The fields of la fauchereve have been alive for centuries, known for the fields of forget me not, otherwise called 'ghost lights' by the locals. As folklore goes, if a fortunate soul wandered here, they are touched by fate and bound to fall in love with the second person their eyes meet upon. Misfortune strikes on a poor unfortunate soul who has the same color of the ghost lights in their eyes, though it is never said what kind of misfortune, for fear of bad luck. But Alice Veneziano doesn't have eyes of the ghost lights nor is she looking for love. She looks for solace in the field of ghost lights, away to hide from the things that go bump in the night. Especially the ones looking for harm. The things in the night are the ones that love to harm Alice.
Strands of long brown hair touched her knees as she collapsed into the ghost lights. Little spigots from her doe brown eyes started to flow as she reached for air with her heaving lungs. The fields are a great distance to reach, but Alice had the stamina and she would climb mountains if it meant hiding here. Alice's head was throbbing, from the rocks thrown by the things lurking in the night. "They will not find me here," she imagined. The things in the dark could not hurt her with their menacing voices. Not in this field of ghost lights will anyone hear her sobs.
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After Mass ended, it was his favorite place to admire the flowers and contemplate on the wonders God has created, but he also praises the unseen wonders of science for the beautiful blue the flowers produce. A gentle smile of an old man at peace was slowly painted on the young boy's face until he heard the sobbing of a cherub nearby. He followed the sound through the field of ghost lights until he came upon a girl same year as he, dressed in emerald in the sea of blue. Her face covered with her tiny hands to muffle the sobs and tears falling from her eyes. What has made her tragic on a beautiful night as this? Only one way to find out. He approached her quietly, and when his shadowed consumed hers, that is when he began his investigation.
"H-Hey, why are you crying?", his booming pre-pubescent voice inquired. Though he is a peaceful child from the Vatican city, he is always known for being an intimidating child in a switch of a lightbulb. The girl found that out the hard way. With a booming voice came a high shriek and sent her hiding in the ghost lights, whimpering with fear. He panicked, kneeling beside her, "No please, I am so sorry!" He cried, "Please don't cry!"
She continued trembling but lifted her head ever so slightly. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying and she sniffled to keep the snot from coming out every few seconds. The boy felt sorrow, even pity for them both. She was clearly scared and crying, while he is only making it worse. He knelt beside her and scavenged the inside of his pockets looking for something to ease the situation for them both, mostly for her. After a few hasty seconds, he produced a white handkerchief intricately laced with light pastel roses. On it was the initials 'R.M' engraved in golden thread. Hesitantly, the girl lifted her trembling head to meet his gaze.
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A boy with light golden hair kept under a black hat shown in the moonlight. He appeared to be dressed in black, including a black cloak. He had the eyes of the ghost lights, but the hue of the blue seemed as deep as the oceans. So much kindness in those eyes, Alice thought. Noticing the outstretched offer of a cloth handkerchief. Alice didn't want to blow her nose into it, seeing as it would be not only gross but rude. She thought it would be too much to do with a stranger she just met. Instead, she slowly accepted the handkerchief from him and used it wipe her tears. "Thank you so much," She quietly replied. It was quiet only for the young stranger to hear. Her voice was soft but it carried to his ears, and he nodded in response.
"You are welcome, miss…?" he trailed off inquiring her name.
After Handing his handkerchief back to him, "O-oh, my name is Alice," she answered nervously still. Traces of north Italian dialect rang in her voice, soft and feminine but capable of shouting great lengths if needed. The boy, of unknown origin and of action, nodded and smiled, "That quite a lovely name Alice, my name is-
"Hey look! ZER IS ZE LOZER!"
The boy was interrupted by another pre-pubescent voice, albeit male and questionably shrilly. Alice's heart stopped as she faced the source of the voice.
A young boy around Alice's age as well, hair white as snow and eyes red as deceiving blood stared back at hers. Accompanying him were two others, one identical to her, except for short hair, the one she still calls brother, and a pre-teen, long blonde hair and violet eyes behind the devil-eyed leader. These little monsters love to torment and tease her, whether it be for affection or pure malicious intent, it is often hard to tell as they blur the lines. Either way, it hurts all the same. They slowly crept towards the field, closing the distance, intending to do harm once again, along with the lines of the boogeyman's dirty work.
As the boys crept towards Alice the boy stepped towards them like a lioness protecting her cub. The devil eyes boy shouted to his lackeys, "OH, WELL LOOK WHO'S ZIS! A pipsqueak who wants to be a knight to this irrefutable brat?"
His words were like poison. They kept weakening her to the point of collapse. She was falling to her knees, ready to burst into tears once again. However, the boy in black did not falter away from her. He stood his ground and bellowed like thunder, "LEAVE HER ALONE!"