The town of Whelsing. Possessing around 10,000 people, over a quarter of them lived on the streets due to overpopulation. The buildings were separated into two categories– the first were the older ones, which tell a history of the town's once glorious days... some remain in near pristine condition, while most are a relic of the past. The second, the newer ones. They were built hurriedly, lacking any imposing figure or even safety in the worst of cases, all for the sake of having a roof over one's head. In simple terms, they were shoddy, but they were good enough.
The people weren't any better, unfortunately. Any kindness you may see from them were rarely genuine, most plotting something underneath that thin veil of good nature. Some were rude and cold, going about their day in search of targets– someone they could threaten or even kill just to earn a quick penny. Others were quiet and timid, merely hoping to make an ends meet at what they were good at... it usually didn't go so well. But a trait they all shared, be it homeless or somehow stable, was despair. Every passing day of their lives weighed increasingly heavier on their shoulders and souls alike, no matter how much they tried to hide it. It was clear to see in their eyes, growing dull and cloudy.
The weather shared some of the blame for the depressive state of the townsfolk, always bleak and cloudy. The sun barely pierced through the thick gray clouds, at times hard to tell when it was night or day. Because of this, crops were hard to obtain without luck or the use of trading. Thankfully, the livestock was plentiful, though it did lead to a strict carnivore-based diet which simply wasn't healthy... but they were thankful to have something to eat, at the very least.
This was just the state from one of the many other towns near the border of Calisk, a country that waged war with a neighboring country, Frit. Due to the nature of being so close to the battlefield, the population on either border of these countries suffered immensely; lost friends, lost families, lost homes... most lost themselves like husks with legs, aimless without a trace of hope left in them.
But with this war, opportunities raised for those who cared not for the war nor the countries at play. Those who lured underneath the shadows, unseen and unknown even from plain sight, used this chance to emerge into the outside world to carry out their plans, their desires... to spread their influence at a slow yet constant pace.
There was a dark and cold night... the moon and stars remaining ever hidden by the obscuring clouds in the sky. The townsfolk were restless in numbers; some went out with their peers to liven up their lives for the night, drinking and dancing together at whatever tavern wasn't completely full. Others were unable to sleep in the comfort of their homes, be it due to health or financial issues... while the homeless slept on the streets, freezing, starving, or a combination of the two. From the entrance of the town, two figures walked past the official yet worn down gates clad in Caliskian military uniforms, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and disgust.
"This is why I always avoid the towns... they're severely depressing to look at, let alone be in."
Spoke the taller man of the two, holding something in his arms wrapped around in a thick cloth, as if to make sure it wouldn't get too cold. The shorter but bulkier male gargled for a moment before spitting out a phlegm on the ground, showing his lack of respect about the overall situation they were in.
"Save it, boy. We just gotta do some business with the missus then hightail it outta here... can't wander around too long."
The supposed superior addressed the taller, slimmer man with a gruff, the latter of whom nodded in obedience before they continued on. Eyes were quickly set upon them by the townspeople, whose expressions ranged between tension and apprehension– the mere presence of the soldiers creating a sense of insecurity as they walked down the street.
"Ugh, there they go with the stares... can't they just mind their own business?"
"Can't blame the poor vermin. Probably thinkin' we're here to recruit their men again. Lucky for them, it ain't the time... yet. C'mon, should be around the corner."
Their brief conversation ended soon due to urgency, realizing that they were near their destination. The tall man rocked his arms from side to side gently, hearing some whimpers coming from whatever was kept wrapped around in the aforementioned cloth. They stopped in front of a seemingly abandoned house, barely standing but resisting even against the test of time. The short soldier knocked his knuckles against the wooden old door which immediately opened ajar, allowing for a single eye to peer from the inside to the soldier duo.
"Fuckin' hell– musky ass coot, almost gave me a damn heart attack..."
"It is you... do you have it with you?"
The voice from the other side of the door was raspy from old age, with a hint of desperation in their tone. The senior soldier stepped forward to present the "it", revealing a mere baby... barely a month or two old at best. The voice gasped as its eye widened in possible excitement, nearly swinging the door open to reveal itself as an older woman, seemingly around her sixties based off her sickly-looking appearance and hunched frame. Her bony, long fingers curled around the cloth to see the infant's face clearly, androgynous and innocent.
Just as the old lady was ready to embrace it, the short yet muscular soldier raised a hand to stop her in her tracks.
"Don't forget yer end of the bargain, missus."
Said missus groaned lowly, almost growling at the man before conceding. She disappeared within the darkness of her home to retrieve something, returning within a matter of seconds with a map and a compass.
"Here... with these, you will find what you seek."
"Ha... haha. Good, good."
The superior chuckled darkly, basically snatching the objects from the woman's frail hands to inspect them closely, making sure they weren't being deceived.
"With these, we can leave this country and this fuckin' war behind... don't gotta deal with this bullshit anymore."
His gaze went to the taller soldier, then tilted his head to the elderly woman, signaling his junior to complete their trade. The other man nodded to do as told, offering up the baby to her as per the agreed business. She cradled the little one close to her chest like she had birthed it, rocking her arms back and forth as the newborn cooed at the sight of the new wrinkly face.
"Pleasure doing business with you, ma'am. You've helped us a great deal."
"Yes, yes... away with you now. Do not return if you know what is good for you."
She slammed her door on their faces, the soldiers letting out their respective curses under their breaths but eventually leaving the premises. The old woman giggled to herself with glee, holding the child up in the air with her hands in reverence.
"At last... at long last! With this girl, I can produce an heir! Someone capable of learning the arts I dedicated my entire life to!"
She exalted, placing the little one on the table to undo the cloth wrapped around its body for an inspection, to see just how healthy it was. But once she saw the infant's bare form, she froze. Her eyes widened like saucers, her mouth left agape with small gasps escaping her every so often. Her hands started to tremble, and whatever color was left on her face completely drained in despair.
"No... no... how can this...?"
Her gasps turned into moans, growing in intensity until becoming wails of pure anguish. She caught herself against a nearby chair, using it as support for her aging body before grabbing it with both hands and tossing it with full force across the room. It broke apart as it collided against the wall, the noise echoing in her empty house which alerted the baby, causing it to begin crying loudly on the table.
"Those moronic pigs!! I asked for a girl, a girl! What am I to do with a useless boy?! I cannot impart my teachings to him– it is taboo!"
The old lady grasped at her own face, lamenting her situation. Her own heavy breathing was drowned out by the crying of the newborn, flailing his arms out of instinct. Her breathing slowly but surely regained control, becoming measured with a new hardened determination.
"No... no, I will not let this impede me. I will not let my legacy die out because of an insignificant boy."
Her eyes searched around the room, soon falling upon a pair of scissors... a dark idea manifesting as she retrieved them. She walked up to the still-crying infant on her table, her gaze focused on the very organs that made the boy, a "boy".
"I will produce an heir... no matter the cost."
[End of Prologue.]