Azraq finds himself lost in thought as he walks home that day. His raincoat covers his armored form, leaving a menacing silhouette. Rain droplets begin to patter onto the cobblestone streets of Vale, drowning out the city noise. His mind wanders as his surroundings blur. His eyes grow hazy as he sees something long since passed.
***
"Hey Az, whatcha thinkin' about?" Az turns to look at the speaker. It's a small child of about twelve, with bright blond hair and green eyes. A lazy smile rests on his face as he leans back on the old mattress in the room. Az turns back to the window. Steel bars keep him from the vibrant outside world.
Wide tarps cover entire streets, shading people from the endless sun. Merchants shout their wares from stalls lining the streets into the horizon. The crowds are so dense that the dirt roads are hardly visible from the colosseum walls. Az notices how people's eyes glow when they spot something interesting. Children skip along the street, holding their parents' hands with wide smiles.
Merchants keep watch with careful eyes, emotionless smiles plastered on their faces, meant only to ensure the purchase of their wares. Finally, Azraq notices how, occasionally, a person will glance in his direction, in the Colosseum's direction, and twist into unrestrained glee.
Azraq turns away from the window and back to his friend, responding, "Nothing." Perhaps noticing his friend doesn't buy it, he changes the subject. "Are you ready for your Ludi? I hear they're putting you up against a bull this time."
"Bah! It's always the same; luckily, I'm a Bestiarius, so I don't have to interact with those stinky guys. How about you? I hear you moved up a division after what happened last time."
"It's of no concern, I'd rather not fight children anyway."
The boy snorts, exaggeratedly looking a 10-year old Azraq up and down, before commenting, "Yeah, whatever you say, you brat. What are you going to do about your sword? I heard it got bent in your last event."
"I think I'm going to keep it. I figured out a neat way to take advantage of it, so I'm hoping it'll serve as a surprise. It'll also help to have a weapon no one's used to."
"That's smart. Man, am I glad I don't have to deal with that. Animals aren't as complicated, so I don't have to worry about them tricking me, lying to me, or betraying me. I think there's a beauty in the purity of my fights, in the battle between man and beast, the most primitive struggle for survival."
Azraq snorts as he hears the boy's humble bragging, "Some man you are, about a quarter the size of every beast you fight."
"Hey! I'm only twelve! Just watch, I'll be as tall as Rufus, and then I'll laugh at how short you'll be." The boy smiles softly, then lets out a sigh, before asking in a somber tone. "Hey Azraq, do you think you'll ever get out of here?"
Azraq glances over at his friend. He notices the desperation behind those simple words. "I know I'll get out of here. No matter what it takes, no matter how many people stand in my way, I'm getting free, and if I ever feel the need for a pain in the ass, I'll take you with me."
The boy smiles wryly, the humor breaking through his dark mood. He forces a smile back onto his face and confidence into his voice as he announces, "Damn right! I'm getting out of here too, no beast too small, no task too tall! I will slaughter even a Grimm on the path to my freedom!"
"Isn't it 'no beast too tall, no task too small'?"
"Well, I'd rather boost my chances where I can. No point in making things harder for myself."
Azraq lets out a chuckle at the sheer sincerity behind the boy's words. He then goes over to his mattress and sits down, back against the stone wall of their shared cell. He closes his eyes for a second and imagines himself outside the colosseum, walking down the market, taking in the breeze on his skin and the soft sunlight that peeks through the covered streets.
He imagines himself holding his parents' hands, a wide smile on his face as he skips along the street, occasionally handed a treat by his parents. With an eager look on his face, Azraq turns to look at the figure holding his hand…and sees nothing but a blur, a vague shape based on the parents he'd seen in the market down below, but nothing uniquely belonging to him.
Frustration overtakes Azraq as the vision shatters, his eyes snapping open, fists clenching, as a growl escapes his throat.
"You can't imagine them, can you. Same here, honestly, pretty much the same story for every kid in this dusty old place. Parents sold them, sold by relatives, or captured out in the boonies." Azraq looks up to see his friend staring at the ceiling, voice monotone as if simply stating immutable facts.
Azraq's voice lowers into a snarl as he snaps, "My parents didn't sell me! I was born here."
"Luckier than most, then. As for me, I got sold by my own folks…I remember them saying sorry, apologizing with tears, and giving me reasons for why they did it. I remember the whole conversation, the sound of their voice, even that damned voice of my buyer. What I can't remember is how they looked; it's like I know I should remember, but for some reason I can't. I can't even hate them, y'know, I mean I get why they did it, sucks that I got the short end of the straw but I don't blame them."
Azraq's snarl quickly disappears as he grows guilty. He takes a deep breath to calm down before apologizing. "Sorry, I got too caught up in my own head."
"No worries, Az, must be that shark in you. I wonder how Faunus came about. Did someone just look at a fish one day and say, 'Smash.'"
"Aaaand this conversation is officially over. Good night." Azraq lies down on his mattress, back facing his cellmate as he closes his eyes. He can hear his friend grumbling behind him.
"What do you mean, goodnight, it's like three in the afternoon."
Azraq smiles as he takes another deep breath. He then calls out while remaining in his position. "Hey Berilo…thanks."
"No problem, Az, just remember you owe me half your dessert as payment for my therapy…Hey Az, you heard me right? I'm not kidding, I gambled away my last two desserts."
Azraq stays still, as he is asleep and cannot hear dumbasses when asleep.
***
The loud roar of a motorcycle breaks Azraq out of his memories, the noise drowning out all thought as he flinches and turns to face the perpetrator. He manages to catch the receding taillight of a yellow motorcycle as it zooms down the street at full throttle.
Azraq then looks around him and realizes…he has no clue where he is. He had just continued walking while daydreaming, but his muscle memory failed him.
"Weeell, shoot." Azraq tries to see if any nearby stores are open, but the entire neighborhood seems eerily empty. All the lights are off, and he can't detect the usual background noise of the city. He focuses a little more and catches the faint sound of what sounds like club music. He looks down the street and sees lights glowing from behind a couple of buildings. Oddly enough, it's in the same direction the motorcycle went. With a shrug, Azraq starts walking.