Today was the same day then last week. The children were done for today and moved on to get back home from the fields. The only day of the week they were allowed to play, they turned it into a day of pain and suffering. God may have indeed took a day to rest after creating the worlds, but children made it the day to purge out their frustration upon another.

They never turned back to check upon the lying child on the dirt road. The blood on their hands will be wash by the river nearby. The remain on their clothes will be pointed at the freak. Their damaged shoes can be easily repaired with nibble hands. No adults can or wants to know where the children went in the afternoon. Because it was good for them, to relieve their sadness and anxiety upon the one different from the rest.

His long hair were always silky, his skin fair and clean, eyes stern and cold. Only the clothes on his back labelled him as a Casualry. Rumours ran around about the boy, his mother is without a husband and his clear green eyes labelled him to the Luxurors, fuelling the villager's ill imagination. Without a man figure, the family of two were at the mercy of denigration and mockeries. The adults spoke behind the woman's back, but remained friendly to her as cruel as they were. She knew of their forked tongue, but she couldn't fight back or run away with her only son. No one would take them in. So, she remained strong for him.

The son did the same. He put up with the occasional beatings, the disgusted glares and the worried murmurs of his strange personality. He can deal with it all, as long he doesn't fight back they will be fine.

Once the boy got up, he tried his best to wipe away the blood running from his nose and sliced bottom lip. His stomach hurts and his arms felt numb from shielding his head against strong kicks. For now, he can ignore it all. All he needs to do is to go back home and rest. The work on the fields is arduous at this time of the year.

His first step made him collapse on the dirt. He didn't have much left in him anymore. Yet, he gets back up, only to fall again. He breathes heavily, cursing his legs for being so weak and used his arms to levitate his head away from the ground. From the edge of his vision, he could see the droplets of blood dropping on the ground and beads of sweat joining them. The boy blocked the screaming pain in his muscles and bones. His assailants probably broke something in him. He wasn't going home anytime soon.

''Hey.''

The boy's green eyes managed to look up. A kid of his age with wild, brown hair looked down on him. The boy never seen this child before, a newcomer? Probably. He hasn't kick him yet. The bloodied youth braced himself from another round of assaults, but a look into the stranger's eyes and he saw something in them. It wasn't anger or that sick joy of hurting another, it shined the same way when his mother sees him with bruises and blood; worry.

''Hey,'' the boy called again, ''ya need help?''

The boy's green eyes narrowed at the words. He let out a snarled and decide to show him that he doesn't need his pity. He clenched his teeth and lifted his body off the ground. However, whatever broke in his body punish his recklessness and forced him to collapse again. But this time, his body never connect with the earth.

''H-Hoi!''

The other child caught him in time. His vision turned red, blood had seeped in his eyes. His body became weightless, the pain searing across his body became too much to bare. The children got carried away this time.

He could hear the other boy's voice, but he couldn't register the words. His mind turned silent by the agony. He's used to pain, but today wasn't his best day. Before his world turned to darkness, he could have sworn he heard another voice. It wasn't clear what they said, but it was familiar to the boy.


It's the sound of cracking fire which returned him back to reality. His green eyes opened up, however a black spot covered his right side of vision. A brief moment of panic turned to relief when he realized a piece of clothe covered a part of his face. Was he back home?

He was about to call his mother, but an enthusiastic voice made him stop.

''Hoi! Ya're awake,'' he turned to see the unfamiliar boy from before, he was crouching nearby the chimney's fire, ''ya were bleeding pretty badly, so I took ya home.''

The boy's eyes widen in terror at the confession.

''The name's Issachar, by the way,'' he grinned awkwardly and scratch the back of his head, ''Pa said ya'll be okay soon and went to see the mayor to call in the Samurais. Whoever or whatever attack ya, it's really dangerous, ya know!''

The injured boy just stared at Issachar with eyes of disbelief. He is new to the village and they are going to be in trouble because of him!

An urge of panic flood his mind and swiftly got up. The cloth over his eye catapulted at the bed's feet and the sheets were thrown away from their warm embrace. Issachar watched in pure horror as the boy tried to stand back up.

''No, no, no!'' He shouted with fear, ''Ya can't get back up yet! Ya're still hurt!''

The injured youth didn't listen to the boy's words. They were in danger for having him in their home! The villagers will banish them from helping him! He's a freak. Freaks don't need the compassion of others! He can take care of himself!

''Ma! Mama!''

Issachar last calling summoned a woman into the room. The woman must be close to his mother's age. Mama came in and ran at his side. She placed her hands on his shoulders and barely pushed him down. It was just enough resistance against the boy's mediocre strength. The wounded boy tried to fight back the caring touch, but she's too strong against him. Yet, her strength didn't hurt him and she wasn't yelling at him, she was hushing him. Issachar only stepped around his mother and the boy, waiting for the rest to unfold.

''Shhh, shhh, boy,'' the mother whispered to him in a kind voice, ''it's alright. We'll not hurt you.''

The injured child looked at the woman's face. She wore a visible scar on her forehead, it tainted her skin in a darker tone and ruined her natural beauty. Her eyes were dark and glimmering into the fire's light. Her smile remained him of his own mother's, a smile full of understanding and comfort.

He stopped struggling against the woman's touch, but remained alert and on edge.

''There, there,'' the woman said, seeing the boy's agitation dimmed, ''I know what happened to you was scary, but you're in good hands now.'' Gently, she removed her hands and helped him to get back in bed before sitting at the edge while Issachar sat on the floor next to them.

''Mind if I ask you some questions?'' The woman asked gently, but the boy took a moment before nodding.

''What's your name?'' The first question which plagued the mind of Issachar as well. The boy with green eyes remained quiet for a moment, until he moved his lips to say his name given by his mother.

''Flynn,'' he answered, embarrass by the attention his head moved down.

''I see, so you're Flynn,'' the woman nodded with a happy smile, ''my name's Sophie,'' she motioned her son, ''this is Issachar and my husband's name is Frederick.''

Flynn nodded unconsciously to her explanations. He didn't know what to do. Sophie's kindness hit too close to home and the injured boy felt a pain of jealousy when she mentioned her husband. Or was it frustration?

''Flynn,'' he looked up at her, ''if you don't mind asking. Can you tell us what happened to you?''

His eyes widen once more, while his heart thumped heavily in his chest. The beatings, the pain, the mocking, it all came back all crushing in. He can't tell them about it. So, he only shocked his head once his eyes were covered by his hair.

''Do you live here?''

Flynn nodded to the question, which caught the woman by surprise. By experience, she probably thought he was a Luxuror, everybody did the mistake once. Only his clothes made sense of his origins, but the woman kept the same tone after she recovered from the revelation.

''Do you know where your Ma is?''

He nodded again, relaxed at the idea to return to his house and hug his mom.

''Frederick went to talk to the mayor of your attack. Once he's home, we'll take you back home, 'kay?''

Flynn nodded at the proposition. He needs to get back home, he needs to find his mom and hold her in his arms. Today wasn't a good day and he only wanted it to end.

''Are you hungry?'' The caring attention made Flynn's eyes to look at her with bewilderment. Did he heard it right?

''Ma, Ma can I have some soup too!?'' Issachar jumped back up with a giant grin on his face.

Sophie laughed at her son's exclamation, ''Of course, porcupine,'' she giggled as Issachar pouted at the nickname. Flynn didn't understood why the woman called her son 'porcupine'. The hair maybe?

''You too Flynn?'' The scarred woman repeated after getting up from bed.

This time, Flynn couldn't help but to break a small smile on his lips. Maybe he could trust them. They didn't hurt him or called him by names. But he couldn't get his hopes up, as they would soon figure out of his unholy heritage. For this moment, he will allow himself to indulge in security and happiness.