The White Angel of Death

Chapter 1 : The Rain of Misery

The cloudy, grey sky reflected the grim, ugly looking streets of Hearthguard. A relatively small village just north of the river splitting the northern kingdom into two parts. In the lower half it gets warmer. The capital is near the ocean in the west and in sight of the great mountain range which separates the north from the Land of Cyra or also known as the Stone Kingdom. The land above the river is vastly bigger, colder and full of wilderness. Many small villages take refuge among the thick woods or small lakes and ponds. 

The sun was already on its way to the edge of the horizon, hiding behind the thick layer of dark grey clouds. As it grew colder, the people started moving around. Gathering the needed supplies, ending their work shift and preparing for nightfall. Five men were assigned to the watch posts. In these gloomy, tough winters food stock can grow short and a village so close to the river, there is always a risk for southern intruders to invade. 

In the midst of people walking through freezing mud, a small boy with bright white hair, emerged from the crowd. Still a youngling, Toshiro, slipped through the alleys and narrow paths with a bottle of liquor in his hands. A gracious reward for a hard days work, cutting wood, however unfitting for such a young boy. 

Not long until Toshiro finally arrived at his small house. Near at the end of a long road of homes, he carefully placed the bottle on the ground and started pushing the door open. Moments later he entered the warm cottage with the liquor in his possession again. 
Inside the candles were on and the smell of food reached the boy's nose. In the centre of the room he was standing in, there was a large table with empty bottles piled in the middle, where his father was slurping a bowl of soup, while on the opposite side his older brother with longer white hair poured himself a trowel of soup as well.
The older brother noticed his younger sibling and gave relieved expression.
"Welcome back, Toshiro. He said with a relaxed smile. "Hungry?" Asked the almost fully aged teenager.
The father, who so far hasn't said or done anything else but ingest food, suddenly stopped eating and turned his head towards his youngest son.
"Did you get it?" Asked the man roughly.
Toshiro walked to his father and handed him the liquor. 
"Ah, finally." The old geezer grabbed the bottle, pulled the cork off the top and starting drinking impatiently. 
Few moments later he stopped and looked back at his son.
"What' you looking at, huh? Waiting for my approval?" Spoke the man annoyed. "You think, you deserve any sort of gratitude, after killing your mother on your way out. Be grateful I still let you eat, you monster." Ranted the father disrespectfully, slowly letting more alcohol kick in.
"Father, please." Replied Katsuro, the older brother, as Toshiro trotted slowly towards a chair next to his sibling. "Stop blaming Toshiro. Mother would not us have speak in such a manner."
The drunken fool chugged the rest of the bottle and slammed its bottom onto the table.
"What would you know of Kiyomi? You were just a naive boy, when your brother ripped her open. All you did, was watch her bleed to death. If I had been there, I may have been able to save her." His growing anger suddenly dipped, as he shrunk his shoulders, while still remaining seated. 
In a sad tone the man continued. "Now the only thing I have to remember her by, is the existence of her greatest failures." He looked at both of his sons in utter distaste.
Katsuro clinched his fists together beneath the table. The words of his faster cursing him increasingly every single second. After a moment he stopped gazing at the bed far in the corner, where is mother once laid, and now looked at his father.
"Well, maybe if you had spent more time caring for your wife, you wouldn't have gone out hunting with your friends, hours before her giving birth. If you had spent less time killing wolves for sport and instead protected our family, mother could still be alive." Yelled Katsuro furiously. 
Toshiro stopped eating and looked up to his brother, speechless.
The old man leapt out of his chair infuriated. "Say that again, boy!" 
Katsuro leaned closer to his father. "You are a failure as a man." 
BAAM!
The drunken man slapped his elder son. "I'll show you, what it's like to be a man."
Then, suddenly the young man turned to his younger brother with a worrying expression.
"Go upstairs, Toshiro. I don't want you to see this." Said Katsuro in a hurry.
"But, brother..." Said the young child. 
"Toshiro, please. Listen to what I say. Everything is going to be alright."
After quickly hesitating, Toshiro hurried up the stairs, into his sleeping chambers and closed the door.
Crouching next to his bed, the frightened child plucked his ears with his fingers and began shaking. As he closed his sky blue eyes, he reminisced about the last time something similar had happened.
In the very same room where Toshiro was now, not too long ago, in the same position, he remembered Katsuro opening the door to his room one dreadful night. 
His face swollen and covered in bruises. Slowly the elder brother walked to his sibling. He let himself fall next to him and removed Toshiro's fingers from his ears. The young child opened his blue eyes and looked at his brother worryingly.
"Brother, your face! Why did you let father do this?" Asked Toshiro in tears.
"Shh, it doesn't matter, Toshiro. None of it does." Said Katsuro relaxed. 
Despite being heavily beaten to a pulp, he remained strong for his younger brother.
He reached into his trouser's pocket and took something out.
"... Because in the end ... it was worth it." Katsuro revealed a shining silver coin. 
Toshiro rubbed the tears of his face and gazed upon what his brother had shown him. 
"Father does not want me to have it. However I know mother would have wanted you to have it." 
Katsuro turned the coin with the tip of his fingers. One side showing a beautifully carved out eye and the other a set of wings.
"Before you were born, mother would show me this coin. She said it was a gift from angels. The eye symbolizes their watchfulness, while the wings their protection."
Katsuro quickly stopped speaking and wiped a growing tear from the bottom of his eye. 
"If it only had worked the day mother died..." stuttered the young man, trying not to cry.
"I'm sorry, brother. It was my fault mother died. Like dad said, I am a monster."
Katsuro suddenly turned to Toshiro and grabbed him by his shoulders.
"Don't you dare listen to that filthy man, you call father. He is not your father. He is a pathetic, bitter image of something we lost long ago, ... or I did." The elder brother stared directly into Toshiro's eyes. "Stay strong, brother. We are better, we will prevail and the day will come, when we will finally have out peace. Life will never be easy for us, however I will do everything in my power to create a world in which we no longer must tolerate the existence of someone like him." Said Katsuro confidently and with hope in his eyes. "Do you trust me?"
Toshiro again removed all his tears from his face with his dirty hands. 
"I do, brother. But ... please ... I want no more of this. Father ..."
"I know. I will handle it. I made a promise." Replied Katsuro while handing the coin over to his brother. "Will you keep it safe for me? Never leave it aside!"
"Only over my dead body."