Chapter 20. Would You Like to Serve Under Me?

That night, Willow reminisced her past. What was her life like when she was merely a child... before she met Lucilline, and what her life was like afterwards.

*****

A petal drifted down from a peach blossom tree. The fragrance of sweet and mellow jasmine had danced in the air. A wisp of wind blew, and the leaves shuffled.

There was a young little girl.

Her hair was white, like the feathers of a snowy dove. Her body was small yet agile, and she laid nonchalantly underneath the peach blossom tree. It was spring. The animals had all revealed themselves from their hibernation spots, and fled to enjoy the radiance of the sun.

Willow was of no exception.

The feeling of the sunlight shining against her skin—it warmed her, and calmed down the waves in her jittery heart. The scent of the peach blossoms had drowned her, it made her stuck in an endless loop of freshness. She had never felt any closer to the skies and earth than now.

"Willow!" A cry erupted from the wooden house nearby.

"Coming!" Willow yelled back.

She flipped up from the ground, and dashed towards her residence. It was a shabby house. The roof were made of wooden planks, but throughout the years, the wood had deteriorated into mere shambles. Willow had to smear moss all over the corners in order to prevent any leakage. Who knows what'll happen during bad weather.

"There you are." A woman in the early 30s had laughed. She was seated in a wooden chair, which croaked ever time she shuffled. "Willow, go check up on your younger brother."

Willow huffed, dissatisfied. "Mother, all you ever care about is him! What about me? I'm your firstborn child!"

Her mother just laughed. "Stop complaining, Willow. At least, your younger brother goes to visit the orchard and picks a few fruits to bring back home. Look at you—" She paused, with her eyes scanning on the frail little girl. "All you know to do everyday is just lying around under the tree. If I wasn't your mother, I might've thought that you were raised by tree fairies."

"Thanks."

Her mother's voice turned stern. "That wasn't a compliment!"

Willow had inherited the white hair from her mother. Although her mother used to be despised and was thought of as a curse due to the weird hair colour, gradually, the villagers understood and no longer looked at her with disrespectful eyes.

Willow understood the conflicts which her mother went through.

She wanted to help. "I can hunt us fish. We will have meat to eat every night!" Willow thought that her idea was perfect.

"Your younger brother is allergic to fish." Her mother rolled her eyes.

Willow, "..." Her perfect idea was shattered in merely one second.

"If you want to be helpful, go and fetch your younger brother back!" Her mother sighed. "I've cut some honey dew for the both of you. When you come back, eat the honey dew together with your brother."

At the mention of honey dew, Willow leaped up in excitement. "Yay! I love eating whatever mother makes!" She danced around the house, twirling around the tables and chairs.

Her mother pinched Willow's cheeks and laughed, "You little glutton."

"Release me!" Willow laughed playfully.

"I will only release you if you promise me to find your brother for me! He's been gone for a long time... I wonder if he's doing alright..." Her mother fell into a deep contemplation.

"Okay okay! Just release me already...!" Willow squirmed.

Her mother released her cheeks, and hurriedly, Willow ran off to find her younger brother. Her village was situated in the countryside, where flowers and plants could be seen wherever she ventured, like a pack of moths drawn to light.

When Willow found her younger brother, it was already sunset.

Her younger brother inherited the same white hair as her and her mother. His eyes were a beautiful colour of amethyst purple. "Azalea," Willow huffed. "Do you know how long it took for me to find you? Don't tell me that you were purposely hiding away from me..."

All of a sudden, she halted in her words.

For some reason, her younger brother wasn't talking. "Azalea...?"

Willow was fast. She quickly grabbed Azalea by the shoulders, and examined his face. There were obvious red marks and bruises whipped across his cheeks. "Were you beaten up again?"

Willow's face turned cold. "If you ever encounter those bullies again, do as what I've said before... Stay brave and kick them in the fucking nuts!"

Azalea flinched.

He timidly looked at his older sister, "...if mother knew you swore, you would be the one being kicked in the nuts-"

"Urgh! Shut up!" Willow huffed. "Tell me who bullied you! I will beat them up for you!"

Silence descended upon the two siblings.

Azalea had bowed his head. Willow was unable to discern the expression on his face—as his white locks of fluffy hair had blocked his eyes.

The air was stagnant.

"Say something already..." Willow fumed.

Slowly, Azalea lifted his head. Instead of seeing her originally timid younger brother, Willow saw a shard of determination in those amethyst purple eyes.

"Big sister, don't deal with them." Azalea deadpanned. "They're mine."

Willow was stunned. Her younger brother was always timid and fearful of the crowds. This was the first time he showed such a brave and courageous side of him...

"I like your attitude!" Willow heartily laughed. "Then you better beat them up thoroughly! Make sure they don't get any backup... it's gotta be a one-on-one fight! If not, then they're just cowards! Oh- and have you learned all of the techniques I taught you? I know that they're a lot to memorize... but trust me, they're quite handy when you're in the middle of combat."

Azalea, "..." He thought that his older sister would object him fighting. Who knew...

"Let's go find those bullies tomorrow!" Willow huffed, determinedly. "Big sister will make sure you get your justice! Oh... right, mother wants us back home to eat honey dew!"

Without waiting for her younger brother to react, Willow directly pulled him up from the grassy field.

"Let's go! We shouldn't let mom wait for too long!"

Azalea's amethyst purple eyes reflected the sweet smile of his older sister. The sun was setting, spreading its undying flames across the horizon. The skies were the canvas of a miracle art piece. Azalea wanted to engrave this momentary peace into his mind—into his eyes, so that he'd never forget the sight of true familial love.

"Let's go!" He cheered.

Too bad that he forgot it all after that incident.

*****

Next thing she knew, Willow was stranded in a pool of blood. Huh?

Her mind felt empty. All she could see was a barrage of endless red—so red, she was blinded by the pungent and metallic taste. Fire was set to the village, and smoke clogged her nose. She was strangled and threatened by the horrendous smell. Is this a true calamity...?

"Take all the children! Don't let any of them escape!" An unfamiliar adult man's vice had rung in the distance.

Willow could barely pull herself back together.

The stench of her parent's torn bodies had devoured all of her senses... paralyzing her on the spot. Her home was shabby—but it was always a place of love and peace. How did this all happen..?

"Help!" The scream of a little girl had ripped through the blood-bound skies.

"My mother! She isn't breathing!"

"I'm scared!"

"Where are you taking me!" Children were torn away from their parents' corpses. No matter how loud they cried, no matter how terrible of a fuss they made, they could no longer regain that position next to their loved ones.

All of a sudden, Willow flinched.

Her younger brother's eyes had reddened and went puffy. He couldn't control his own cries and pleas. Azalea was next to his older sister, crying and begging his parents to wake up.

Willow wanted to tell him that they will never wake up again. They won't be saved. Nobody will help them.

The pungent smoke was contagious. The more that Willow breathed it in, the harder she found herself holding onto her last consciousness. How horrible. These adult men were murderers.

"Don't struggle!" A burly man pulled at a young boy. "Once you become an obedient slave and find yourself a master, you will live a life surrounded by riches and the nobility! We will also gain a huge profit from it! Isn't this a win-win situation?" His bloodshot eyes seemed to be able to direct all of the most frightful fears into the most fragile creature—a child.

Just hearing this made Willow sick. They're slave traders. These adult men kill parents, then kidnap the children to sell them onto the leave market. They earn money through that way.

She came back to herself.

In front of her was a burly old man. His face made Willow feel disgusting to the core. Every bone and marrow inside of her had puked at this sight. This old man's ashen face splattered in blood will forever be scarred into her memories.

This old man carried a machete. He killed their parents. He wanted to bring them away.

Willow pushed Azalea.

The younger brother collapsed onto the floor, shocked. "Sister-"

"Go! Run away right now! The further the better!" Willow continued to shove her younger brother, making sure that he'd at least get through the back door.

Azalea was hesitant. "No, I don't want to go anywhere without you! Sister-"

"Don't call me that!" Willow had no idea how her voice became so cold—so frightening. Just hearing it had brought Azalea chills to his spine. "If you don't follow my instructions, then don't you ever dare to call me sister again!"

Who knew how long it took. But in the end, Azalea ran away.

Good. Willow thought.

When those adult bastards went to chase after the running boy, Willow stepped in their way. She went feral—akin to a beast. Her small figure was thrown towards them. On her fours, Willow scratched at them with her long nails. If it did not hurt them enough, she'd go low enough to bite them. She relished the taste of their metallic blood, lingering in her mouth.

She sharpened her teeth, wishing to tear through every single one of those impure adults—

Good things do not last long.

Willow and the remaining children were taken away. Their wills were stripped away from them. They were sold to a slave market, where even worse people could be found.

Willow felt sick to the stomach.

She remembered the greed written across the noblemen's faces, as they increased the bidding price to purchase them. The feeling of chains had shackled Willow's limbs. She was exhausted. She wanted it all to stop...

The only time Willow had her mind at peace was when she remembered... her younger brother escaped. He didn't have to suffer through the same things she did. That made her feel at ease.

She was purchased by an astounding nobleman.

Willow did not understand what services slaves needed to do. However, her master was a good person. He did not abuse her. He did not hit her. He even fed her food. Willow thought that if things were like this everyday, she would accept it-

That was until her master came up to her with a case of needles, and bottles of injections.

"What is this?" Willow asked.

Her master took a mediocre slave by his side, then injected the drug. Willow watched that slave struggle, trying to escape from their master's stronghold.

They couldn't.

Their face paled and drained of colour. From white to green, from green to red, from red to purple, and purple to blue. Finally, they died.

"What a pity. I was hoping this experiment to be successful." Her master sighed. His eyes then turned on Willow. "Won't you help me?" It was not a request, it was an order.

Willow could not count how many times she witnessed a slave die from the drugs.

She was scared—she did not want to die. She wanted to survive.

Perhaps, it was because of that undying will that she became the perfect experiment.

"Amazing! I knew that these drugs can become something if used correctly!" Her master had cried aloud in joy. "Now that you've been injected, you have super strength that goes against all logic, and keen senses that is unparalleled to even the most wildest creatures! This is the outcome I was looking for!"

Willow blinked twice. She did not react, and directly snapped her master's head off of his neck.

Escape! She fled from hell, and wandered on the streets. Nobody can know that I'm his murderer! I have to survive... find Azalea... and live!

She collapsed onto the streets.

After going through so much stress, her adrenaline had finally ran out. All she could feel was as if something shackled her feet—as if she was a slave all over again.

Willow lifted her head.

She met the contempt eyes of noblemen. That's right. No matter where she goes, commoners will forever be seen as slaves in the eyes of noblemen. She is a commoner sold on the slave market. There is no way she will ever get rid of those shackles-

"Hmm? What is this?" A wondrous voice snapped Willow out of her daze.

There was a beautiful young boy, just a few years younger than her. His hair was raven black, parallel to spilt ink on blank pages. It was long and straight, reaching down to the middle of his spine. Willow held her breath. This young boy's face was unblemished, like as if he was carved out from pure jade.

His eyes flashed golden... with gentleness.

Willow could hardly believe her eyes. This was the first time she'd ever felt like the sun actually warmed her—ever since the parting of her and what she'd known.

"You're injured." The young boy saw the wounds on Willow's forearm, where she'd been injected thousands of times.

"My name is Lucilline Rubius. Would you like to serve under me?"

Willow did not hesitate to reach for the shining sun.

She went on-board the nobleman's carriage. It was warm and comfortable. The cushions were plump, and Willow couldn't help but sink into them. The material was cozy, and perfect for travelling. When the horses began to guide the carriage, Willow could feel the wheels roll.

She sat to the left of Lucilline.

Before she knew, her head plopped on the child's left shoulder, and she'd fallen asleep.

"Don't let the children escape!"

"Kill all the adults!"

"Set the village on fire!"

"Take all the children! Sell them as slaves! We will become rich after this!" The glee of disgusting greedy men had resounded through the burning village. What was home before had been burnt to mere ashes.

"No one will save you!"

Willow struggled on the chair. Her limbs were shackled to the chair, and no matter how hard she moved, those metal chains would still remain on her, as if burning through her skin. Needles after needles were injected into her forearm, and Willow could feel every change of her body. She felt the drugs running through her veins, with her adrenaline racing to every crook and cranny.

Willow gasped for air. Why is this happening to me? Why are they doing this... I want it to stop... In order to stop it, I will have to kill them!

Kill!

She woke up to a start.

Sweat had broke out from her forehead. Willow's chest heaved up and down. There was a bubbled anger inside of her, threatening to break out from her chest. Her eyes flickered over to look at Lucilline, the child, who was still sleeping in the carriage soundlessly.

In order to live, I need to kill him-

Her left hand went straight for the child's neck-

All of a sudden, Willow stopped in her tracks. As if alerted by the sound, Lucilline's small body shuffled as he groaned sleepily. Subconsciously, his tiny little hands fell over on top of Willow's spare right hand, patting it gently, as if comforting others was natural in his blood.

Willow felt the warm contact. The little boy—who should be at least three years younger than her—was comforting her subconsciously in his sleep.

The frail little girl felt her eyes sting. Her nose did not seem to work, as if something clogged it. Slowly, tears began to gush out from her eyes. Willow did not dare to wake up the little nobleman.

In fact, she only wished for this momentary comfort to last forever.