[Blood moon]

Night had resumed its divine mandate once again, plunging the world into endless darkness, with only the natural provisional light of the stars and moon providing direction to countless living things in much of the world.

"No direction, no stability. Only the brightest light is fervently pursued." The demon's thoughts spun...

But in the cold night that sifted the world in darkness, a peculiarity arose: The light provided to living beings, was not only transparent, white, offering brilliance; But a red lethargy hovered over wide grounds, caused by a blood moon that swayed in tranquility and silence over the celestial heights.

The night was gloomy for many, being the antonym of hope... To others, it took on the qualities of an old tree hundreds of feet high, lonely, calm, and winged for the hopeless.

In front of a young Federick, trees of different characteristics danced in a rhythmic form; Owning calm, elegance, and fury.

"Repose and take action; Fury is not necessary, But unnecessary repose, is need of enemy action." If his name were still Frederick, even he would laugh at his present thoughts.

He lay in a rocking chair, strangely, facing the blood moon high above. It provided its light, illuminating the trees in front of him, their protruding roots, and the earth itself, where the deepest roots sank.

"The world is cruel and long-lived. To resemble it, one must be cruel to be long-lived...". Federick stipulated in his heart, unrepentantly.

His former deep purple eyes had disappeared; now his iris harbored a reddish-red color, resembling the silent moon...

But all this was observed by another individual, tall and erect, with messy hair and a scruffy beard, but deep and penetrating eyes; In his eyes has reproduced an image completely different from reality.

He observed how a bright purple energy swayed on its axis, similar to the fire of a candle; It was at some moments resting, and at others, it became uncontrollable; Until the vessel overflowed, as it was slowly taking the shape of a giant individual and even, having its features; But it was still in a primitive, embryonic phase...

However, if someone else were to observe the same scene, he would only see a babbling Italian baby.

...

From one moment to the next, a solar cycle had been completed. Federick was already one year old, which was not celebrated, in consideration of his unawareness of the event.

He had already made himself known in the Battlemman family's facilities. Down the long corridors of Is, King Carlos II and his daughter, Princess Pearl, were strolling and chatting pleasantly.

"How has your practice been going lately, daughter, does little Faith, pose any difficulties for you?" Carlos II commented as he smiled. He did so without expecting any rhetoric, but a scene in front of his eyes plastered an exasperated smile on his face.

Federick lay on the shoulders of a servant. A servant who was characterized by a proud and erect bearing, a mustache being the cherry on top of his image.

But at this moment, Federick was manipulating it, to direct the steps of the servant, whose face showed an expression of regret.

Once upon a time, he had played a bet with Federick and lost...

...

Another year passed quickly. Federick no longer needed any gadgets and mostly walked alone.

Today was a sunny day, but something was fighting with his brightness: His Mother's smile.

Today was a special day because he and his mother had traveled to the fourth sector of the city, to 'reconcile with the city'.

They had traveled many streets, to the point that their short legs had suffered the effect of exhaustion. Finally turning a corner, and stepping onto a new street, he noticed the figure of a beggar who was collecting money in his hat. A classic beggar's act.

Upon observing this, Federick approached him with great joy, plastering a smile on his Mother's face. But against the expectations of any individual with common sense, Federick took the money the beggar had collected, thanking him.

"Thank you, Sir. Personal Ethics!" Federick exclaimed jubilantly, as he made his way to an artisanal soda store.

But the most surreal part of the situation was the reaction of the beggar, who rejoiced and rejoiced at getting a nickname from the aristocracy in force.

...

Three years...

Federick was in silence, inside an office where a meeting was taking place. Even though he didn't know how he got in, he did...

Here, a woman was debating impeccably with the representatives of Athenas. Unscrupulously, she spat spit after an argument.

But this scene was stopped by the coughing of Federick, who was quickly lifted by the arms of his servant.

Turning his gaze to the Miss, he exclaimed, "Ladies, calm down, there's no need to get agitated."

The woman gave him an odd look, not because of the zero eye contact, but because of the use of the plural as she looked at his lush chest.

"I'm sorry, Sir; I believe the guards were confused in allowing you to pass." The woman struggled to sketch a gentle smile.

"Shh, shh... Truly shameless ladies." Federick said as he wiped imaginary sweat from his brow.

"Carl, women these days, they're getting more and more difficult."

"My name is Dewis, Master."

"..."

...

Fourth year...

A week had passed since another great commemoration of the birth of the 'Crown Prince by force'.

And today, a special meeting was taking place. Both heirs would meet for the first time, arranged by the guardians of both.

Two mature beauties stood on a cloth, spread out on the grass. Food and drink were spread out on it; it was indeed a picnic.

It had only four participants. Two infants and two women. The women were sharing a pleasant chat, the opposite direction to the situation of the two children, where one kept an uncomfortable expression and the other was staring at him.

"Mhm... Germän; I previously concreted with a traba with that name... Heh."

"Heh, Federick; I've heard that your name can be adored."

"Do you even know the meaning of adored?".

"Mhm... No? But you don't either!".

"Heh, poor deluded man."

The scene was replayed with only one peculiarity. It was emulated by only one person because one was older and the other so much younger that he could not articulate words...

...

5 years...

Perla watched as a strange exchange between a donkey and a child was played out in her garden, which, even to her, produced an exasperated expression.

"Cousin, this rose was given to you. Keep it as a precious commodity in the bottom of your heart, as is the Family."

Yes, it was her son...