In the midst of a battle, the sound of angry men and swords is the typical music, though the sound of early mourners and screams are often heard to among friends. But one sound was neither the sound of battle nor mourning, but the sound of a baby. The sound of its cries died with the wind and swords, and was not heard by any nearby soldiers. Though for the man watching the baby this was a blessing. The brunette was in a panicked frenzy. Doing his best to try and calm the child. His green eyes clouded with fear. He was so close to enemy soldiers. Heard by them he knew he would not be spared, and depending on the amount of mercy the soldiers felt, the baby too could be killed. The man tried everything, from water to cuddles. The baby could not be satisfied. One might ask as to why the baby was with him in the first place.
The baby was the offspring of a beautiful woman, her braided dark hair grew long, and her hazel eyes bright with innocence and youthfulness. She was a young mother of two boys. The father of the children had passed from illness before their birth; her only help was from her father. She had named the boys, Feliciano and Romano Vargas. Romano's eyes were the same hazel has his mother's and the small fluff that grew on his head was the beautiful brunette his father had, but only a few weeks after their birth had their small village been set ablaze, killing most, including the Vargas family.
Though one tiny glimmer of hope was left for the town, in a basket cried a baby. It cried for its mother, its grandfather, it cried for a voice. It was hungry and scared. The baby had been brought out by its mother as the house was ablaze, after she had brought him safely outside she ran back into the house only to never return. Though his loneliness was soon cured by the sound of voices, crying even louder he called out to the voices, hoping someone would hear him.
"Hold on I think I hear something...I'll be right back!" Sounded a voice and rapid footprints, the thought of finally being held and feed was all too good and the babies cries continued until its hazel eyes came into contact with bright green ones.
"Hello little one, are you scared? You don't need to be. I bet you're hungry, you are aren't you? Poor thing." The cheerful note in the man's voice fell towards the end replacing his warm smile with a sad sympathetic on. Antonio had learned how to hold and care for children at a young age and he hoped to one day have his own children. He slowly looked at the remains of a probably beautiful home. It could have been the baby's home. The baby could have had a mother, father, maybe even siblings. It was sad to think the child would never see them again, or even remember who they were. The memories if his family would more than likely die as he grew. With a sigh Antonio turned back towards his fellow soldier with a sad smile still on his face.
"It seems there was a survivor after all." He murmured as he got closer to the men, each of them wanting to see the child out of curiosity. Though Antonio knew he wouldn't be able to keep the child, he'd have to drop it off at the first town they encountered.
Though Antonio never thought this would happen. He never knew he'd be risking the child's life like this.
"Please, please stop! I'm begging you if you don't stop crying we could be killed little one." Antonio finally cried his mistake. Turning around Antonio noticed two soldiers, both looked confused for a second, but knew that their only duty was to defeat enemy soldiers, the baby could wait. And they waited no time closing in on Antonio, who unsheathed his sword and readied himself, and turned towards the baby with a sincere smile.
"Don't worry, I'll protect you."
Antonio never expected this, though he had managed to make it. He had defeated the two soldiers. Of course he had, he was very skilled in sword fighting. But he hadn't gone without damage. He collapsed onto his knees and looked down at his chest. He had been stabbed, and he knew he didn't have much time left before he bled to death. And added to the wound on his chest his body was covered in various places but cuts and bruises. There would be no way Antonio would make it out alive. The medic was too far away and neither his legs nor voice seemed to work.
Accepting his death Antonio finally welcomed the ground. Head spinning he looked towards a special spot. He had no choice but to put the baby down when he had to fight. And once again Antonio looked at the baby with a sad smile, finally reading the words on the child's blanket.
"Romano. That's a nice name.' Antonio thought silently to himself, urging himself towards the child. He had to keep him hidden. If the enemy got their hands on him Antonio had no idea what his fate would be. Though Antonio could hope that if his friends found his body, they'd be able to give the child a better fate.
Placing a hand on the baby Antonio began to sing in his head. He had always wanted a child. Maybe this was fate. Maybe fate knew he had little time on earth and gave him Romano as a parting gift. A quick taste if what it would have been like being a father-minus the sword fighting and death-it was nice. It felt nice knowing that something so little and so precious depended on him, and Antonio wouldn't let him down. Even in death he'd protect Romano.
"Papa." The baby murmured the words as a small hand touched Antonio's nose. He knew tears covered his face. But it didn't matter now. Right now all that mattered was Romano.
"Goodnight Romano."
The words were slurred. But the baby understood them perfectly. But he also knew one only said such words at night, and it was clearly still day.
"Papa." The baby tried again. He knew such words normally brought a smile to the Man's face. But now his face remained the same. And as time went by the man grew colder.
"Papa." The baby tried again though this time his voice held something in it. Whether it was worry or grief the baby itself wasn't sure.
But the man never woke up.
