me with a knife. The first deep scar on my skin. I watched in between life and death how he ate the food the nice woman gave to me. It was pizza. He ate everything, leaving the box to me after stepping his dirty foot in it.

Something has awakened in me. I curled the dirt in my hands, but I didn't ask for death at the time. I demanded retribution.

I knew I wanted to kill him. Badly. Darkly. Terribly.

"You see, Calix. Life is a jungle. If you want to survive, if you want to rise to the top, if you want to be powerful, then get your mama's panties off you and fight. Show me how you're deserving, show me why you should see your brother again. If you destroy that guy, I'll let you see Callus." That was Lucian telling me as he nursed me back to health.

He doesn't need to use Callus against me that time because I am smoldering with wrath. When I got back out on the street, I beat that guy to death. Closer. I craved more after seeing the blood that pooled from his head after I bashed him with a sharp stone. I felt the deep satisfaction that purred in my chest when he apologized and begged for mercy.

I never felt guilty about killing him. He earned death, so I gave it to him.

The streets feared me. No one ever muttered my name loudly for me to hear. No one could look me in the eyes without seeing the blood pooling on their feet. They respected me not because I beat up mean guys but because I fight for justice. I am the power in the street, and I have my own damn armies.

Yet years had passed, and I was still powerless. I was still the homeless boy who walks around blindly and weeps on the streets, calling out my brother's name. Despite everything I've proved, I'm still powerless.