Waltz of the Roses

(Author- Hello I hope you all enjoy it!)

The piercing cold of water on flesh sends shivers down the boy's spine as he curls up as close to the side of the building as he can to shelter himself. The dirt that seems to be pasted to his pale skin slowly washes away under the rain revealing many black and blue bruises.

The now-soaked rags that the boy calls cloths are stuck to his skin as he shivers, teeth rattling together involuntarily. He desperately huddles closer and closer to the brick building while trying to hide under the overhang.

Snot dripping down his face and with the cold seemingly piercing his soul the boy could feel that his death was near. His shriveled body pressed against the building. His short unkempt blond hair is caked in mud.

For the last 13 years, the boy had managed to survive like this, however, a single wrong move has sent him to death's door. He can feel his own breathing becoming more and more ragged. Each breath he takes causes the sharp pain in his ribs to worsen.

If only he hadn't tried to fight back against those Beckett boys. Nasty and vicious boys they were those two. Twin sixteen-year-old boys who knew how to handle themselves. Being the sons of the city's number one blacksmith not only gave them their massive muscles but an ego to match.

Why couldn't he just have put up with their hassling? The worst that would have happened is he loses a few coppers and gets punched once or twice. Instead, he has thrown away his life by trying to defend himself.

Slowly he feels his body start shaking as his consciousness begins to drift away. This really was the worst way to go. After a life of doing nothing but surviving, he will not even accomplish anything.

He is the true definition of failure. That's what he was. "Why must I die?" he croaks out, his voice barely managing to be coherent as he lays on the hard, wet, cold stone.

The rain suddenly fades as a warm aura enwraps him. He hears a soft and gentle voice that sounds as if it's a whisper, "There is no need for you to die today."

His eyes are barely open as he glances over towards the source of the voice and the warmth that is slowly rejuvenating his body. "Who? I have.... No money for.... Healing."

"Hush. I don't want any money. I want something different. I want your loyalty. Can you promise me that?"

As she speaks the woman walks over to his shriveled body and gently lifts his head up and pulls it into her arms. Despite barely being able to see, the boy found it nearly impossible to miss the light brown skin of the woman, along with her long silky white hair and beautiful complexion.

Throughout this whole time, the boy can feel his pain subsiding and his body mending itself. Not just the cold of the rain and wind, but also the cold of the heart that he has lived his entire life enduring slowly melts away in the woman's arms.

The moment that she asked the boy already had the answer on his lips. "Yes."

"I will ask many things from you. Things you can't possibly imagine as you are now. Knowing this will you swear yourself under the witness of the divine to be my servant? To answer my calls and heed my words no matter the cost? Even possibly at your own life?" She asks, her voice seeping into his mind.

"My life.... Is yours." The boy replies, his consciousness fading.

"Then repeat after me, darling. I ******** hereby swear my eternal loyalty to ******** The White rose."

"I ******** hereby swear my eternal loyalty to ******** The White rose."

The moment that the oath leaves his mouth, a searing heat begins to spread in a very specific pattern on his face causing him to reach up and grasp his face with his teeth gritting against each other. The searing pain however was welcome as the pain in the one spot seems to make all the aches and pains within his body far less relevant.

"What is your name boy?"

"I don't have one." He murmurs in response.

"Then I shall name you. From this moment onwards, you will be known as Cassian. Cassian of the White Rose."

"Cassian..."