The air leaves Byleth's lungs as a strong kick impacts his chest, throwing him to the ground. Trying to get up, he suddenly sees stars as the muddy sole of a boot descends on his head, keeping it firmly rooted in the dirt.
"Where did ya find the damn nerve to stand up to me brat? I thought someone like you woulda learned their place a long time ago."
The man waits a moment, listening for a response. When he doesn't get one, he raises his foot and smashes it back down on the boy's skull with savage glee.
"That's fine, I enjoy it this way too, remember?"
The attacker chuckles at that, as if amused by his demented words and actions.
Lying amidst the moist earth and decaying leaves, the budding Eisner offers no resistance, having long since resigned himself to this fate but only now fully accepting it. 'This is what I deserve.' This thought shoots through his aching form over and over as his dull eyes stare at the mud he's currently planted in.
He doesn't react to his abuser's acrid remarks, nor his beatings. Enduring the painful kicks to his stomach and head, he grits his teeth through the hammering torment until the blows subside, allowing him to draw a shaky breath.
"Fuckin' trash, next time don't forget what you are."
With that comment the demoralized and aching youth expects the man to leave, but his darkened globes widen ever so slightly as he feels a newfound wetness begin to soak through to his side.
The stench immediately hits his nostrils, and for a moment it's as if he can't breathe, his senses overwhelmed by the putrid scent, vaguely reminiscent of some of his battlefields. His diminutive form is soon enough soaked in the stream of foul-smelling yellow liquid, bursting forth from the browbeater's unwashed loins.
Fully relieving himself, the deviant chuckles at his handiwork before yanking his trousers back up, "Ugh, that one was stewing for a while all right. Well, see you later, little shit."
Another sound of amusement later, he relaxedly struts away, a whistle on his lips. Behind him, Byleth is splayed unmoving on the ground, a single tear unknowingly trailing down his skin as he vacantly contemplates how things came to this point, his memories appearing so vividly it's as if he's relieving them.
Despite not being the best at keeping track of time, it was definitely over a year ago when everything changed. That was when he began to notice a marked shift in the attitudes of those around him.
He's come to recognize that he was always seen as rather strange due to his anti-social behavior and emotionless demeanor, but killing those two men on that night, it started something.
After that consequential occurrence, he would occasionally hear some of his father's mercenaries call him names or whisper about him in corners. At first, he seldom noticed it, but it slowly became something that was increasingly apparent.
He didn't understand exactly what was happening or why they were doing it, not back then, but the more he was exposed to it the more it began to affect him. However, in spite of the growing negativity in both himself and others, he didn't tell Zane or his father what was happening.
A month following the beginning of the whispering and verbal abuse, the two main offenders made their first appearance before him. At that juncture, they were relatively new members of the New Dawn Mercenaries, having joined not long after the deprecation surrounding him had started.
Despite their confrontation also being their first interaction with him, he recognized them easily enough since he commonly saw them joining in with the others in his verbal torment.
YOU ARE READING
The Fell Star's Return
FanficA young boy with a strange demeanor suddenly finds himself dealing with a beautiful green haired girl stuck in his mind. She doesn't remember much of anything, and loves to sleep, however it's clear that there is a deep connection between the two of...
