Author's note: Just wanted to leave a quick note here before we get things on the road. So, I don't know where this is going, the story I mean. I have another story I have commitments to, but when the idea of this one came to mind, I couldn't ignore it. So basically, the continuation of the story will revolve around its success, that's not to sound greedy or unappreciative, but I want to work on what the most fun thing is for not only me, but everyone that reads my stuff, so… without further adieu, enjoy… oh wait, another note. This chapter will be shorter, but my average chapter length is 5k+ words, so expect that. Okokok, enjoy, for real this time.

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The Measure of a Man

Part One

Routine

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A brief message:

How is one to measure a man? By his accomplishments? By his family? By his material possessions? The question riddles men even today. Well, maybe it isn't so simple. Maybe a man isn't measured by one abstract thing. Maybe a man is truly measured by how far he would go in order to do right.

The only regrettable part of that man's life would be the end, but the man would never regret giving what he did in order to do right.

…

The day was only through half of its cycle, and already, the people of the village were on edge. It was unusual for those ravenous creatures to hold such patience. Their weekly attack had not yet come, and due to this fact, the people were extremely careful.

Marco Diaz was no exception. His family was used to these attacks. They had a routine. It was very simple. The monsters began their advance. The family of three would get to their home. They would block the door behind them, then hide in their hatch.

They had survived all of these years anyway. So what reason was there to stop the routine? Marco would argue that there wasn't one. And as the hours passed, the familiar feeling of dread came as well.

The town was still, the sun was nearing the horizon and the people stood to watch in the direction of the monsters' domain. Darkness hung over the forest that lay between the kingdom and the monster's habitat, just as it always had. And as per usual, there was an ominous air about the poorest area in the town, this is exactly where Marco resided. He and his family owned a modest piece of land, granted by the king long ago. His family had lived there for as long as he could remember and as long as his father could remember, and none were to complain about their conditions.

They had food on the table and they were still alive, even if their home felt as if it could fall apart if a soft breeze came through, it was still standing, and that was more than could be said about some people's homes.

The commons simply weren't a place that people made it out of easily. That was just the reality of the situation. And with the current Queen in power, there was little hope that anything would change. Moon was a strong leader, there was no doubt about that, but she didn't take risks, and for that reason, Marco knew that he would never make it out of this place.

This wasn't to say that he had any particular issue with the woman, but there was a certain cycle about the town, generationally speaking.

A man would be born, raised in the town, then find love, raise a son of his own, and die wishing that he could have done better for his family, as grim as it sounded. No, the royalty wasn't the problem, it was most definitely the monsters. The constant attacks crippled the town from the beginning, and no matter how hard anyone tried, without direct intervention from the Queen herself, the town would continue to be attacked, its people would continue to die, and the kingdom would be no better or worse for it.

So, with a situation so dire, the town was forced to rely on other methods to find happiness. And most often, this came from family.

"Marco," the boy's mother called out.

"Supper is ready," she finished in her sweet tone.

Marco sighed, slowly climbing down from the roof of his home, opening the door to his home, and stepping inside. He looked around and after his short inspection, he asked "Where is-"

Angelica cut in, "Your father? He's just next door, you know him. He told me that he was helping James, the Ordonia girl's father…"

Marco opened the door again, peeking in either direction, not seeing his father either way.

The boy finally closed the door behind him and walked into his home, inquiring, "What did they need help with? I was just over there earlier and Janna told me that they were doing well."

His mother turned and gave him a sly smile. There was only one reason for such a smile, Marco clarified, "That's gross mom. Janna is- A friend- I think."

"Alright, if you say so," Angie bantered as she pulled two wooden bowls of food from her cooking table and placed them on their dining table, sniffing the sweet air and smiling.

"Smell's good mom," Marco encouraged, pulling out a chair and sitting down as his mother did the same. Marco turned, expectantly staring at the door, but the silence persisted.

"Dad needs to hurry," Marco determined, voicing his anxiety for his father's absence.

Angelica laughed, joking "If you want to eat so badly, I'm sure he wouldn't mind you starting without him."

Marco couldn't find it in him to smile at the joke. Something just seemed off.

He scoffed, "I- It's just… why tonight? Everyone knows there is going to be an attack, I just don't want him to-"

His mother interrupted the thought, refusing to allow it to poison the air, "No, your father knows what he is doing. We just need to trust him," she asserted.

A pregnant silence followed. Neither would speak for a few moments. As much as the woman claimed otherwise, she was just as worried as her son.

And so, when a few minutes passed and he finally walked through the door, both of the two let out a sigh of relief. The man sighed as he walked through the door. He looked exhausted. His body language only served to support that theory as the man instantly crumbled to the ground, sprawling his arms across the floor as he lay in his typical corner, pulling their single blanket to his body and curling into the wall.

Marco got up from his chair and got to the routine, each added step making him feel more at ease. He tipped the cabinet over and leaned it against the door, placing his chair and another atop the pile as his mother tended to his father.

It was cruelly quiet after that, each person in the village aware of the incoming attack and each person doing their best to prepare for it. They listened to every single noise, every light breeze, every creaking door, every chirp of a cricket. Then, a crunch in the grass.

Then the silence was broken, a sound so insignificant, and yet so telling. They were on their feet immediately. Marco tip-toed to the candle that lit the room and put it out with a quick blow of air. His father, Rafael, moved for the hatch and pulled it open, waiting as his wife hopped in first, then his son. Only then did he follow behind them and pull the heavy wooden hatch over his head.

The pit was devoid of light and further devoid of space. Having been in this situation hundreds of times before, they were well used to it and they were able to control their breathing to a point that they were sure their existence was hidden. And sure enough, the traditional cries of war began to sound just outside their home. Marco clung to his mother, closing his eyes and trying not to imagine the worst.

Homes made of staw crashed and tumbled to the ground just beside their own, families panicking until their screams were cut short. Rafael jerked in place, feeling as though sitting around was not the correct way to go about things.

"I should go… they need help," he suggested, looking to his loving wife for approval, but the woman's eyes only held concern.

"Rafa, no- You can't- You'll die," she pled in her desperate tone. Marco could only watch, words failed him.

The man lifted the hatch slightly, peeking through. Their house was still intact, but with the hatch lifted, the sounds only became more vivid. He didn't need to say a word. He looked to his wife with the only argument being the screams that they could all hear.

His wife stared back at him, her eyes sparkling with fresh tears as he looked away from her before fully lifting the hatch. Angelica reached out and grabbed him by the cloth of his garment, pulling him back into the pit. He glared at her angrily, but couldn't manage a word. The cries outside came to a halt. It was silent for a few moments, then the sound finally came back, this time, there was more, however.

As was the case every time the monsters attacked, the Mewman guard would show up soon and the attack would be upended. Now, Rafael couldn't contain himself and couldn't allow his wife to contain him. He sprung from his solitude and lifted the hatch before dashing out of the home. Angelica called out for her husband.

"Rafa, no!" Her screams pierced through the air more viscerally than the monsters pierced through Mewmans' homes.

Marco called out as well, panicked as his father slammed the front door shut behind him.

"Dad!" He screamed. His body screamed at him to give chase, but as he got to his feet, his mother pulled him back down, he looked at her glossy eyes and lost all motor skills. The woman pled to him, "Don't try it. I can't risk two of you at once."

Marco looked to their wooden door, a sullen expression strewn across his face. He felt helpless, hopeless as his father left, and with the raging crashes of battle, his father could have died at any moment. Even still, Marco obeyed, his mother clinging to him like he was the only thing she had left because in that moment, he was.

Time dragged on. Each member of the Diaz family clung to the sounds for hope. And when the noise had finally stopped, Marco looked to his mother. She still didn't want him to move, but he couldn't stay put now. He pushed off of his mother and emerged from the hatch in a dead sprint. His mother followed after as quickly as she could, but as she reached the door, she clung to her stomach, falling to the ground with a pained grunt.

Marco didn't see this, however, and his sprint didn't end. He came to the center of the town, where he saw a group of Mewman knights and called for their attention.

"Hey," he began, his tone clearly urgent.

"My father, he came out here to help-" he stumbled over his words in the panic, "I need to find him," he explained to the knights only two of which actually cared to give him the attention of a glance.

None spoke back to him though, they only stared at him, baffled that he had even come to speak. Marco scoffed, looking around, then widened his eyes in shock. He kicked off of a foot and sprinted toward his father.

Beside him was another knight, this one clearly scolding his father. As Marco came to his side, he heard what the man was saying.

"...could have been killed. You need to stay inside when these attacks come. Trust the professionals to do their job," he saw Marco and felt the need to reiterate what he had already said, this time in a slightly softer tone, "And that applies to you too, you shouldn't have come outside, especially so soon after the attack. Learn from your father's mistake and-"

Rafael erupted in anger, taking a step forward as he shouted back at the knight, "Don't you dare tell my son such lies, you little-" the knight drew his blade without skipping a beat. He held the sword to Rafael's neck and spoke again, "Not another step," his tone condescending as ever.

Marco balled a fist angrily, but as his father backed down, he did the same as well. The knight shook his head at the two, remarking, "Dead man walking," before striding away on his steed.

Marco didn't mind his comments. Instead, he ran to his father's side and helped him back to his feet.

Rafael grabbed his son by the shoulders, looking into his eyes and beginning to say something, but as he looked over his shoulder, his eyes fell upon his wife, reeling on the ground just outside their home.

Rafael loosened his grip and sprinted to his home.

Marco's eyes finally met what his father's had and he felt a knot form in his throat. He jogged toward his home sighing in disappointment as he watched the Mewman guard stride out of his town having not changed a thing.

Just another day in the Butterfly Kingdom.

…

Author's note: And that's where chapter one ends. So, like I said, short, sweet, to the point. The next chapter will pick up right where this one left off and the plot will really start rolling. For now, though, that'll be it. I don't have much to say, this being the first chapter and all, so I guess I can just leave you with a few things and be done with it.

First off, this story will be cross-posted on Ao3 and FFN, so in the final notes of each chapter, when I remind people to leave a follow, favorite, etc, I'll also remind them to leave a comment and kudos, as is the rating system on that site, so, please leave whatever form of support is available to you to let me know how you feel about this new story.

Now, I have an Instagram page where I post updates on my stories, particularly the svtfoe ones, so please follow starcovstheworld if you want updates on when these chapters will be coming out.

And with that, I have nothing else to say. I hope you enjoyed it and I hope to see you again soon. Thanks for reading, goodbye.

~ lucash21