This is a story from a long time ago.

There once was a street rat, one who could barely gather scraps to survive day by day. His pure white hair was dirtied to the point it nearly looked brown. His fair white skin, covered in dirt and blood (it was unknown whether it was his own or he murdered someone – some people speculated that it was both), and his shining grey eyes, shifting around in distrust or perhaps in search of his next victim.

There once was also a noble, within a rather common merchant family. His long purple hair, soft and silky and obviously well taken care of, caused many a girl, even the wealthier ones, to swoon in awe (of course, they weren't cradle robbers so they impatiently waited for the day he turned fifteen in two more years – meanwhile, they can appreciate the eye candy he provided). His skin, soft to the touch and never once bearing a blemish, and his intelligent gold eyes, watching the waves of the world and observing everything around him. As such, he managed to meet the street rat.

"Now now, stealing isn't any good." This street rat jumped in surprise, nearly losing his grasp on the exotic purple fruit he had grabbed from the nearby stand. The little kid glanced between the stall manager (who was busy sucking up to some blond kid) and the purple haired boy before dashing to the side and running down the alley. The boy blinked a bit before chuckling at the hasty retreat. So marked their first meeting.

Their second meeting was more purposeful on the noble's side. He hung around that same stall, pretending to be showcasing his family's wares to any female who passed by. Simply following the waves of the crowds within the Merchants' Corner in hopes of noticing a small dirty hand grabbing food or shifting nervous grey eyes. It was fast approaching a month before the noble saw the rat.

Making his way easily through the crowd as he followed the small boy, he noticed the kid seemed to be grabbing a single food item from each stall and hiding it in his tattered poncho before the merchant noticed his missing item or the thieving hand. Each movement the small boy made seemed to be calculated and measured, as if he also read the waves that the noble boy took for granted.

Almost suddenly, the boy paused, glanced around, then ran off into an alleyway that the nobleboy knew to end in a wall. So the boy ran forward to see what the rat was doing only to barely catch him climbing up the way and disappearing over the edge of the roof. The nobleboy followed soon after, using what he saw as the best route only. When he made it to the roof, the little boy was eating half of a loaf of bread that he had stolen from one of the first stalls after the nobleboy had seen him.

Leaning against a post not too far away from where the dirty boy sat devouring the bread, staring at the back of the boy's head. "My, my." The boy jumped and turned in a defensive position, obviously unwilling to part with his large haul. The nobleboy raised his hands up peacefully before crossing them comfortably over his chest. "I thought I said before that stealing was bad." The boy relaxed his defensive stance slightly, still staring warily at the nobleboy. He muttered something before clamming up and looking away in irritation. "What was that? I don't believe I heard you."

The boy narrowed his eyes before leaning back in a relaxed position and placing his thumbs in his pockets. "You said that it wasn't good, dumbass. You never said anything about it being fucking bad." The nobleboy blinked a few times before grinning. So the boy had quite the mouth on him. Maybe that was him acting tough, even though he was so small?

"Is that so? I could've sworn I said it was bad. After all, you were stealing from that one pig merchant and he's been known to torture and humiliate thieves then sell them as slaves – after he's caught them of course." The nobleboy simply watched as the rat seemed to realize what he barely escaped before turning his head away stubbornly.

"Of course I wasn't caught, I'm the best fucking thief around." The dirty boy seemed prepared to go into a speech about how great he was before he pulled back into himself and watched the nobleboy move forward. For some reason it made him smile to see the dirty rat look more like a stray kitten.

"Wouldn't you rather live better than this?" The dirty boy snorted, crossing his arms as well.

"Who would really want to live like this in this shithole?"

Their next, and third, meeting was to be many years in the future, when both had grown from the awkward stages of boyhood.

The nobleboy, now caught up in his father's business, had grown into a splendid young man. He charmed every girl around him just by giving them a passing glance. He had learnt to speak and write three different languages and was in the midst of learning a fourth. His hair, which was already long and silky, now extended far past his hips and now lay in a messier style – but, of course, it was still the main subject of women's fantasies to run their fingers through while in the middle of a far more intimate activity. His eyes, once shining in childish innocence, now knew the true horrors of the money world yet also held a light of mischievousness. Of course, knowing that, he was also climbing his way through the world. Many people were thinking that he was aiming for a certain goal with how ruthlessly he held a near monopoly on trade and mercantilism.

And the dirty little rat had blossomed into a deadly flower.

The day they met for the third time was marked with misfortune within the royal family and an attempted assassination.

…

So, uh… allow me to apologize right now, the only time I will be allowed to update is when my teacher allows me free reign of my computer in 3D Animation as my stupid computer crashed about two or three months ago… Stupid as hell but hey, I'll just post this so he doesn't realize what I'm actually doing. Just know that if you're following any of my other stories, I can't update until I rewrite my planned out chapters which will be impossible outside of the short amount of time I have within the school.

Sorry,

Nightmare