Oneshots Of Total Randomness

Who He Was

 To say Liam Aberdeen resident of Uppercity Xenon was a wallflower would be a stretch. The terms loner, taciturn and antisocial did not fit quite well with him either. At the age of eighteen he was tall with a height of 6"4 which wasn't unnatural for a boy his age. He was a lean, pale skinned male with long, flowing silver hair -courtesy of his noble lineage- and dull grey eyes. He had a face that still had some baby fat on it, pursed pink lips and a straight roman nose which didn't diminish his beauty in the slightest. That unassuming, innocent look was the factor that  threw the aristocrats and peasants off. As they say, the face of an angel but the actions of a demon. 

What added to that belief were his cold eyes, piercing gaze and that ever present gloomy shadow that seemed to hover around his frame, enclosed for a better word. His black shirt, pants and warrior boots never made it any easier to approach him and that butterfly knife at his side was just plain scary. No wonder he was the main protagonist of horror stories parents told their children when they didn't want them to wander off.  Despite all of this he still drew the attention of the crowd when he walked into the room. It was mostly worse than good because of the constant rumours that seemed to love to follow him. I suppose that is how he earned the moniker "Gossips number one best friend." Though that didn't phase him in the least. Or did it? I wouldn't be able to tell because of that constant poker face he has on. 

I pride myself on being a good judge of others by reading their facial expression but up until this day I have yet to discover his tells. Not one stray emotion has ever leaked. He always got jeers and insults thrown his way when he walked, although most of them were when he was far away for no one was brave enough to go against a descendant of the Aberdeen family. 

The Aberdeen's were a family with noble blood coursing through their veins for hundreds of years. The family started 700 years ago when warrior, Trojan Aberdeen, was appointed the title of Baron. They gradually grew in status due to the outstanding warriors they produced during the years. Over time the Aberdeen family was known as the 'home of warriors'. This family of warriors was only second to the royal family. At twelve years old they all vowed their eternal loyalty to the Empire and the Empire only. Not the Emperor but the country. Liam's father, Andrés Aberdeen was the most powerful warrior of his time, earning the title of Commander of the Emperor's Army. 

When Liam looked into the mirror he never did see what his mother saw. He never saw the boy with bright eyes and a warm heart. On the contrary he saw a boy with dull eyes, one whose heart had gone cold with the passage of time and a ruined future. The only thing he had going for him was his strength in swordsmanship and even then he had a weakness. When he was born he was told that his Achilles Heel was his unwavering loyalty to his friends, family and those he swore to protect. It was quite a funny weakness for he didn't have a family anymore and he never had friends either, not that anyone wanted to be his friend in the first place.

The people his age would never want to associate themselves with a ruffian such as himself. He never had enough experience with others or the emotional capacity to understand why. They were all pure-breed nobles of high standing- although his family hardly counted since his grandparents disowned them after his father married his mother-  and they probably shared the same interests as well. But if he was being honest he was always an anomaly. The unwanted freak, the eyesore, the no good bastard of Andrés and Silvania Aberdeen. 

But it wasn't always like this. Liam used to be a happy kid, candidate of many for the title of 'Aquavious most promising young lord' but that was before his father and three brothers passed away in battle. 

He was only eight at that time. 

"They were courageous even in the face of death" the messenger had said before bidding them farewell.