How To Create a Villain

Chapter 1: 'A Game, a Prophecy, and a Friendship'

How to Create a Villain

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The child smiled as he ran past the tall grass blades. They were almost as tall as him, the perfect place to hide. All anyone could hear was a voice counting and youthful laughter echoing through the fields.

Getting to his knees, the raven haired boy stayed perfectly silent, waiting until he was found.

"Ten. Ready or not here I come." An older voice called out, not far away. The older man definitely wouldn't find the boy this time. The child would win this round.

There was absolute silence in the perfectly grown field. The boy's eyes matched the grassy green of the undergrowth. They darted to the beautiful, blue sky, and he soon forgot about the game he was playing. After a few moments, the grown man found the child lying on his back, staring at the clouds.

"There you are." His father stated, smiling slightly when finding the boy. Algarick got down to the ground and lay on his back next to his son. The seven year old smiled back with an almost charming grin he had gotten from his father. Algarick was the chief of the Treacherous tribe ever since his father, Thugheart, died in battle.

Trying to make the tribe better was an overwhelming experience when everyone thought violence was the answer. His son, Alvin, was the only thing that continued to make him the slightest bit happy. Thugheart had betrayed his family and defied the laws of The Wilderwest. In doing so, Thugheart and his followers were ordered out of the kingdom, to live their lives as outcasts. Algarick, however, decided to get the tribe within code, and to right the wrongs of his father.

Alvin looked back up to the sky and finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Father, do you think you might find time to teach me Dragonese, like you said you would?" he asked quietly. The boy loved dragons, in fact they were his favorite subject to talk about. He'd scribble notes and pictures down by the dozens, when he went dragon watching. The only problem was, dragons seemed to dislike him. They seemed to know what kind of person he'd be when he grew up.

Alvin thought maybe if he could speak to them, the dragons would enjoy his company more.

"Of course, Alvin." Algarick smiled at his son, admirably. Learning languages was also one of Alvin's pastimes. The child smiled cheerfully at the thought of speaking to the beasts. Maybe tomorrow they'd have time, in the meantime the boy watched as the clouds went by.

~

Silence.

That's all that could be heard...

And that's how the witch liked it.

No irritating husbands or cheerful small boys in the house, just simply the witch and her prophecies.

Her long, iron fingernails tapped, slowly, on the table as she scanned the prophecies, memorizing every detail...

~

"Alvin!!" The shriek echoed throughout the whole house and rattled the ears of the poor boy that was upstairs.

"Coming, Momma." The small, frail voice answered, even though could not have been heard.

"Is something wrong?" He asked once reaching the bottom of the stairs.

"Everything's wrong, Alvin." Excellinor growled under her breath in response.

"What do you mean-"

"Well just look at you." Exillinor cut him off and turned her eyes toward her son, with acute dislike.

The child winced slightly and looked to the floor. He understood his mother wanted someone more villainous, someone tougher, and stronger.