Dance of the Damned

Back To Regrets

Huh? Where am I?

Britton looked around him to see nothing but white, empty and endless white.

Staring at his hands, he paused for a second. Am I … dead? No, I can’t be dead yet, I have too many things to do still. What about Elizabeth?

Is she alright? I remember seeing her beside me, but … I don’t know if that was an imagination or reality. I … I haven’t done anything just yet.

All my life, I thought I would amount to something. No matter how small it might be. Perhaps I would save a life one day, or I would become someone important in life.

Nothing like that happened. I lost my family at the age of sixteen and had to take in whatever job was available to me. Not enough money for school so I only know the very basics of reading and it wasn’t that impressive either.

But … even if my family were alive, it is not like they would have been able to do anything for my big dreams. We were too poor and they worked themselves to their death.

Life got even harder as I juggled four jobs that hardly paid. My younger brother helped me by getting a job as well but there lied one of my biggest regrets.

I should not have made him work. He was younger than me and got more pay than I did cleaning the chimneys of the rich people’s houses.

Just as people told me would happen, he fell from the chimney and landed on the cold ground. That was where I found him that night, knocked unconscious and cold as ice.

It was especially cold that day, I can still feel the cold if I think about it.

I rushed him to the tiny room we stayed in and burnt all the wood we had in our house to try and keep him warm. Ripping apart our creaking bed with my bare hands, cutting them in the process.

The fire blazed to life and the room became warm but … my brother was still completely irresponsive. I shook him and tried to call to his name over and over again, to no avail.

Running out of the house, I knocked on the door of an elderly lady I would meet every time I passed the house. She was the only one that showed any concern for me, giving me and my brother some spare clothes even though she was struggling herself with four children.

Her oldest son worked in the large academy, cleaning the floors and toilets. I don’t know why I ran to her house that day, my feet just took me there.

That was where I met a white-haired boy, about my age, having tea with the children and the woman.

Compared to the shabby house, he seemed to glow. His clothes were simple but one could immediately tell that he was from a noble family from his composure, speech and the way he carried himself.

Without knocking, I burst into the room, begging for help. To my surprise, the boy listened to what I had to say and immediately told me to take him to my house after telling the woman to call a doctor.

He did not even grab an extra coat as we ran out, not waiting for the others, the oldest son following close behind. He took one look at my brother and picked him up in his arms.

The oldest son tried to stop him but he would not listen. Before I knew it, we were in a carriage, rushing to the nearest physician’s house.

The two stayed with me as the physician declared the boy dead and even helped me bury my brother under the floorboards of the house, with my mother and father. The only thing I owned.

The white-haired boy offered to help me get a job, a good-paying one but I had to refuse. I couldn’t bear staying in that house or that town anymore. I thought of moving to the next town.

To my surprise, he gave me the contact of a man in the town I was going to and the two saw me off.

The oldest son, whose name I came to find out was Philip, gave me some clothes and bread from his family and the white-haired boy, whose name I refused to learn, handed me a small pouch filled with silver coins, saying, “Just to help you get started.”

I was in no position to refuse so I promised that I would pay him back and left, starting my new life in that town. The man I contacted took me in and showed me how to bake bread, cook and make gin.

It was a comfortable life. I had a room all to myself, it was warm and I did not have to starve again. But the guilt continued.

If only I had been a little more adamant in leaving the town earlier, my brother might have lived. To this day, I can never fully enjoy eating. The thought always came up, ‘He might enjoy this,’ or, ‘This would be his favourite, if he could taste it’.

I only thought of living life as it was, even if it was mundane, there was comfort in that. Until I passed by a carriage, carrying a barrel of gin on my shoulders and a beautiful woman stepped out of it asking me to marry her.

I didn’t have any special skills and she did not care about that. So I agreed, I mean, what could go wrong?

A few years later, we had a beautiful baby daughter. She looked exactly like her mother, down to the hair colour but that only made me happy.

I lived even more comfortably than before, the occasional guilt still surfaces but other than that, everything was fine. Until her death and we were thrown into the streets again.

I panicked, remembering what happened to my brother. I promised that I would never let my daughter have to work as hard as we had to so … I got into gambling.

It was easy at first but I grew greedy and then started losing more and more money.

Just once more, I thought. I can win this time. Just once more.

As another place kicked me out, I met an angel amidst the trash all around me. He looked so much like the boy I met in the shabby house that I thought I was hallucinating.

But then, he extended his hand to me and asked if I wanted to save my daughter. The answer was obvious and I followed him. Yes, I was one of the more sceptical people in the Lion but I placed all my trust in him.

I hoped it wasn’t a mistake.

_______________________

Opening his eyes, Britton looked around the room to see Elizabeth sleeping on the chair beside his bed, tears coming into his eyes as he saw her breathing.

She’s alive. He thought, laying back down. I’m so glad. So so glad.

“Oh? You are awake, Britton?” Surprised, the man turned to the door only to see a strawberry blond-haired man with a white-haired boy beside him, grinning.

“Good morning, Britton!” Micah greeted, holding a loaf of bread to the man’s face. “Want some? They are filled with chocolate inside.”

“N-no thank you,” Britton said, looking at Micah closely, seeing a faint scar along the boy’s cheek from when he threw the mask at him.

“Staring is rude, you know?” Micah said, smiling gently at him. “How are you feeling? In any pain?”

“No. I can’t feel a thing.” The man said sheepishly.

“That’s good,” Micah said, sitting on the side of his bed as the woman began to stir. “Say what you want to her. You … don’t have too long.”

“Father!” Elizabeth sat up, running to his side. “You are awake! I am so happy. I …”

The woman started sobbing as she held the man’s hand. “Why did you come? You should have just stayed there.”

“You wouldn’t be alive then.” The man blond man said softly.

“I don’t understand.” She sobbed. “Father, I am engaged. There is this man from the neighbouring kingdom. He works at the palace.”

“Library?”

“Yes. How did you know?” She saw him look at the white-haired boy, appreciation written all over his face. “What is it?”

“You knew, didn’t you? That man I met was her fiancée.” Britton asked, voice shaking. “That is why you sent me to the palace library.”

Micah merely smiled at him, “The children you saved are with their mother, that you saved as well.”

Jumping off the bed, Micah bowed to Britton, “You have their eternal gratitude and mine as well.”

“I didn’t sav-“

“It is because of you your daughter lived as well,” Micah said, turning to the man as he produced a piece of paper and handed it to Micah, who gave it to the woman. “For a job well done, Britton.”

“What’s that?” Britton asked as Elizabeth clasped a hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “Elizabeth?”

“The will.” She said, voice breaking. “It is mother’s will.”