Diego Lied

"So… Uh, you want me to believe that you are already dead. But is actually alive and is from a magical land called Phulas. And that you are also a treasure hunter who wishes to recruit me to help you find this dubious treasure that can supposedly grant any of our wishes? Ah! And it can apparently kill us too! I wonder. What could possibly go wrong? Haha. Did I miss anything?" George recalled what Diego said one by one. And now that he spoke it out loud, he was convinced nothing's more ridiculous than this.

"Exactly! And I promise to split the treasure in half with you. If you wish, I can even make a blood oath in the presence of a warlock so I'll die if I cheated or deliberately put you to harm." Diego was getting excited the more he spoke, his voice getting higher and higher. George can feel a headache building up the more he listens.

"Wait! Stop! Stop! Hold it there. Give me a few seconds of silence." George hushed him as he massaged his temples. 'What have I gotten myself into?' he lampooned internally.

Not that he didn't believe in him. He can turn any living to dust with just a mere touch. If anything, a place where people like him exist made a lot of sense.

But...

"I'm sorry. I must be losing my sanity from skipping meals these days, thinking about magical folks and warlocks and pirates and stuff. Let me sleep for a bit." George said before he laid down on the bermuda grass.

He didn't want to keep his hopes up so he'd rather pretend this whole conversation never happened. He hoped that when he opened his eyes, Diego's no longer there so he could pretend it was just his mind messing with him.

But Diego shook him and made him sit back. "C'mon, George. None of what I said are lies. They're all real so please, listen to me first. Here and now. I'll prove it to you. I swear."

George opened his eyes. His green eyes peered at Diego. Resignation and madness reflected in them. Then he let out a self deprecating laugh.

"Haha. You know what? When I was a kid, I found out my family was cursed, born with abilities that could possibly bring world destruction. Wait! Did I even tell you how I killed my own mom when I was still seven months inside her womb? Turning her to dust and all and how my father loathes me for that?"

Diego became speechless. He didn't expect George to suddenly tell him about his life story. He was told people with great powers are the loneliest. And hearing George made him want to believe that somehow.

"All my life, I was hated by my father. But you know what? I hated myself too. That's why I ran away when my father went overboard and slapped me for just going outside. Diego. I was just in the garden. I wasn't even outside the gate so did he really have to slap me for that? But... Heh! Look at me! I became homeless after bragging I can take care of myself and it's only been four days!" George continued.

"Everybody keeps their distance from me and I have to wear these friggin' gloves all the time lest I cause chaos in our villa. Nobody hates me more than I hate myself, you know? And now you're telling me that—that there's this treasure that could grant any wishes? Really? So, uh... Say, Diego. Can it grant me my wish too? Can it break my family's curse?"

And for the first time since he was seven, George began to hope again. A feeling he has forgotten a long time ago.

Diego's chest began to constrict. It wouldn't be a lie to say he envied George a little. He thought if he was born with such an overpowered ability then he'd surely put it to good use.

He will do great things and achieve unbelievable feats. He will dominate the high seas and create his own crew and together, they will travel the world to discover stuff humankind has yet to discover.

But he couldn't say the same after seeing George's face. He was like a kid yearning for a parent's love. Like a dog hoping to be told a good boy for doing simple tricks.

He simply can't.

He simply can't say that the wish-granting treasure was just a legend circulating around tavern folks. And that he wasn't even sure the map he had was genuine. That he was just a wannabe treasure hunter who wanted to prove a point.

Yet…

"Of course, it can."

…he couldn't bring himself to tell the truth.

***

At the luxury villa on the east coast of Bonaville. A man with graying hair and beard combed to perfection was sitting on his terrace. Wearing a white waistcoat and black tail-coat and trousers. His green eyes scrutinizing his oldest son who was walking towards him from the gate. 'I suppose it's about time,' he thought.

Henry Dickman. That's his name.

"Owen, my son. What did you find out?" He asked.

"Father," Owen greeted as he kissed his father's right hand. A Bonavillian custom of showing respect to their parents. "I'm afraid that foolish brother of mine just did something horrible." Owen's expression was grave.

"Wha—"

Henry couldn't finish his sentence when Owen shoved a small box at him.

"Found that at Elmwood Drive. I'm sure you'll recognize it."

Henry opened the box. There was nothing spectacular inside it. Just a handful of dust. But unlike normal dust, this one is coarse and heavier and sparkles a little when hit with the right amount of light.

He was very familiar with it. So intimately familiar.

His right hand balled, his jaws clenched. And Owen unconsciously stepped back. He had seen his father became angry in the past and he never liked it once.

Henry growled and his eyes turned all white. And almost immediately, two Dobermans came, wagging their tails.

Like his son, Henry also has a frightening ability. He can control animals regardless of breed and size.

Some say his ability was rather soft compared to his siblings, but it is not something to scoff at. He killed a person when he was just nine by sending swarms of wasps while the poor boy was taking a shit.

"Find that foolish son of mine," he commanded the dogs before wearing his top hat.

"Where are you going, father?" Owen asked.

"I'll need to talk to your aunt."