[Hiding]

The sky was a deep and foreboding light blue tone, with clouds that seemed to twist endlessly in all directions.

Escaping or hiding, their aggravation was profound...

It was an unusual day, where the air was charged with electricity and the wind gave off a chilling energy that seemed to crackle and sizzle on contact.

Her bare skin was the first victim. With a deep breath, she let her thoughts escape.

The trees stood tall and still, their twisted and gnarled branches producing sighs from countless poets.

He was not cold but neither was he hot. The leaves did not fly, and his sight was lost. Time seemed to stand still.

He predicted that it was going to be a dull day....

The grass was dry and brittle, crunching underfoot with a resounding clatter, which seemed to be heard constantly in the silence.

He walked quietly around his garden. Enjoying the idle morning.

The sun hung low in the sky, not very bright yellow, providing vengeful solace to the dead flowers.

Some of his flowers were dead, some were not...

The sunlight was dim and sickly, casting long, distorted shadows across the landscape.

Like a small child, he enjoyed observing and manipulating the shadows, as if it were lawless territory. The master of an anarchic world.

The atmosphere was oppressive, with a sense of foreboding that seemed to weigh on the shoulders. It was a day that felt like it belonged to the sea, mouth salting and soaked in seaweed.

Her breakfast time came early. It did not stand out for ostentation, but it held enough nutrients.

As the day progressed, the sky darkened under huge clouds, which became menacing as they captivated and contained.

Federick was squatting and playing with stones. His childishness was highlighted by his innocent smile, as the stones sparked from the continuous collision.

His hands were dirty and his fingernails were caked with dirt.

Like a whistle, the wind was accompanied by an instrument, which provided a low, mournful sound that seemed to come from the depths of the earth.

Suddenly, his eyes darkened. He saw neither the impact nor the sparks, no longer reflecting on the scene.

"Oh, my little Federick.

Like prisoners banging on bars, Federick released his thoughts at the intervention of his unmistakable Mother.

There, it was when he observed from his lower position, the dimples that belonged to his mother. Occasioned by her smile full of purity.

"Mother!" Federick greeted she with an affectionate hug, squeezing her warm flesh.

With only the difference of decades, the two equally smiled jovially. Immortalizing the shared moment in the flesh.

"Look! You are still a naive and careless kid... My little Fe." Perla said looking at her son's face.

It was dirty, dirt soaked into his pale skin. Gently and patiently, she wiped Federick's face using the sleeves of her plum-white robe.

"Come on, first go and bathe and get ready. Today we will participate together in the party organized by the Clarent family. Aren't you excited?" Perla communicated pleasantly and charismatically.

Federick could only watch his mother's face. Her excitement was clear and he was afraid of being infected.

So he withdrew from his garden with a busy schedule. The two figures left him, wistfully as they shared smiles. Leaving a jovial scene.

And brittle stones.

The trees creaked and groaned, their branches swaying and twisting in the wind. As if they wanted to formulate their smile composed of dry roots.

A carriage was heading outside between winding roads. It bounced occasionally from stones, but it stood upright with a purpose.

Inside were two glamorously dressed individuals. A woman and a child.

The smile was perpetuated on Federick's face. Dressed in a hot red outfit.

His hands constantly caressed his thighs, bewildered and itchy.

Like a horny mare.

The laughs came and went, the comments were constant and the occasional jokes. The huge laughs, the comments turned into talk and the repertoire of jokes was being eaten away.

Laughter, comments and jokes. Laughter, talk and jokes.

Like a horny mare.

The itching was increasing, and little by little his zipper was open.

Falling into a vortex...

They had finally arrived.

Despite the peculiarity of the day, it was not enough to confront the needs and chores of the people.

Businesses opened, with the constant coming and going of different people.

The party went smoothly. Federick congratulated the organizer, danced and had fun.

I practice different party activities. Where he received horrible results.

According to the results, fencing was not his thing...

But occasionally he felt a haunting look over his shoulders. Light and short, but constant.

He recognized the fact that he was not a handsome adult to receive the looks of the ladies.

The conclusion ended in that it was a terrifying day but strangely overwhelming at the same time, a day that seemed to hold secrets.

"I found you". He uttered in a whisper in the shadows.

[Arked Mercateth: Descendant and heir of the noble Mercateth family. A cunning and scheming young man, with slight talent.

Lately he is stressed by his strict father and his constant reminder about Federick, heir to the Battlemman family. He harbors negative emotions about yourself... Probable lobotomy]

Long, slender fingers began to make the piano scream.