In the Caste System that Ruled over society, Jager was a Third Class Citizen. Bermuda knew that- he knew it all too well- and he knew the rules for dealing with those with a 'lesser' class though in his own opinion whoever invited said Caste System was a fool.
According to the Laws of Society; Jager, as a Third Class Citizen, was forbidden from attending school- let alone actually learning- as school was only for those of the First and Second Class. The punishments to enforce such a rule was strict and harsh ranging from Lashing towards actually removing the eyes of the guilty party depending upon the decision of the Third Class Citizen's Owner. Ja, Owner. As far as society was concerned not a single soul who was unfortunate enough to be born a Third Class Citizen was an individual but instead considered a living extension of their Lord/Lady's Will and Resolve.
It was a stupid Law, in Bermuda's opinion, one that only managed to limit the growth of their society. What did it matter if a Third Class Citizen actually had a brain to think for theirselves instead of following orders like mindless sheep? Which was why- despite it being two in the morning- The dark eyed child fount himself leaning over the back of his desk chair observing Jager's rather shaky attempts at writing.
"Jager, you need to slow down. Rushing only makes it messier than normal."
Emerald eyes darted up to meet pitch black- and held them for a moment- before the younger child gave a slight nod as he took a breath in an attempt to steady himself. It wasn't easy, every logical part of his mind kept screaming at him that someone was going to walk in at any moment and then they would be caught. In all honesty, Jager didn't fear for himself but rather the Bermuda. If they were caught what would happen to Bermuda breaking the laws of their society?
Whatever it was, Jager doubted it would be pleasant.
The feeling of a gently yet firm hand closing over his own causes emerald eyes to shoot open- when had he even closed them- as the younger felt another's chest against his back.
"Calm down, Jager, before you suffer a panic attack."
And how exactly was he supposed to do that?
"Take a deep breath in."
Had he said that out loud?
"No, you're just as easy to read as an open book, Jager. Now Breathe in."
An open book? Surely it wasn't that easy?
"Unfortunately it is... We'll work on a poker face for you later for now: Breathe."
Slowly the younger of the two took a deep breath inwards until his lungs felt as though they were going to explode from an excess amount of oxygen.
"Now out. "
He slumped against Bermuda's chest as his lungs were stripped of the overflow of oxygen.
"Now I want you to repeat it until your heart is no longer attempting to jump from your chest. "
THUMP!
The floor- it seemed- was rapidly becoming his best friend.
"Jager, get up."
If he was honest, he really didn't want to. Everything hurt and his body felt as heavy as led yet the emerald eyed child couldn't bring himself to stay down. Bermuda was counting on him, if he stayed down he would be letting the other down. So it was with a great effort the younger child pushed himself onto his hands and knees- only to be knocked right back down at a foot collided with his ribs.
"Faster, Jager!"
Bermuda was a slave driver, Jager decided as his eyes darted upwards meeting the pitch black ones that stared down like an empty void. Its only because he's looking upwards, that the younger child sees the foot coming back for his ribs and manages to just push against the ground- throwing himself out of the other's reach.
He must have done something right as for a brief -had he blinked, Jager had no doubt he would have missed it- satisfied smile appears on Bermuda's face only to disappear a moment.
"An enemy won't wait for you to collect your baring Jager therefore neither will I."
The other flicks his wrist and a moment later there's a knife coming directly at his face- Father above, he officially hated Bermuda's version of 'Self defense lessons'- without a thought, Jager allowed his body to go lax on the ground causing the knife to miss his face- by less then a centimeter. Gods above, Bermuda was a sadist- instead severing strands of his hair.
The knife had just connect with the wooden floors- a soft thud filling the air- before Jager finds himself at the wrong end of several more; by some miracle, the emerald eyed child manages to scramble to his feet and throw himself aside as the blade connected to were he once laid.
Somehow their 'Self Defense' lessons turn into a 'try to avoid becoming a porcupine via Bermuda's knives' lesson. Yet- despite the fact he knows he should be terrified- Jager finds it difficult not to smile.
He hurts- everything hurts- yet somehow Jager finds he feels satisfied when Bermuda grants him a soft smile, while ruffling his hair and telling him 'You did well'. Its the first time anyone has ever told him such a thing and the emerald eyed child finds he enjoys the sense of unspoken acknowledgement that comes with those words.
"There are many things one must be aware of when serving a Lord or Lady, Jager. The First and Most Important is the fact: The You are no longer an individual but a living extension of Lord Bermuda's Will and Resolve. You are Lord Bermuda's Sword and Shield, His First and LAST defense. Once they get pass you; This is no more Lord Bermuda but a corpse."
"Jager?"
"Yes Bermuda?"
"Get out from under my bed," the ebony haired child couldn't help but deadpanned as emerald eyes stared at him from the darkness with a firm resolve.
"But," the younger seemed hesitant to obey as concern colored his tone, "What if someone attempts to attack you in your sleep?"
Another sigh left the older child, "No one is going to attack me in my bed, Jager."
"We don't know that," The younger insisted stubbornly as a scowl- though in Bermuda's honest opinion looked more like a pout- formed upon the younger's face," What if they do and I'm not here to stop them?"
He was going to kill whoever was putting this nonsense into the younger's head.
"Jager, I would like to hope if someone comes at you with a knife, you wouldn't run towards them."
"Oh course I wouldn't," The younger stated with an insulted look towards the dark eyed child who raised a brow, "Yet you would run at them if they came at me?"
"Yes."
Gods above. Forget killing, Bermuda was going to torture- in the slowest and most agonizing ways he could think of- whoever was behind filling Jager's head with this stupidity.
"No, Jager. No matter what, you do not charge someone who's holding a knife."
"But-"
"Jager, do you not trust me?" It was a low blow and Bermuda knew it yet he also knew how stubborn the younger could be once he set his mind to something. Emerald eyes widened in panic as the younger scrambled to reassure the older and wipe away any doubts that may be creeping into the other's mind.
"Of course I trust you!"
Crossing his arms across his chest, Bermuda granted the other his best skeptical look, "Then do you believe me to weak to protect myself?"
"Of course not!" Jager knew better to allow such blasphemy to cross his mind. After all, Bermuda literally beat him into the ground every time the older attempted to teach him self defense or how to fight. Despite his best efforts, the emerald eyed child still couldn't land a hit on the other.
"Then get out from underneath my bed."
Honestly, the defeated expression upon the other's face as he crawled out from under the bed and slumped at the foot of it made Bermuda feel as though he had just kicked a puppy left out in a thunderstorm. Still he had to be firm, Bermuda told himself, Bad habits had to be nipped in the bud before they had time to fester into something more- something dangerous- and willingly throwing yourself on someone's knife was a prime example of a 'bad habit' in the dark eyed child's opinion.
It was an accident. He didn't mean to do it.
He doesn't know how he did it. Yet he did, the undeniable proof lies at the foot of a tree staring blankly into the sky with void- oh so empty- blue eyes.
He doesn't know what to do so he does nothing, just standing there staring at the blond haired, blue eyed teenager who moments before had been so full of life -even while he attempted to beat the very life out of him for some make-believe slight against First Class Heir- as though it would somehow undo what he's done.
It won't.
"Jager," He looks upwards slowly upon hearing the voice only to find himself staring at wide ebony black eyes that slowly move from him to the body and back, "What did you do?"
"I-" his voice dies as he's filled with the urge to run- there was nothing more he wanted in that moment to just run away from both his actions and Bermuda's stare that all but screams the older already knows what he's done- but he's rooted to the ground, "I don't know."
Its the truth.
Jager knows the results of what he's done- he cannot overlook it even if he wanted to- but he doesn't know how he did it. All he had done was flung an arm out at the other who had been raising a pipe to smash against his head- he hadn't even touched him- yet the blond haired boy had been flung back like a ragdoll and landed with a rather sickening crack that stole any life in the other's eyes.
"I don't know," He repeats the words like a mantra- unable to bring himself to focus on reality around him- until his head is forced to the side with a loud smack as the only other person in the area slaps him hard enough for the emerald eyed child to see dots dancing in his vision. Then there are warm arms wrapped around his frame- as though to shelter him- as a soft voice whispers reassuringly in his ear.
"Its okay, Jager. I'll make it better. I'll make it all better."
He believes him.
After all, Bermuda has never lied to him before so he can't see the elder boy starting now. Slowly, he wraps his own arms around the other- clinging as though the dark eyed child was a lifeline- as he buries his face into the other's shirt despite knowing he shouldn't. He was a third class, it wasn't his place to touch a First Class, but he's already killed one so he might as well.
Over the next few weeks, Jager expects someone to show- after all, he had killed and broken a sacred law in their society. They would come if only to torture and kill him for it- but no one ever does. For that matter, no one ever finds the blonde's body -leaving even Jager wondering exactly what Bermuda had done with it though he never asks- which eventually starts an outcry of rumors ranging from the boy running away to being kidnaped by the Fae.
Bermuda keeps his silence and therefore so does Jager.
He's never liked Elias, if Bermuda is honest.
So its rather easy for him to dispose of the body- chopping it into such fine pieces no one- not even his Father- would be capable of putting the other back together before scattering said pieces around the forest for the woodland animals to devour.
Hell, it was easy for him to overlook the fact Jager had killed the blond- though he still held concerns for the emerald eyed boys mental state- and in all honestly wouldn't have cared in the least had it not been for how Jager had killed him.
After all- according to the church- Magic was a Sin.
Had a priest- or any of the villagers witnessed the crime- Bermuda had no doubt Jager would have fount himself burning at a stake before the younger even knew what happened. Had his Father- or those of similar opinion concerning the forbidden topic, stumbled across the incident; Bermuda had no doubt he would have fount the younger boy dissected- and without an ounce of blood or a single organ inside him- on one of the alters his Father kept in the basement for his rituals.
The Gods had been favoring Jager, Bermuda supposed, that it was him who stumbled across the younger as anyone else doing so would have led to the other's rather agonizing death. Still that left the dark eyed child with one little problem:
How was he to prevent Jager from using his Magic again when the other wasn't even aware he had it?
