"Hold his face up, yes," one kid ordered. A group of boys were in an alley, four in number, but it wouldn't seem like a regular playdate between children of their age. Normally, you would expect eight- and nine-year-olds of nobility to be playing pretend knights with sticks as swords and wooden planks as shields and maybe a cape to feel more real, but that wasn't even close to what was happening here. You may say the event was somewhat similar because three of the four boys were armed with sticks, holding them as weapons, but this was not your regular pretend knight; this was straight up an execution.
"You heard the man," one of the other boys said as they lifted the victim up, resting his arms around their shoulders. The defenseless boy's face was already designed with different shades of red; you could even spot some blacks and purples, even some green if you looked really closely. The unfortunate prey looked at his predators—they say lions hunt and devour in groups; this was a perfect illustration. One look and he could tell they were ready to batter more sense into his face. The king of the den hands tightly gripped the sword, preparing for a massive swing—the final attack, you might call it.
"Please... I'm sorry... I wouldn't... I wouldn't come close to you ever again. I promise," one last hopeless cry; his face drenched with tears and sweat all dripping down his chin.
"I, the great mage, hereby cleanse the school from commoner filth. You will do well to regret your existence."
"Leave him alone, you bastards!" A loud voice came from the entry of the alley. A young boy, same age as all of them, came running like his life depended on it, his eyes red and teary, his voice loud and cracked.
"Leave my brother alone!" he said, launching himself into the air, positioning mid-air for a kick. Planning to strike at his brother's oppressor, his boots connected. The pretend knight couldn't see it coming; his face was already jammed with someone's feet. It was painless at the point of contact, but just one second later he felt it at his cheek. The impact led to drops of saliva spilling from his mouth followed by a couple of teeth flying off—three if we are being precise. It was accompanied by fragments of gums and some spillage of blood.
"Aaaargh!" he shouted, blood gushing out of his mouth and nose. "That hurt!" he let out a loud cry. "Beat that bastard; make him pay!" he demanded like a spoiled brat, and his two lackeys tossed their former target and focused on the new one.
"You've messed up big time, Elric," one sprouted out.
"Yeah, we will beat you till you apologize," the other responded.
"God, you two sound so cringe. Did you pick up a book called 'Bullying for Beginners' from the floor or something? Step up your game, man; honestly, I'm quite disappointed actually," Elric said.
"Shut up, you... you antelope."
"God, you lack creativity. No wonder he is in charge," he said, pointing at Ralph—their leader.
"That's none of your business," one of the lackeys shouted.
"Why the sudden tough act so suddenly? You were crying when you came running, you big baby."
"Good, you are getting better; still some room for improvement," he sighed. "Anyways, if you were smart enough, you would have known I'm not here to fight. I am just here to stall." A very nasty smirk found its way onto his face. "And my job should be done right about now!"
"What in the world is going on here?" an old man with white long beards said as he made his way into the alley. By his side was Tasha, a young girl with black hair, Dorian and Elric's friend.
"Dorian!" she shouted; she ran towards him, tears flowing down her. One look at Dorian's condition could make anyone cry. She gripped him tightly, pressing his face to her chest, not thinking whether the firm embrace could cause more pain. "You're safe now," she said, trying so hard to console him, make him feel safe. "It's okay; nothing is going to happen."
"To my office!" the principal ordered.
"Huh," one boy questioned.
"It was Ralph; he told us to do..."
"Shut up, you idiot," the other boy replied. "Being scared for nothing—they can't punish us for putting a commoner in his..."
"You shut up," Ralph replied. "Are you trying to get us in more trouble? Let's go." He took a death glare at Elric. "You'll pay for this, Elric; I swear," he murmured as he picked up his teeth that were scattered on the floor. "You'll pay for..."
"In a few seconds from now, I don't think I will have the same constraints or patience I have now. If you boys care the slightest about your physical well-being, I advise you don't make me repeat myself: office NOW!" You could pick a little tone of provocation from his voice; his presence had suddenly changed. He released a little of his animous aura—pure blood lust—which felt heavy for all of them.
"Yes, Principal!" they chorused, running in terror.
After they fled, Theranor stopped his aura from leaking; it was just for the intent to frighten them a little, but it did its job too well. Dorian, Elric, and Mia were petrified, but it seemed like they slowly got relieved.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Theranor gave a comforting smile; the mood had suddenly changed from overwhelming fright to heartwarming bliss. Theranor had his way with controlling the mood. He glanced at Dorian with empathy; how could they torment someone so much?
"Are you all right?" He placed his hand on Dorian's shoulder, which made him feel relieved, as if a fog had been lifted up his chest.
"Y... yes, I'm okay; I'm okay now," he repeated multiple times as he sobbed. "I was so scared. Thank you, thank you."
"Elric," the principal turned to his direction, "that was very brave and smart of you. And you, Mia."
He patted her. "Thanks for getting me; you really are kind," he smiled proudly. "Let's get you to the clinic."
"No!" Elric shouted suddenly. "I want Mom to see him like this. I want her to see what he is going through," he revolted; his voice was shaky, like it was about to break, with his eyes both fiery and sober.
"That is thoughtful of you, Elric; your mom has the right to see her son's bruises." He held Elric. "But what about Dorian? He is still hurt, in pain. Do you want him to bear that till your mother gets back? Now that's selfish—the good type, don't get me wrong—but we need to ease his pain and heal him." He paused. "And your mom also—don't you think it might be best not to worry her so much? She is already going through enough." Silence filled the air. Elric was not very happy to accept this, but he knew this was the hard truth.
"I don't just like seeing him like this," he murmured; his voice cracked more and more. "I don't want him to be in so much pain. It's just not fair?" He paused. "And I am just totally useless; I can't even help him."
"That's not what I'm seeing, and I am definitely sure that is also not what they are seeing. You put yourself at risk to save your brother, and I am not going to tell you something like 'it's going to be okay' because I know it's not. But what I do know is no matter what happens, you will both face it together, and that is enough." He stood up and dusted his robe. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have unfinished business in my office." He went on his way, but before he left the alley, he said,
"Dorian, don't expect Elric to save you every time. Try your best and get stronger, not only to avoid needing protection but also to protect everything and everyone you hold dear. This life is not fair, but I believe in you."
He left.