It was that time of year again. That season. That particular month.

—

6 years ago…..

When everything fell apart for him. His world was shattered, his reason for living, snuffed out like an unneeded candle. That life gone in a puff of smoke. One minute the boy was but twenty feet from him, still alive and as ecstatic as his brother. The next, dead on the ground, as dead as all the other bodies of villagers that littered the surrounding area like discarded rag dolls.

Jim's mind shut down as he sobbed into the grimy fabric that covered Luca's now limp shoulder. He couldn't think of anything but the agony ripping through his chest at that very moment. He'd sworn to protect his brother at all costs, even if all the villagers that made them miserable were dead. Dead, good and proper, just like he'd wanted.

But at what cost? His brother joined the body count of casualties from the fire that still ravaged the village at this very moment. So what was Jim to do now? The shoddy village he'd called 'home' his entire life was now on its way to complete destruction; the fire would consume everything if it were left to burn, so where would he even go? He was eight, it wasn't as if he had the means to go wherever he felt like, quite the opposite in fact.

It took Jim a full thirty minutes to stop the sobs from wracking his body. His throat dry from the screams of "Don't leave me alone!", his eyes red and burning from all the tears that would soak through more than a few handkerchiefs, and his arms tired from holding up his limp brother for the extended period of time. Setting his brother gently back on the ground, Jim had no idea what to even do with the body. Did he just leave him here, or. . .?

After some time of deliberation, Jim decided there was nothing he could do but give his brother the best possible farewell he could manage. He couldn't stay in this place, not with all the corpses of the villagers that'd be decomposing before long, his brother included, much as the thought disgusted him.

Bluebells. Bluebells was something of significance to both brothers. The garden on the outskirts of the village used to be filled with a field of nothing but them. The many hours the boys would spend running through the field, snatching up random handfuls of flowers as they went, sticking the stems through their unbrushed locks and pretending they were girls. Hours that would never happen again.

He would leave his brother with more bluebells than he knew what to do with, even in death. The field that they used to play in had next to no flowers left, but that didn't deter Jim from picking any that he could find. He picked that field bare, walking back to where his brother's body laid in a mourning silence. In a motion that would greatly resemble a robot, Jim spread the flowers all around his brother, pushing some into his hands, pushing some into his hair, and leaving a few by his head. It was pitiful that this was all he could do to honor his brother, but that's just it; it was all he could do.

And as soon as he was done, Jim ran from where his brother would lay forever, ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. He couldn't stand the sight of it, he had to get away from this place. With Luca dead, there was nothing tying him to this area anymore, even if he didn't have anywhere else to go. He just had to get away.

2 years later….

It was no better for Jim now than it was two years ago. His life was still as in shambles as it was when Luca was alive. The only difference now was Jim was truly on his own. No one he could call family, let alone a friend. The next town over treated him no better than the last place he lived in did. He had to scrounge for food, still resorting to stealing a good majority of the time, getting stones thrown at him, until it got to the point where he had to wander to the next town before he got into even more trouble.

3 years later…

Jim hadn't been paying much attention the day he was kidnapped and taken to the Earl Trancy's estate. He hadn't slept well the night before (but then again, when was the boy ever graced with what could be considered a 'good' night's sleep?), so his back was hunched over, his arms swinging listlessly at his side. His hair was scraggly and unkempt, sticking up every which way possible. Dirt lining his cheeks, dirt everywhere, even underneath his bitten down fingernails.

The noise of the oncoming wagon being pulled by horses hit his ears, but elicited no reaction from the boy; what were the chances it had anything to do with him anyway? He was a nobody, an orphan with a shitty past, an awful present, and a very bleak future if things kept going the way they were. Frankly it was a wonder that the now twelve year old was still alive.

The sound of heavy footsteps hit the earth as two adult men jumped out and approached Jim without hesitation, grabbing him by both his arms and all but dragging him back to the wagon. Of course Jim put up a fight, who wouldn't? He didn't know what these men wanted from him, and it obviously wasn't something good if they were as forceful with him as they were. During the struggle, Jim's gaze went up to where they were taking him to, and he was met with a sight he didn't know what to make of. He wasn't the only boy here, far from it. The other adolescents shifted listlessly when the men lifted Jim up over the side effortlessly and dropped him down onto the bench with a dull 'thunk'.

"You're coming with us, and don't even think about running. The Queen's Spider has no use for you if you're dead."

It wasn't as if Jim had anywhere to go, at least he had an apparent purpose now. All he could do was lean his back against the uncomfortable wood of the wagon railing as the vehicle lurched forward, on the same path Jim had been walking on alone not a few moments ago.

Little did he know the horrid purpose the 'Queen's Spider' actually had for him as well as his new companions. What unimaginable things he'd be forced to do, but also the opportunity it would present to him later. A chance to get a home that had every luxury imaginable, every accommodation the boy could possibly want. All he had to do was gain this man's favor.

By telling a little white lie.

—

Present time…

Alois jolted upright as the sound of a bird squawking went right past his bedroom window, jostling him from his mental stupor.

He looked at the sheets that had a thread number higher than he could possibly count, then to the armoire that housed more clothes than he knew what to do with, then to the door that lead to the expansive manor that have belonged to Trancy's for generations.

The manor that was all his, or was believed to be his. He actually had no right or claim to any of this, but the old man didn't need to know that, nor would he ever. He was dead after all.

But despite what he had to do to gain any of this, who he had to deceive and manipulate to obtain all this wealth and power, meant nothing, because he wouldn't have had any of it had it been for one thing.

Luca's death. Venegeance. Nothing else mattered. He had Claude, he had his target in sight, he had his goal in mind. And he wouldn't stop until he did it.