¿Cursed? Boy(Manchego is top notch shaved)

A boy sat in a softly lit room, the light was from the single window in the room. It was a stained window depicting a sun with nine hands, all reaching for a single bird. When the sun hit just right, making both suns align, it would make the small world glow creating an ethereal scene.

The room was filled to the brim with books, scattered around a single figure. Subjects of history, alchemy, magic, language, but most of all fables. Fables about gods and heroes. About good and evil, about golden-eyed heroes and red-eyed devils.

The boy wept, as he did every day. But like every day, no one saw. That was why he only wept in his heart because nothing will change even if he did.

The boy walks towards the beautifully stained window, wading through the sea of books, taking a seat underneath the window. Drawing in his legs toward his body he wrapped his arms around his legs. The boy spoke. "When my sleep comes to take me, who will wait for me?" He had expected no reply. He gazed landed on the images created by the stained glass.

Slowly, the boy intertwined his fingers together. Pressed his hands to his forehead, closed his eyes, and wished. "Solis, would you grant me a wish?" Wasn't there a price to pay for every wish? "In return, I… I will do anything." Yes, he had nothing to give, did he? Then he could give everything. There was nothing to lose.

"I wish…" What did he want? He wanted a lot. To see the world, see the raw sky instead of stained windows and books, eat good food shown in recipe books, meet other people and other races. But what did he want the most? "I wish for…" Yes, yes. That was what he wanted, the soft touches in his memories, the laughter of a man and a woman, the unexplainable warmth. The scenes that haunt his mind with love. "I wish for my parents to love me again." Ah. The truth had spilled, he can't clean up the mess of his words.

"Ah, it didn't work." The boy pasted on a self-deprecating smile. "Of course it didn't, I am a Cursed being, one of the Devil God's." How idiotic was he? Why would Solis listen to the ones from evil? He unfolded his fingers and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Hope was a silly thing and he was too.

Suddenly the room lit up, brighter than before, bright as the shining sun. The boy, too absorbed in holding his tears back, didn't notice. Then, the books flew, the nonexistent wind of the room going wild. The boy shot up in surprise, the room was scrambled, papers in the air, towers of books falling down, the boy's long hair waving in the sharp wind.

He covered his eyes with his forearms, the light getting too bright to bear. As abruptly as it had started, it had ended. No longer was there blinding light but a figure. A woman far too old for this world, sitting in a black wheelchair, in the eye of a paper-thin storm.

"Are you… Solis?" Words tumbled out of his mouth, the scent of hope, too sweet. Shining red eyes and eyes of the sun met.

"Yes." The old woman replied, softly smiling. "And you are the one who wished to me." Her face changed, fine lines and wrinkles turning to a smooth, youthful visage. Thin grey hairs changing to gold, unwinding from the bun it was in. Standing up, the wheelchair sunk into the grounds and wings burst from their back. Her dress turned to a suit, and hairpin to a fedora. "Greetings little one." Tilting his fedora hat, the now young man, greeted the boy.

"He-." Before the boy could speak a word, the god bounded up to him.

"My, my, my. What a rare specimen!" The god took ahold of the boy's head in both of their hands. And took a closer look at his eyes. Red eyes, gleaming with emotions.

"It's not every day you see these! My, how fortunate of me!" The god grinned teeth and all, his fluttering wings causing feathers to fall. Eyes of gold bore into the boy's soul.

A sad smile graced the boy's face, "Not every day you see a Cursed being. Do you?" But the reaction he'd gotten was different. The god smiled wider, if that was possible, and tutted.

The god snickered, "Not quite, it's not every day you see a red-eyed human without them being a Cursed being." The god pranced about in the air. Invisible steps guiding their soles.

The boy gaped. "Wha-what?" Him? Not a Cursed being? Is that even possible? His hands trembled.

The god raised an eyebrow, "What? Did you think you're a Cursed being?" The god laughed as if that was impossible, "Don't kid yourself. You don't even have a Dark affinity."

Dark affinity, in the world there are five main elements, the element of Dark is one of them. The main elements consisted of Fire, Water, Ground, Light, and Dark. Of course, there was more but those were sub-elements, a combination of the original five elements. Like Wind, a mixture of Fire and Water. Ice,being a mixture of, strangely enough, Water and Dark. And the beings blessed by the Devil God would be gifted an immense talent for Dark affinity, and Cursed beings are, indeed, blessed by the Devil God.

Landing in front of the boy after the impromptu dance, the god turned back to an elderly woman. Gold locks turning grey, fedora back to a hairpin. The suit molding into a dress, the god gaining wrinkles and lowering in stature, all in tandem.

Taking a seat in the wheelchair, the god crooned, "But back to the original topic, what was your wish again dear?" But the boy was much too shocked to reply. The notion that he was not a Cursed being, but just an unfortunate soul with red eyes.

The boy's eyes shook. If… if I told them would they love me?

The god smirked devilishly. "Ahh, but who will believe you? The child that has red eyes or the Church?"

The vines of dread curled around his heart. "The Church? Why would the Church do that?" Wasn't the Church a good place? A place of sanctuary for the weak? The books always say that the Church helps the heroes. …But what about the devils? But he wasn't a devil anymore!

The god's face twisted into an, even more, uglier look. "Even if you aren't the Devil's anymore, it is my Church, you must have known." The god giggled at his despair.

Solis Church, the official church of the Kingdom of Ghatana. The Church and Ghatana is something that is inseparable, for the rulers of Ghatana are said to the descendants of the God, Solis.

"But… why would you do that?" The hope that tasted sweet had gotten him, to his heart. It was not honey but sweet poison. The boy intertwined his fingers.

The god frowned, muttering, "Not quite fun with a kid like this." Wings fluttered, the god shook their head, a smirk on their face again. "My, because it's fun. I don't get much enjoyment around here." The god leaned forward, arms on the wheelchair and eyes into his. "Now back to your wish. Lad, do want your parents to love you."

Numbly, the boy replied, "...Yes." His knees felt weak. The only world he knew had been broken multiple times.

"How do you want this to be achieved?" Out of nowhere, a piece of parchment flew into the god's aged hands. Humming, the god casually plucked a feather out of their wings.