Chapter 54: When I Was Falling, You Caught Me
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"You don't understand. Vladstin can be fixed, I'm sure of it."
"But we don't want to fix him, Sangfroid! We're already tired of clutching onto straws of our own survival and sanity because of him! Can't you see? Finding the Hermit to turn him into a human is a futile quest!" The woman who was identical to Asver cried. Many people joined in and agreed with her.
This is the first time that Sangfroid had to raise his voice so he wouldn't be drowned out by the shouts of the others. "Have faith in God! I'm certain that he hears our prayers and will help us find a way somehow!"
Another one joined in. "But this IS God's will. The Bishop received the prophecy about where to find the missing pages because God had intended for all vampires to die! That has been our primary purpose as a Huntsman in the first place! We hunt and eradicate, not convert! You're the only one who keeps pushing us to a cliff by sending us straight to the enemy's domain!"
"Yes, he's right! The people are already suffering from not enough food, and yet your deal has to make them give up their blood and resources just for that vampire lord's amusement and some worthless 'secret'—"
"I'm doing this for His Highness! I never cared for the parchment's secret."
"Well, Leron is as good as dead anyway, not to mention that this was all his fault." Another one butt it.
Sangfroid's eyes narrowed dangerously to scan the circle that they made around the bonfire. "Who said that?"
The Huntsmen went quiet for a while for the first time in their turbulent meeting. Then, someone raised his hand.
"I did. " Zenon said, his torso still bandaged. "Am I wrong? Leron will become a vampire eventually because he was bitten. We'll be doing him a favor to end his life before he turns, along with that monster."
"Vladstin was not a monster before. He was a good man like the rest of us."
Zenon stood up. "I believe you when you say that Vladstin was good, but what if he can never be again? Leron still killed him, so even if he becomes human, how can you be so sure that he won't bear a grudge against him? Against all of us? That he won't attack as soon as he regained his lost rage, causing us to kill him all the same?"
Many agreed. "Vladstin's a lost cause!"
"Give up on him!"
"It's not worth it!"
"Enough."
The one who stopped all the incessant yelling was not Sangfroid, but Rothfir.
Holding Sangfroid's diary in his hand, he clasped their Chief's shoulder and gave it back. "We should respect each other's beliefs because before we were Huntsmen, we were brothers and sisters. If Sangfroid doesn't want to kill Vladstin, then we must not push the knife to him when he doesn't want to stain his hands."
Sangfroid took back the diary, relieved. But then....
"Sangfroid, please respect our decision as well. Before we called you into this meeting, we already decided that we no longer want you to be the Chief Huntsman. We will look for those missing pages and find Vladstin's weakness."
Sangfroid heart felt hard and cumbersome. He looked around and knew that Rothfir was right. The Noble Huntsmen no longer want to listen to him and follow his leadership. It had slowly become that way ever since the siege in Ilvedia, and Sangfroid knew that his role had already been replaced by the man standing before him, even though it was unspoken.
"So you want to part ways with me." A shadow was over Sangfroid's half-hidden face.
Asver shook his head. "No! We want you to join us, Chief—I mean, Sangfroid! Help us find those graves and be with us in our fight—"
"No." Sangfroid gripped his book of daily records and turned around to leave. "I won't allow you to kill Vladstin and Leron. Forgive me. I shall pack my belongings. "
And so, Sangfroid separated from the group, took all his things that he can carry on a single horse, and rode into the night so he can reach the ruins of Crescentia before the survivors do.
He managed to venture away from them by five hundred yards or so, then gave his horse some time to rest.
His mind was like a swirling vortex of thoughts and anxieties as he camped out by himself for the first time. Everyone was against him, even himself. He doubts his own decisions as well, it's not that he was truly brave nor certain of his decisions.
He was the odd one of the group again after years of earning their trust and camaraderie. He was once again the thorn that has to be cut out.
Sitting on the grass with just a single torch to keep him warm, he was now all alone.
But this wasn't the first time he felt alone. Even around people, the people he considered family, he had always felt that way. It was suffocating, and he feels nauseated like he was falling into the abyss, helpless and too insignificant to be saved. Falling into an endless void of emptiness and loneliness.
Yet someone caught him back then. Sangfroid recalled the memory while watching the torch's dancing flame, a picture of a smiling child with beautiful blue eyes burned into his mind.
--------------
"Sorry, you can't sit here. There's no more space. Go try over there."
"Sorry, our table is full."
"Sorry...."
"It's alwight." Little Sangfroid bowed his scraggly head and went out of the Chapel to eat in the gardens.
This was his usual routine, and the big oak tree outside had become his closest friend. He just thought he should try today because Father told him to.
"Don't think they despise you, Sangfroid. You are all brothers and sisters here in Santimieda. There are no exceptions, everyone is of equal importance and the same."
What Father told him was true. There was no issue with the color of your skin, hair, size of the belly, height and demeanor in Santimieda. Everyone accepts everyone as family.
Everyone except for him.
No one was belittling him or thinking he was inferior to all of them. No one was talking to him with hostility. But everyone seemed not to care for him or even notice that he was there.
It's just like doesn't exist. After every interaction, they forget about it. It doesn't help that he doesn't like to speak or cannot express his reactions to things strongly.
He overheard some orphans telling ghost stories in their one big shared bedroom. They didn't invite him to listen to it, but he did whilst pretending to sleep.
They said there was a ghost of a boy who went missing living in the big oak tree. He was playing around and climbed it, fell, and hit his head on a rock. His ghost has that big deformity from when he hit his head like a fruit that has been squashed.
His appearance made three children collapse from fright. A parish helper tripped and broke some of her teeth from the fall after seeing his hideous face. No one could approach that area for a while.
The boy wasn't a malignant spirit nor attacked anyone, but still hung around over the branch, sitting and whistling a tune. A priest finally decided to bless the tree but before he did, he asked the boy why he chose to stay over the tree, and caused all those accidents.
The boy said 'It's because no one even noticed that I died.'
Maybe one day, he will be like that boy.
The young Sangfroid of an impressionable age thought about it and was sure of it. He was only six, yet dark things had already loomed over his small, fragile heart.
Maybe he should test it out.
He has no idea of what's moral or immoral yet, only what is 'correct' and what is 'wrong'. What makes sense from what he was taught, like one plus one should be two. A human, especially a 'family member', should not be unnoticeable among his peers.
It's better to be a ghost because that way there's a reason for him to feel alone and invisible. It makes no sense when he's alive, and the confusion about this is unbearable... that idea of living itself had become unbearable to him.
So, he set down his plate, and climbed the tree.
He found the biggest and highest branch, stretching for about thirty feet and were as thick as a grown man. Little Sangfroid shimmied to the tip of the branch and looked down. This must be where the ghost boy fell.
It was a very, very high jump indeed.
Sangfroid's survival instincts finally rushed in to save him from his dark thoughts, but as he tried to get back down, he slipped and was left hanging on the branch with both hands!
The little boy's heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest, and the pounding on his head made him dizzy. He huffed to try to raise his body back to the branch, but he was too weak.
It won't be too long before his small hands give in, and he would soon become the new ghost of the tree.
"Somebody help me! Help me!" He yelled.
But nobody answered.
Sangfroid knew it. Nobody would hear him. They were too busy eating lunch together, laughing as they shared stories. Eventually, they will play outside and see his dead body. And life would still continue well for them once the Bishop or some other priest blesses his spirit.
He accepted his fate, and let go.
The fall took longer than he expected. Or at least, he felt that way. It irks him and made his whole body tense, bracing for impact.
To Sangfroid, falling is one of the worst sensations one could encounter. Knowing what will happen, but not being able to stop it. It was all completely hopeless that you could only close your eyes—
"Got you! Ouch!"
His body did not hit the ground. Instead, it hit another hard object that somehow felt warm like sitting over a fireplace would. He opened his single purple eye that was not hidden by his curly hair and saw an angel smiling at him.
"That would have hurt so badly if I wasn't around, little guy." Prince Leron of Ilvedia smiled at him. "Are you alright?"
"Yes....."
If not for the small crown on his head, Little Sangfroid would have kept mistaking him as a guardian angel that God has sent to save him.
"Hold on, let me put you down." The prince who was carrying him in his arms let him down gently. "What are doing up there anyway?"
".....Climbing."
"And? You just thought you would climb alone?" Prince Leron's eyebrows creased. "Where's everyone else? Who's playing with you?"
Sangfroid picked up his plate. He pointed to the Chapel's dining hall. "They were still eating."
Just from this, the perceptive Prince Leron already deduced many things about the little boy he saved. "They kicked you out? Or they won't sit with you?"
"....The second one."
Prince Leron sighed and patted his head. "And so you ate here alone, and thought to climb the tree so you would gain their attention."
Attention? Was that what Sangfroid wanted?
The word seemed so trivial in Prince Leron's mouth that it seemed like a bad thing, so he shook his head.
"Then why did you climb?"
"I wanted to be a ghost."
The angelic prince gave him a sad look. There's so much understanding and empathy in his eyes that it overwhelmed the young Sangfroid. From that moment, he knew Leron was different.... Just like him.
He asked, "What's your name?"
"Sangfwoid."
The lisp when this poor boy said his own name made his heart ache more for him. Prince Leron took his small, babyish hands and squeezed them. "Sangfroid. Before you become a ghost, won't you like to play with me instead? My father is still chatting with the Bishop, but until then, why don't we get to know each other and become friends?"
"Fwiends?"
"Yes. I'm Prince Leron, by the way."
"I know you."
Prince Leron blinked and smiled. "You do?"
Sangfroid nodded. "I saw you at some of the masses and Father told me about you."
"Then that's a great start. Since I know your name, and you know mine, we're now officially friends!"
"Really?" Sangfroid's eyes widen.
A friend? He knows what that means, but no one in the Chapel called him a friend before.
"Yes, really!" Prince Leron hooked his pinky with his.. "From now on, I'll be your friend forever and ever. I promise!"
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"You don't understand. Vladstin can be fixed, I'm sure of it."
"But we don't want to fix him, Sangfroid! We're already tired of clutching onto straws of our own survival and sanity because of him! Can't you see? Finding the Hermit to turn him into a human is a futile quest!" The woman who was identical to Asver cried. Many people joined in and agreed with her.
This is the first time that Sangfroid had to raise his voice so he wouldn't be drowned out by the shouts of the others. "Have faith in God! I'm certain that he hears our prayers and will help us find a way somehow!"
Another one joined in. "But this IS God's will. The Bishop received the prophecy about where to find the missing pages because God had intended for all vampires to die! That has been our primary purpose as a Huntsman in the first place! We hunt and eradicate, not convert! You're the only one who keeps pushing us to a cliff by sending us straight to the enemy's domain!"
"Yes, he's right! The people are already suffering from not enough food, and yet your deal has to make them give up their blood and resources just for that vampire lord's amusement and some worthless 'secret'—"
"I'm doing this for His Highness! I never cared for the parchment's secret."
"Well, Leron is as good as dead anyway, not to mention that this was all his fault." Another one butt it.
Sangfroid's eyes narrowed dangerously to scan the circle that they made around the bonfire. "Who said that?"
The Huntsmen went quiet for a while for the first time in their turbulent meeting. Then, someone raised his hand.
"I did. " Zenon said, his torso still bandaged. "Am I wrong? Leron will become a vampire eventually because he was bitten. We'll be doing him a favor to end his life before he turns, along with that monster."
"Vladstin was not a monster before. He was a good man like the rest of us."
Zenon stood up. "I believe you when you say that Vladstin was good, but what if he can never be again? Leron still killed him, so even if he becomes human, how can you be so sure that he won't bear a grudge against him? Against all of us? That he won't attack as soon as he regained his lost rage, causing us to kill him all the same?"
Many agreed. "Vladstin's a lost cause!"
"Give up on him!"
"It's not worth it!"
"Enough."
The one who stopped all the incessant yelling was not Sangfroid, but Rothfir.
Holding Sangfroid's diary in his hand, he clasped their Chief's shoulder and gave it back. "We should respect each other's beliefs because before we were Huntsmen, we were brothers and sisters. If Sangfroid doesn't want to kill Vladstin, then we must not push the knife to him when he doesn't want to stain his hands."
Sangfroid took back the diary, relieved. But then....
"Sangfroid, please respect our decision as well. Before we called you into this meeting, we already decided that we no longer want you to be the Chief Huntsman. We will look for those missing pages and find Vladstin's weakness."
Sangfroid heart felt hard and cumbersome. He looked around and knew that Rothfir was right. The Noble Huntsmen no longer want to listen to him and follow his leadership. It had slowly become that way ever since the siege in Ilvedia, and Sangfroid knew that his role had already been replaced by the man standing before him, even though it was unspoken.
"So you want to part ways with me." A shadow was over Sangfroid's half-hidden face.
Asver shook his head. "No! We want you to join us, Chief—I mean, Sangfroid! Help us find those graves and be with us in our fight—"
"No." Sangfroid gripped his book of daily records and turned around to leave. "I won't allow you to kill Vladstin and Leron. Forgive me. I shall pack my belongings. "
And so, Sangfroid separated from the group, took all his things that he can carry on a single horse, and rode into the night so he can reach the ruins of Crescentia before the survivors do.
He managed to venture away from them by five hundred yards or so, then gave his horse some time to rest.
His mind was like a swirling vortex of thoughts and anxieties as he camped out by himself for the first time. Everyone was against him, even himself. He doubts his own decisions as well, it's not that he was truly brave nor certain of his decisions.
He was the odd one of the group again after years of earning their trust and camaraderie. He was once again the thorn that has to be cut out.
Sitting on the grass with just a single torch to keep him warm, he was now all alone.
But this wasn't the first time he felt alone. Even around people, the people he considered family, he had always felt that way. It was suffocating, and he feels nauseated like he was falling into the abyss, helpless and too insignificant to be saved. Falling into an endless void of emptiness and loneliness.
Yet someone caught him back then. Sangfroid recalled the memory while watching the torch's dancing flame, a picture of a smiling child with beautiful blue eyes burned into his mind.
--------------
"Sorry, you can't sit here. There's no more space. Go try over there."
"Sorry, our table is full."
"Sorry...."
"It's alwight." Little Sangfroid bowed his scraggly head and went out of the Chapel to eat in the gardens.
This was his usual routine, and the big oak tree outside had become his closest friend. He just thought he should try today because Father told him to.
"Don't think they despise you, Sangfroid. You are all brothers and sisters here in Santimieda. There are no exceptions, everyone is of equal importance and the same."
What Father told him was true. There was no issue with the color of your skin, hair, size of the belly, height and demeanor in Santimieda. Everyone accepts everyone as family.
Everyone except for him.
No one was belittling him or thinking he was inferior to all of them. No one was talking to him with hostility. But everyone seemed not to care for him or even notice that he was there.
It's just like doesn't exist. After every interaction, they forget about it. It doesn't help that he doesn't like to speak or cannot express his reactions to things strongly.
He overheard some orphans telling ghost stories in their one big shared bedroom. They didn't invite him to listen to it, but he did whilst pretending to sleep.
They said there was a ghost of a boy who went missing living in the big oak tree. He was playing around and climbed it, fell, and hit his head on a rock. His ghost has that big deformity from when he hit his head like a fruit that has been squashed.
His appearance made three children collapse from fright. A parish helper tripped and broke some of her teeth from the fall after seeing his hideous face. No one could approach that area for a while.
The boy wasn't a malignant spirit nor attacked anyone, but still hung around over the branch, sitting and whistling a tune. A priest finally decided to bless the tree but before he did, he asked the boy why he chose to stay over the tree, and caused all those accidents.
The boy said 'It's because no one even noticed that I died.'
Maybe one day, he will be like that boy.
The young Sangfroid of an impressionable age thought about it and was sure of it. He was only six, yet dark things had already loomed over his small, fragile heart.
Maybe he should test it out.
He has no idea of what's moral or immoral yet, only what is 'correct' and what is 'wrong'. What makes sense from what he was taught, like one plus one should be two. A human, especially a 'family member', should not be unnoticeable among his peers.
It's better to be a ghost because that way there's a reason for him to feel alone and invisible. It makes no sense when he's alive, and the confusion about this is unbearable... that idea of living itself had become unbearable to him.
So, he set down his plate, and climbed the tree.
He found the biggest and highest branch, stretching for about thirty feet and were as thick as a grown man. Little Sangfroid shimmied to the tip of the branch and looked down. This must be where the ghost boy fell.
It was a very, very high jump indeed.
Sangfroid's survival instincts finally rushed in to save him from his dark thoughts, but as he tried to get back down, he slipped and was left hanging on the branch with both hands!
The little boy's heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest, and the pounding on his head made him dizzy. He huffed to try to raise his body back to the branch, but he was too weak.
It won't be too long before his small hands give in, and he would soon become the new ghost of the tree.
"Somebody help me! Help me!" He yelled.
But nobody answered.
Sangfroid knew it. Nobody would hear him. They were too busy eating lunch together, laughing as they shared stories. Eventually, they will play outside and see his dead body. And life would still continue well for them once the Bishop or some other priest blesses his spirit.
He accepted his fate, and let go.
The fall took longer than he expected. Or at least, he felt that way. It irks him and made his whole body tense, bracing for impact.
To Sangfroid, falling is one of the worst sensations one could encounter. Knowing what will happen, but not being able to stop it. It was all completely hopeless that you could only close your eyes—
"Got you! Ouch!"
His body did not hit the ground. Instead, it hit another hard object that somehow felt warm like sitting over a fireplace would. He opened his single purple eye that was not hidden by his curly hair and saw an angel smiling at him.
"That would have hurt so badly if I wasn't around, little guy." Prince Leron of Ilvedia smiled at him. "Are you alright?"
"Yes....."
If not for the small crown on his head, Little Sangfroid would have kept mistaking him as a guardian angel that God has sent to save him.
"Hold on, let me put you down." The prince who was carrying him in his arms let him down gently. "What are doing up there anyway?"
".....Climbing."
"And? You just thought you would climb alone?" Prince Leron's eyebrows creased. "Where's everyone else? Who's playing with you?"
Sangfroid picked up his plate. He pointed to the Chapel's dining hall. "They were still eating."
Just from this, the perceptive Prince Leron already deduced many things about the little boy he saved. "They kicked you out? Or they won't sit with you?"
"....The second one."
Prince Leron sighed and patted his head. "And so you ate here alone, and thought to climb the tree so you would gain their attention."
Attention? Was that what Sangfroid wanted?
The word seemed so trivial in Prince Leron's mouth that it seemed like a bad thing, so he shook his head.
"Then why did you climb?"
"I wanted to be a ghost."
The angelic prince gave him a sad look. There's so much understanding and empathy in his eyes that it overwhelmed the young Sangfroid. From that moment, he knew Leron was different.... Just like him.
He asked, "What's your name?"
"Sangfwoid."
The lisp when this poor boy said his own name made his heart ache more for him. Prince Leron took his small, babyish hands and squeezed them. "Sangfroid. Before you become a ghost, won't you like to play with me instead? My father is still chatting with the Bishop, but until then, why don't we get to know each other and become friends?"
"Fwiends?"
"Yes. I'm Prince Leron, by the way."
"I know you."
Prince Leron blinked and smiled. "You do?"
Sangfroid nodded. "I saw you at some of the masses and Father told me about you."
"Then that's a great start. Since I know your name, and you know mine, we're now officially friends!"
"Really?" Sangfroid's eyes widen.
A friend? He knows what that means, but no one in the Chapel called him a friend before.
"Yes, really!" Prince Leron hooked his pinky with his.. "From now on, I'll be your friend forever and ever. I promise!"
"You don't understand. Vladstin can be fixed, I'm sure of it.""But we don't want to fix him, Sangfroid! We're already tired of clutching onto straws of our own survival and sanity because of him! Can't you see? Finding the Hermit to turn him into a human is a futile quest!" The woman who was identical to Asver cried. Many people joined in and agreed with her.This is the first time that Sangfroid had to raise his voice so he wouldn't be drowned out by the shouts of the others. "Have faith in God! I'm certain that he hears our prayers and will help us find a way somehow!"Another one joined in. "But this IS God's will. The Bishop received the prophecy about where to find the missing pages because God had intended for all vampires to die! That has been our primary purpose as a Huntsman in the first place! We hunt and eradicate, not convert! You're the only one who keeps pushing us to a cliff by sending us straight to the enemy's domain!""Yes, he's right! The people are already suffering from not enough food, and yet your deal has to make them give up their blood and resources just for that vampire lord's amusement and some worthless 'secret'""I'm doing this for His Highness! I never cared for the parchment's secret.""Well, Leron is as good as dead anyway, not to mention that this was all his fault." Another one butt it.Sangfroid's eyes narrowed dangerously to scan the circle that they made around the bonfire. "Who said that?"The Huntsmen went quiet for a while for the first time in their turbulent meeting. Then, someone raised his hand."I did. " Zenon said, his torso still bandaged. "Am I wrong? Leron will become a vampire eventually because he was bitten. We'll be doing him a favor to end his life before he turns, along with that monster.""Vladstin was not a monster before. He was a good man like the rest of us."Zenon stood up. "I believe you when you say that Vladstin was good, but what if he can never be again? Leron still killed him, so even if he becomes human, how can you be so sure that he won't bear a grudge against him? Against all of us? That he won't attack as soon as he regained his lost rage, causing us to kill him all the same?"Many agreed. "Vladstin's a lost cause!""Give up on him!""It's not worth it!""Enough."The one who stopped all the incessant yelling was not Sangfroid, but Rothfir.Holding Sangfroid's diary in his hand, he clasped their Chief's shoulder and gave it back. "We should respect each other's beliefs because before we were Huntsmen, we were brothers and sisters. If Sangfroid doesn't want to kill Vladstin, then we must not push the knife to him when he doesn't want to stain his hands."Sangfroid took back the diary, relieved. But then...."Sangfroid, please respect our decision as well. Before we called you into this meeting, we already decided that we no longer want you to be the Chief Huntsman. We will look for those missing pages and find Vladstin's weakness."Sangfroid heart felt hard and cumbersome. He looked around and knew that Rothfir was right. The Noble Huntsmen no longer want to listen to him and follow his leadership. It had slowly become that way ever since the siege in Ilvedia, and Sangfroid knew that his role had already been replaced by the man standing before him, even though it was unspoken."So you want to part ways with me." A shadow was over Sangfroid's half-hidden face.Asver shook his head. "No! We want you to join us, ChiefI mean, Sangfroid! Help us find those graves and be with us in our fight""No." Sangfroid gripped his book of daily records and turned around to leave. "I won't allow you to kill Vladstin and Leron. Forgive me. I shall pack my belongings. "And so, Sangfroid separated from the group, took all his things that he can carry on a single horse, and rode into the night so he can reach the ruins of Crescentia before the survivors do.He managed to venture away from them by five hundred yards or so, then gave his horse some time to rest.His mind was like a swirling vortex of thoughts and anxieties as he camped out by himself for the first time. Everyone was against him, even himself. He doubts his own decisions as well, it's not that he was truly brave nor certain of his decisions.He was the odd one of the group again after years of earning their trust and camaraderie. He was once again the thorn that has to be cut out.Sitting on the grass with just a single torch to keep him warm, he was now all alone.But this wasn't the first time he felt alone. Even around people, the people he considered family, he had always felt that way. It was suffocating, and he feels nauseated like he was falling into the abyss, helpless and too insignificant to be saved. Falling into an endless void of emptiness and loneliness.Yet someone caught him back then. Sangfroid recalled the memory while watching the torch's dancing flame, a picture of a smiling child with beautiful blue eyes burned into his mind.--------------"Sorry, you can't sit here. There's no more space. Go try over there.""Sorry, our table is full.""Sorry....""It's alwight." Little Sangfroid bowed his scraggly head and went out of the Chapel to eat in the gardens.This was his usual routine, and the big oak tree outside had become his closest friend. He just thought he should try today because Father told him to."Don't think they despise you, Sangfroid. You are all brothers and sisters here in Santimieda. There are no exceptions, everyone is of equal importance and the same."What Father told him was true. There was no issue with the color of your skin, hair, size of the belly, height and demeanor in Santimieda. Everyone accepts everyone as family.Everyone except for him.No one was belittling him or thinking he was inferior to all of them. No one was talking to him with hostility. But everyone seemed not to care for him or even notice that he was there.It's just like doesn't exist. After every interaction, they forget about it. It doesn't help that he doesn't like to speak or cannot express his reactions to things strongly.He overheard some orphans telling ghost stories in their one big shared bedroom. They didn't invite him to listen to it, but he did whilst pretending to sleep.They said there was a ghost of a boy who went missing living in the big oak tree. He was playing around and climbed it, fell, and hit his head on a rock. His ghost has that big deformity from when he hit his head like a fruit that has been squashed.His appearance made three children collapse from fright. A parish helper tripped and broke some of her teeth from the fall after seeing his hideous face. No one could approach that area for a while.The boy wasn't a malignant spirit nor attacked anyone, but still hung around over the branch, sitting and whistling a tune. A priest finally decided to bless the tree but before he did, he asked the boy why he chose to stay over the tree, and caused all those accidents.The boy said 'It's because no one even noticed that I died.'Maybe one day, he will be like that boy.The young Sangfroid of an impressionable age thought about it and was sure of it. He was only six, yet dark things had already loomed over his small, fragile heart.Maybe he should test it out.He has no idea of what's moral or immoral yet, only what is 'correct' and what is 'wrong'. What makes sense from what he was taught, like one plus one should be two. A human, especially a 'family member', should not be unnoticeable among his peers.It's better to be a ghost because that way there's a reason for him to feel alone and invisible. It makes no sense when he's alive, and the confusion about this is unbearable... that idea of living itself had become unbearable to him.So, he set down his plate, and climbed the tree.He found the biggest and highest branch, stretching for about thirty feet and were as thick as a grown man. Little Sangfroid shimmied to the tip of the branch and looked down. This must be where the ghost boy fell.It was a very, very high jump indeed.Sangfroid's survival instincts finally rushed in to save him from his dark thoughts, but as he tried to get back down, he slipped and was left hanging on the branch with both hands!The little boy's heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest, and the pounding on his head made him dizzy. He huffed to try to raise his body back to the branch, but he was too weak.It won't be too long before his small hands give in, and he would soon become the new ghost of the tree."Somebody help me! Help me!" He yelled.But nobody answered.Sangfroid knew it. Nobody would hear him. They were too busy eating lunch together, laughing as they shared stories. Eventually, they will play outside and see his dead body. And life would still continue well for them once the Bishop or some other priest blesses his spirit.He accepted his fate, and let go.The fall took longer than he expected. Or at least, he felt that way. It irks him and made his whole body tense, bracing for impact.To Sangfroid, falling is one of the worst sensations one could encounter. Knowing what will happen, but not being able to stop it. It was all completely hopeless that you could only close your eyes"Got you! Ouch!"His body did not hit the ground. Instead, it hit another hard object that somehow felt warm like sitting over a fireplace would. He opened his single purple eye that was not hidden by his curly hair and saw an angel smiling at him."That would have hurt so badly if I wasn't around, little guy." Prince Leron of Ilvedia smiled at him. "Are you alright?""Yes....."If not for the small crown on his head, Little Sangfroid would have kept mistaking him as a guardian angel that God has sent to save him."Hold on, let me put you down." The prince who was carrying him in his arms let him down gently. "What are doing up there anyway?"".....Climbing.""And? You just thought you would climb alone?" Prince Leron's eyebrows creased. "Where's everyone else? Who's playing with you?"Sangfroid picked up his plate. He pointed to the Chapel's dining hall. "They were still eating."Just from this, the perceptive Prince Leron already deduced many things about the little boy he saved. "They kicked you out? Or they won't sit with you?""....The second one."Prince Leron sighed and patted his head. "And so you ate here alone, and thought to climb the tree so you would gain their attention."Attention? Was that what Sangfroid wanted?The word seemed so trivial in Prince Leron's mouth that it seemed like a bad thing, so he shook his head."Then why did you climb?""I wanted to be a ghost."The angelic prince gave him a sad look. There's so much understanding and empathy in his eyes that it overwhelmed the young Sangfroid. From that moment, he knew Leron was different.... Just like him.He asked, "What's your name?""Sangfwoid."The lisp when this poor boy said his own name made his heart ache more for him. Prince Leron took his small, babyish hands and squeezed them."Sangfroid. Before you become a ghost, won't you like to play with me instead? My father is still chatting with the Bishop, but until then, why don't we get to know each other and become friends?""Fwiends?""Yes. I'm Prince Leron, by the way.""I know you."Prince Leron blinked and smiled. "You do?"Sangfroid nodded. "I saw you at some of the masses and Father told me about you.""Then that's a great start. Since I know your name, and you know mine, we're now officially friends!""Really?" Sangfroid's eyes widen.A friend? He knows what that means, but no one in the Chapel called him a friend before."Yes, really!" Prince Leron hooked his pinky with his.. "From now on, I'll be your friend forever and ever. I promise!"
