𝒞𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓊𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝒹

(𝟷) 𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚍, 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎

If there was one thing Callum hated in this cruel world, it was death. Where the fondest of memories and the stories of others simply disappear, as a soul escapes the limits of the human body.

————

"You will be deemed Count after the mourning period." The old lawyer says, staring at Callum. Old people had no compassion, Callum realised. It was like the lawyer wasn't talking about a man, a dead man, who was someone's son and brother. Callum's brother.

It suddenly hit Callum that Arthur was really gone. Not off somewhere fighting a war like he was used to, but lifeless under the ground. He didn't like the thought of it. Callum scoffed, surprising the lawyer. It was the first reaction he'd had all this time. 

"What..." Callum started, before thinking of his word choice.

"What if I do not want to inherit the position of Count?" He contemplated.

The old man choked on his saliva, spitting it all over the brand new table. "Hah! A funny lad you are. I never knew the Ghost had a funny bone!" He bellowed, slapping his knee.

The Ghost was a nickname Callum had had for the past twenty years, or, since he was born really. There was no word in this world for such a rare condition, but Callum had once heard someone call it 'Albinism'.

When Callum was a child, he was ridiculed for his white hair and red eyes, but now, Callum sometimes noticed noble women gushing over his looks, something they would find 'exotic'. He didn't understand why people's opinions on him had changed just because he had grown older.

But back to the current topic.

"I'm really not joking, Mr. Shaw." Callum replied. It was then that the lawyer stopped all notions of friendliness.

"Now, Lord Callum, you mustn't say such things. Even if you don't want to inherit your brothers position, it is for the sake of the Empire. You must let go of such childish thoughts. After all, selfishness is not the quality of a nobleman, much less the future Count di Amate." Mr. Shaw commented, his expression showing a little disgust. 

How weird it must be for him to see a man who could have anything he wanted try to give up his position. 

But Callum didn't want such things. He wanted his brother back.

Callum tapped his watch impatiently. "Thank you for your time Mr. Shaw, but I think I would like to go rest in my chambers."

He left without saying goodbye to the lawyer, leaving the old man wondering about what happened to people's manners.

Callum power-walked to his room, ignoring bystanders attempts to speak to him. He didn't even know why there were so many strangers in his home, but it wasn't important right now.

Then-

Ouch.

Callum hadn't stopped to realise his doors were closed. Damn, it was common sense. 

He hoped no one had seen such a clumsy display. It was quite stupid to walk right into the door.

————

Callum sat on the wooden floors, even though his bed was right there. Sometimes, the floor gave more comfort than the bed could. 

Now, Callum di Amate was the only living descendant of the di Amate family line. Callum had no other relatives other than immediate family in the first place, but now even they were gone.

His mother.

His father.

And the newest edition to the family grave, 

his brother.

Callum wasn't particularly close with his parents when they were alive, with his mother a successful businesswoman and his father ailing in bed. 

The only person he truly cared about, the one that was always there for him, was his brother Arthur.

Or at-least until Arthur had shut Callum out a few years ago.

Callum didn't know why Arthur had suddenly disliked him. One moment, the two were studying potions together, and the next, Callum was begging Arthur to open the door whilst Arthur had locked his little brother in his room.

Since then, all attempts to make conversation with Arthur was shut down, and it became worse when Arthur had left for the military academy five years ago. He never came back.

For the first time in five years, Callum had seen Arthur. But Arthur was lying in a coffin with a suit on.

Hah, Arthur didn't even like suits.

How ironic.

But...

Even after all the times Arthur tried to ignore him, Callum still loved his older brother. 

And now more than anything, Callum was desperate.

Desperate for what? He didn't know. But there was something itching in his heart, telling him,

"Save him. Save him. Save him. 

Save the older brother who cherished you when no one else did."

It was a useless feeling when Arthur was already dead.

There was nothing Callum could do to change it.

So why...

Why was he sobbing on the floor, asking for another chance?

Why was he uttering such useless things?

"Lord, give me one more chance." He repeated, until he could no longer speak.

Perhaps he was asking a greater being, something no one could ever imagine.

As Callum lay on the floor, reminiscing of the better times, he thought maybe this could be the end. 

It was a quiet night, where the whispers of the wind could be heard, and it's gentle melody lulled it's people to sleep. 

Even though he tried to sleep, there was something at the back of his mind that he had forgotten.

Something so important, that he wouldn't dare sleep until he remembered.

After minutes of trying to figure it out, a name popped into his head.

Sage Grimm.

Callum's salvation.

Arthur's damnation.

————

As Callum lay asleep on the wooden floor, a greater being appears.

They look at the boy, whose tears had not yet dried. 

No matter how much tomfoolery humans had been apart of, the being couldn't deny the boys wish.

The being looked up at the ceiling, as if pondering. before looking back down at the sleeping boy.

"Your wish will be granted, boy."

The being dissipates against the chorus of the wind.