CH. 1

It was said that black signifies death.

Everything black of color is cursed.

Black cat-

Crows -

Black clothes-

The cursed-

The wicked-

And sometimes it signifies and end.

Then, there's white.

The color of pureness.

The blessed-

The light-

Everything white is good.

White butterflies-

White dove-

White clothes-

But do they really?

Colors does not defy one's existence.

It doesnt matter if its white, black or red.

It's all the same.

To the eyes, as crimson as the red moon, owned by the man with the whitest hair. An Albino, called by the people of the old. . .

The scene before his eyes is nothing but the same.

With his crimson red eyes, white hair and equally white skin, he resembles the purest angels from those books of the ancients.

But no one knew, beneath the beautiful facade is the heart of a killer.

No one knows when he'll come, but in his wake, death follows.

He trudge through the dark and blend with the shadows as he took life.

AZALEA

In the cover of the night, countless non human fled. Their yellow eyes showed a hint of desperation and fear that no one should've experienced. From time to time, they would turn their heads, eagerly hoping that none had followed them. Their small physique and thin body showed just how much they were starving despite living under one of the reknowned prosperous city. But how their life from the beginning never changed, their future will never change as well.

This beings are called Balathla, beings that looks like rat and live like rats, for they live in the sewers their whole life. Their body is covered with coarse fur and they have a very long yet thin tail, which they commonly used for hunting. They have two large front teeth used to gnaw things and whiskers on the side of their snout.

They had been living under the city their whole lives, though not luxurious, it was peaceful enough compared to other large cities.

The land of Tabitha is divided into two Empire and four large kingdoms, as well as small cities like Azalea. The Empire of the Human Nations and the Empire of the Non Human Confederation. Both Empire held great power and both their cruelty is on par. The Human Empire seeks purity, no race shall be mixed upon their blood, while the Non Humans hate the humans and hates the weak. Only the strong is allowed to survive. In the confederation, you must prove yourself and attain what you desire with your strength. The emperor can be changed through a duel, and no heir is decided upon birth. Just strength and power is enough of a proof to your claim on the throne. It was both the hardest and easiest to attain.

Humans on the other hand prefers lineage. The purer the bloodline, the better.

No heir must be tainted. No one shall reproduce with a non-human. And if found with a child, the child must be killed while the mother will be thrown out and exiled, unable to return forever.

For it was disgusting to live with those

sinners. Abomination is what they're called.

The four large cities; Human city Azalea and Qimaz, Non Human Confederation Barbasin and Neutral city Satunia. These major cities, filled with light and yet equally filled with the darkest shadows one can see. It is hell for those who's weak. They are to be trampled and hunted for the rest of their lives.

No one knows who will bring thy light, to this pitiful people. Even the red moon can only watch but of no help to those who suffer.

This night, the hunt for Balathla is ongoing. The red moon's light, lit the creature running from the predator. With fearful gaze and sorrowful sob, the woman, the children and the old can't even hoped to be saved, their only wish is to let some of them live and continue their race. Despite in pain and anguish, the Balathla hoped that they would not be forgotten, that the name of their race will be remembered, not as a vermin that went extinct after being purge, but living beings that breath, think and live their lives the way they want to.

But such a wish, seems to be a luxury, one they cannot afford.

Amidst the fleeing figure, one stood out the most. His fur darker than black but his eyes the color of blood. This Balathla is the largest of them all. His figure despite being thin is better compared from the rest. He was holding a scimitar on his hand, while there's a bow on his sholder. The sound of his wooden arrow made a sound as he run and led his people for survival. Everytime someone falls, he'll immediately help and pull them up their feet, urge them to run and think of nothing else. He would carry some of the old ones, and even some children, as he ran along with them.

And for that, they are thankful.

Despite not wearing a crown, for his people, he is a king. A benevolent king.

But this king is so ashamed, for he has no power nor kingdom to let his people live. He has nothing to cover them and protect them against evil and vile creatures both human and Non human alike. He is worthless. He alone can't fight. He is also a prey to be hunted.

The king of Balathla tribe, Sidron, is a very large one compared of the rest. He is also the skilled one amongst them. But compared to other beastkin, they were nothing but rodents to be trampled upon, and pest to be extinguished for the humans.

With fear on his wildly beating heart, there is also firm conviction for freedom and safety of his people.

Thus, even if he dies today, he will not abandon them.

Suddenly, the wind picked up, and wild laughter echoed through the forest. The dark shadows seemingly hiding monsters ready to pounce the small fearful tribe.

Sidron, with the instinct he honed through fights and survival, instinctively dodged to the side. He grabbed a young balathla, and swiftly threw him towards the other who was running ahead. The other one, Kirismo, a warrior, caught the child and continued running. He did not even looked back as he signaled for the rest to follow.

Sidron felt relieved as he took a glimpsed of their rushing figure. Perhaps he may not be able to follow, but his chaotic heart strangely settled down. His sharp eyes scanned his surrounding before pulling an arrow and using his bow to aim at the left side of his position.

SWIIIIISH!

CLANG!

SKILLED!?!

Sidron felt his heart drop at this revelation just by the short exchange.

But still, he pulled another one and did the same.

This time, the arrow did not arc, it just headed at the target in a straight trajectory. The arrowhead pierced through the trees, and flew with a sharp sound of the wind. A grunt can be heard and a thud followed.

One down. Sidron thought.

He almost yelled and fist pump, but held his excitement in.

It wasn't finished. There's more to come.

And true to his expectations, another wave of attack flew towards him. This time, it was swifter and far more vicious, but despite the accumulated damage, he still held on.

Sidron fell, his furry body is filled with wounds some might not be able to endure. But he remained firm in defending.

Seeing as a robed man flew up and was about to follow his people, Sidron threw the last remaining weapon on his arsenal at the man, with quick precision.

The man, filled with excitement and overflowing confidence, was stabbed by the dagger thrown by Sidron. The man fell as well, and finally, he didn't move. His breathing stagnated and a wisp of breath flew out of his mouth. Just like a visible air from the mouth that can be seen during the winter. His body immediately turned rotten. The disgusting scent wafted through the air like a poisoned mist.

Sidron coughed a few times, eyes hazy, but he still held on as he kneeled at the ground. His sharp red eyes stared at the people coming to surround him. But no fear can be seen. They may not all be able to escape, but he bet that a few can, and survive. Thinking of the few who will remain is enough of a comfort to his dying heart.

"Rat, you dare to kill one of us. Do you think your entire race is enough as a compensation?" A vicious male voice erupted from the crowd. The man with his hooded robe down, stepped up. He has golden hair and pale gray eyes that seemed too ordinary compared to those who were blessed by the Gods in the continent. The dull greys seemed like those of the blindmen who were spotted begging for alms beside the garbage dumps. "Why dont we settle our accounts here and now? We will catch the other rodents and let them die in front of you. Dont you think it will be nicer of us to not let you all be separated even in death?" The man said smugly. He then pulled a circular device that seemed to glow against the light of the red moon. Catching the attention of everyone present at the hunting venue.

A woman, seeing the device laughed maniacally. She sat at the branch of one of the large trees, just like the others watching the show. "Evlon, what a waste. All for a few rodents?" She said in her irritating voice that grate the ears of those who can hear. Her pale red hair stood out , not to mention, her purple eyes that seemed to emit a light due to the reflection of the moon. She has small nose, heart shaped lips and oval face that surely attracts alot of male species. Her movement and gait shows her noble lineage but her vulgarity is not hidden at all. She moved to seduce and she breath to attract the energy of men. In a term that everyone is familiar of, she is from the species of Succubus.

Truthfully, there's no one left of that demon race, but humans, with the greed for power collected a lot of samples from the hunted succubi, and created a lineage of humans that wields the same power. In short, they are only greedy and vicious humans, nothing more.

Sidron felt anger for the races who had been killed and hunted for their bloodlines and powers, and shame because they were hunted not for the same reason. Because Balathla is a race of rat beastkins, they do not have that much of ability, they only reproduce too fast, and is seen as dirty and disgusting race of the humans. This people, despise them, criticize them and treated them like shit when they had done nothing to earn their ire. Despite their beauties nearer from the image of Gods, their innerselves were akin to a monster.

Sidron watched and heard their redicule, but he remained on the same position- kneeling. He can no longer move and fight. He's just that weak.

"The night is getting deeper and yet this one is the only thing we've hunted. Isnt it just a waste. If the commandments hears of this blunder, arent well all just waiting to be despised?" Another one voiced. The speaker is also a woman but she looks dull and ordinary compared to the other woman who spoke earlier. But her words seemed like a wake up call to the people busy chattering and laughing. They immediately stopped talking to themselves.

"Funny hearing that from you. There's nothing left to be despise in you."A male voice bantered. This words earned him a snigger from the rest, while the one taunted growled irritably. Still, no one fought against each other.

"Come on, let's do this. This device will show where the rodents ran off to, so it doesnt really matter if we start now or later. Also, another team has also went that area. What a lucky encounter that is. That team is much cruel that ours, right? Afterall, it was let by that man." The same blond man, called Evlon, happily stated.

Hearing those sentence, Sidron jolted from his kneeling position. With his racing heart and burning lungs, he stood up, while enduring the aching wounds. He tried to stand up and run to follow his people but he was suddenly kicked. He flew up and rammed against one of the trees and vomited blood from his mouth. He can feel the broken bones poking his insides as he breath, but the pain is much greater when he thinks of his people dying miserably.

Hearing the vicious laughter and mocking words, Sidron couldnt utter a thing. Only fear and sorrow succumbs his heart. He felt his eyes has moistened, as he felt a type of ache that he had never felt before. With shaking hands, he wipes the water leaking from his red eyes, it wets the fur on his face, and the hot feeling burns his face.

Sidron, feeling the unfairness and injustice from being born from a lowly race had never cried. He never kneeled and never felt so pained ever since he was born. But at that moment, he so wished that he and his entire race had not been born from such race. Perhaps, they might be spared and left alive insteaf.

For the very first time, Sidron, an uncrowned king, cried and howled so miserably.

And as he cried, the echoes of mocking laughter echoed just as loud.