Daylight Saga

"Under the stars, I'll wait for you,

Through every dream, a love so true.

A whispered song, a fleeting while,

I see forever in our smile."

Preto was sitting with a deep expression covering his face, an expression exaggerating his grief, or perhaps a longing. He sat on the floor, leaning against the gray, rough wall, battered and scratched. There was little movement in his room other than the clinging of the metallic chains on his hands, which were attached to the wall from the other end.

Preto slowly shifted his gaze from the floor to a small barred window above the white iron door, which stood aside from the darkness of the cell. His beard and hair were long and uncut for years, his blue eyes were desperate and filled with loneliness. The past 7 years had done him no good; he was all alone. His only visitor was Mr. Shin. 

Slowly, he began singing again.

"My love, 

My love—

Through every storm and sky above,

My love,

My love—

The only name I'm thinking of."

The lower slider of the metal door was rammed open from the outside, and a steel bowl was slipped inside through it by a pale, feminine hand. Then it was again slid shut from left to right. It was always the same damn meal. The saggy porridge and tasteless stew. They were the cursed heroes, hated by Preto, yet they kept him alive. "Disgusting shit," he mumbled before crawling towards the bowl.

Preto ate his portion and saved a tiny portion for his buddy.

Soon, a little rat came crawling out of a small crack in the gray wall. It was white, not very big, and absurdly cute for a mouse. "Eh! Mr. Shin, long time no see. What've you been up to?" muttered Preto, his eyes admiring the little mouse covered in stew and porridge. " Squeal! Squeal!" it squeaked. "Oh, yeah? Took on Mr. Shinto again, huh?" Preto chuckled as the rat nibbled at the stew. "Fought him and won this time, I bet. Ah, you remind me of myself back in the day. Preto the Undead—hah!" He laughed, a dry, bitter sound that died quickly, his laughter turned into rage, with the remembrance of one face, so vivid, so ingrained—flashed before his eyes. That flawless, angelic face, framed by golden hair seemed to glow with a light that never seemed to fade, no matter how many battles were fought in the dark. His eyes, those piercing, cold sapphires, always so distant, always so untouchable. Preto had seen them—felt them—countless times, watching, waiting, always calculating. There was a softness to it all, a beauty that disarmed, a tranquillity that masked the storm within. 

His chest tightened, the anger building up inside him until it felt like it was consuming him whole. That golden-haired phantom had taken everything from him. His heart. His dreams. His sword. Even the man's voice, once a thing of beauty, now only brought searing pain. He could still hear it. That laugh, that damnable laugh, echoing in the hollow spaces of his mind. It tore him apart.

The rat jumped out of the bowl and ran towards its nest. " Squeal!" it hissed.

"Yeah, yeah, you little shit," Preto muttered.

He laid his back against the wall again, staring at his hands. With a sigh and a faint smile, he started singing again, leaving the enraging face behind.

"A thousand roads may pull me far,

But in my heart, you are the star.

No time can break, no distance bind,

The soul that seeks, the love we find.

"My love,

My love—

Through every storm and sky above…"

"Every heartbeat, every sign,

Leads me back to where you shine."

Mr. Shin was in the bowl, eating his part. "Squeal." It squeaked. "You want to know about my story, don't ya??" Said Preto with a faint, sorrowful smile, with a touch of anger. "my age was 19 rounds of earth when I made my first mistake—"Preto closed his eyes, the haunting melody of his song fading into the cold silence. But the silence was never empty. It always brought him back—to that fateful spring, the day the first domino fell.

Flashback——

"Bahaha, and I thought you were invincible." A tall, ugly-looking man laughed, looking down from his horse at a beautiful blonde man fallen on the ground. "It was just the pretty face then, Bahaha." The man laughed.

"You are under the impression that you've won? Not so fast, Count," said a man from behind. It was Preto, short, dark auburn hair and a lean, muscular build. He wore a golden plate armour with ornate detailing over chainmail, exuding nobility and strength. In his hand, he held a long, slender sword, its polished blade catching the light. His poised stance against a sunset sky suggests a moment between reflection and battle.

"And 'ere comes the other damn cunt." Said Count Clove as he turned his horse to face the man, rolling his eyes in disgust. "You think you can kill me, to save that pretty friend of yours? You spoiled brat if only I had the higher rank, your head would've been rolling in my feet." He said.

"I am not going to kill you, Renard because you're dead already!" Preto chuckled.

"What?" said Count Renard Clove in confusion, and before he could realize the meaning of his words, a sword slashed his shoulder from behind. "Ahhhh" The count screamed, and drove his horse forward, running away, the sword still stuck near his left armpit. "Ahhh, you deceiving fucks, you have no honour! You will pay for all your doing, you golden shit!" The Count barked in pain. 

"Honor?" Preto had spat the word once. "It's a blade dulled by deceit, sharpened only when wielded by those who know nothing of truth."

"I'll soon meet you and your father! Little Duke! Ahhh" He said looking at Preto, and he ran away on his horse towards the west.

"You couldn't finish him! You weakling," Preto chuckled.

"You're laughing! We're in serious trouble, Preto," said the blonde man.

"Calm yourself, Alex. I am the ducal heir. He can not even touch me. You know that, hah." Preto chuckled again.

"And I'm just the second son of a baron." He said, looking Preto in the eye. "He will have my head cut off." He said.

"He could've done that already if I hadn't saved you." 

"You don't understand, Preto. I'm in trouble." 

"I will stand in front of you, do not worry!" said Preto with an assuring smile. "Maybe you should not have screwed his wife in the first place, bahaha" Preto laughed. 

"You know I didn't do that!" he snapped in anger.

"Then you're not at fault, don't worry."

"Now, Step forward, Count Renard Clove of Old Barn," said the Summoner of Imperial Court. 

"Your Majesty," the Count bowed in front of the Emperor, his left side of the arm separated and covered in bandages.

"Count, what horror has befallen you? Your left side…" The Emperor Lucius Vulpine said with a look of pity on his face.

"My wife was raped and dishonoured by Alexander Asellus, the second son of Baron Möbius Asellus. In pursuit of vengeance, I defeated him. He was on my feet when Preto Snowfell, heir to Joltenheim, showed up. I was then deceived by them and attacked from behind. I stand in your supreme presence in the pursuit of justice."

The emperor whispered to his advisor standing next to him, an old yet muscular fellow with gray hair and purple eyes. He whispered back to the emperor, both nodded, and the old man left outside through the exit on the right. "Justice will prevail, my Count, I will summon both of the accused to the imperial court for the trial. 'Til then, you are very welcome to reside in the guest tower of the imperial residence." The emperor said. 

"Thank you, Your Majesty," the Count said, bowing down.