{1} Beginnings

As the wind hit the tree branches and the birds sing to one another, something stirred breaking through the brush. The birds flew away with a chirp of defiance for the ruined moment on this blissful day.

Running through the brush, a boy ragged and torn, ran with all his might. The boy was covered in bruises and scratches, his dark hair seeming to bounce the sun away. Tired and beat up the boy collapsed, sucking in a huge breath to fill his empty lungs.

He ran for hours, to escape the bad men who murdered his parents. He watched as they beat his father senseless through a crack in the floor, only stopping to leave him on the verge of life. On the verge of life but at what cost? They forced him to watch as they ravaged his wife finally taking his life when they were satisfied and slitting the woman's throat. The boy, safely hidden away in a hidden spot under the floor boards, heard everything. Only coming out when the crooks set the house ablaze.

He had lept out from under the table and ran as fast as he could hoping he would be able to run through the thugs. They gave chase, and the boy did not know for how long. He did not stop hoping this was just a dream. Hopping he could not only out run the thugs, but out run the pain in his heart and the sounds stuck in his brain seared there like a branding iron. There was no escaping. No peace.

Words cannot describe the agony he had endured. The pain from the scrapes and bruises finally hit him, but it was nothing compared to the hole in his heart that burned with sadness and anger. The tears finally found they're way out, and he laid there and wept until the sun no longer touched the sky, and finally as night hit the boy finally found solace in the embrace of sleep, too tired to dream and to broken to care.

***

Waking to sunlight directly in his eyes, Dante sat up. The memories of his family all flooded back. He cradled himself wondering what was next. What could a boy of 14 possibly do all alone? He needed a plan.

He walked through the forest stopping only to pick some berrys and drink some water from a nearby stream. He knew these woods. He knew them as he had lived in his family's home since the day he was born. All he knew was this forest and his home. His home that was no longer his.

He winced, recalling yet again the harrowing events that transpired the day before. Holding back tears, he thought to himself 'I will never show my tears to this rueful world ever again.'

Just like that, he continued onwards. He knew the nearest town was a days walk south of where his family had lived, so Dante decided that was the best course. But his heart had different choices for him. His heart pulled him towards his home. He wanted revenge. He wanted to cut those bastards up and feed their guts to the crows.

His legs moved on their own, carrying him back towards his home. Back towards the remains of his family. Back towards the men who had killed the only people he had ever loved.