A/N- Okay guys, so just a warning. This chapter contains some incredibly graphic material. If you aren't ok with that, skip it.

1234

"I wish you had of let me drown the damn brat." The voices outside of twelve year old Sabine's door were growing louder, causing the sickly boy to wince, covering his ears. Father always said such awful things, and it scared the boy.

Father always spoke of killing him. It never mattered how hard the child pushed himself, far past his limits, the man was never pleased. Even Sabine's older siblings were cruel to him. They called him such awful names. Devil, curse, demon.

He wasn't any of those! He wasn't!

Sabine had been born an albino, something that his father had cursed with fear upon seeing the silver locks and crimson eyes of the child, falling to his knees and asking why the Gods were punishing him so, what had he done?

Father had tried to rid himself of the newborn, only hours old, carrying him to the creek near their home, with the full intent of throwing the boy into the river. They had older children, healthy children. They could do without this one.

But mother had grabbed his arm desperately, taking the child and cradling it to her breast. He simply didn't understand, she protested. This was herchild. She had carried him, she had bore him. And she loved him.

It took hours of fighting, but finally, her wish had been granted. She'd been told the boy would never be a real part of the family. He would never be his fathers son. Even still, she ignored that, and lovingly named her youngest Sabine, cradling him in her arms.

And she had loved him dearly. She had been the only one to love him.

He was sickly as a child, his condition causing him to be weak, and there was the constant fear of going blind. He didn't mind though. Mother kept him in bed, but she spent time with him enough that he didn't get lonely, telling him stories and singing him songs. She was protecting him, she would whisper, stroking over his pale face. No one else understood, and they would try to hurt him, she warned, so it was best if he stayed here, with her. Where she could protect him from his father, and the villagers, and anyone else who sought to harm her youngest.

"What has the child done to you!? He's done nothing! He's too ill to do anything!" Mother screamed back, and there was the sound of a slap filling the air, causing Sabine to silently weep. He hated when father hit mother, especially over him.

"Exactly! He's a useless mouth to feed! Why do we keep him around?" Had come the harsh reply. Sabine couldn't bear to listen to anymore. Forcing himself out of bed and onto his feet, he crept to the large window, pulling his small fragile body out of it. He was tired of being confined to bed, of being trapped indoors, of hearing the screams and the threats. He wanted to see the outside.

And so the boy, looking no more than eight despite being twelve in age, set off towards the forest that surrounded the village. The sun was painful on his eyes, but once he hit the shade of the forest, the pain dissipated and a bright smile of excitement crossed his face. He'd never seen the outside before, and it was so big and amazing to the child, as he ran through the trees, laughter falling from his lips, picking flowers and chasing butterflies.

He was so distracted with his amazing new finds that he didn't hear the men approaching, creeping up on horseback. They wore long white robes, emblazoned with black crosses, yet Sabine knew not who they were. But their minds were far from peaceful thoughts. No, these were members of the Teutonic Order, and seeing the pale skinned, crimson eyed boy, they grew furious, appearing at once and grabbing the child, who kicked and screamed desperately, fear echoing from his lungs.

"Devil Child!" They spat at the terrified child, who struggled to get away as they beat him, much the way Father often did. "Where have you come from, spawn!?"

But the boy didn't reply, screaming to be released. Finally, with one quick kick, he made a break for it, running through the trees. Re-mounting their horses, the knights followed the child, who darted and dove through the shrubbery, keeping him safely ahead of them. One benefit to being so small, he thought sadly. He didn't look back. He couldn't. Instead, he moved on pure adrenaline, on fear, continuing to run until he was back to the village, back to his home. He slid back through the window and into his bed, sobbing into his knees.

But the knights had not given up. It was not hard to spot the child as he darted into his home, and with quiet agreement, the holy knights set to their task.

"Oh you godless heathens!" One called out in a deep, booming voice, the villagers looking out of their homes in fright at the large strangers. "Your village is hereby condemned to burn for the harboring of a devil. May God have mercy on your souls." Even as he spoke, the others moved with torches, lighting the homes until the village glowed orange.

Sabine first heard the screams as they came from mother herself, getting out of bed, running to where his family was watching in fear at the flames that crept up the walls.

"You!" Father snarled, a heavy fist full of hatred connecting with the boys face, knocking him off his feet, a sharp kick to his ribs following. "You are the one who has condemned us to die! Do you see what your existence has done!?" With that, he tried to comfort his family, cradling his wife and other children to him, whispering words of hope, that they would be with their ancestors soon. That all would be well. To close their eyes, and try not to scream.

Swearing himself not to cry, Sabine pulled himself to the corner, his knees to his chest, ignoring the blood on his face and the pain in his chest. It didn't matter much now, did it? He was going to die. Mother… Mother was going to die because of him. Why did it have to be like this? Was he truly a devil? Did the Gods hate him so?

All he had wanted was to be loved. For someone to hold his hand when he was scared. To kiss his head and tell him it would be alright. All he wanted was to know the outside. More than anything, Sabine had ached for attention from his father, for love. For the empty ache inside of his chest to be filled.

But all it ever did was grow. With Fathers threats of death, of telling him how he was the cause of suffering for his family.

And then with being treated as though he wasn't there at all. That had been far worse. He could handle the beatings. He could handle the words. But he couldn't bear when his father and siblings acted as though they saw right through him. He'd tried hard. To be obedient, to be worth attention. But none had been given, instead, it'd made him get in even more trouble.

And even now, as the flames crept closer, the boy was alone. He had no family- they were a family without him. Now he had not even Mother to comfort him. And still, he didn't cry. Not as smoke filled his lungs. Not as he closed his eyes so he didn't see his family burn. Not as the searing pain lapped at his skin. His screams were silent, held inside in one last attempt to make father proud- he would not burden father with his screams. Mothers and his siblings mattered more.

And so, the little one gave into the flames, one last terrified breath falling from his lips as the flames swallowed him whole.