Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Pepermint Spade, there lived a young fighter named Archelius Miratus.

This young lad, for some reason, really really liked grapes, liquid made out of grapes, cake with grapes on it, everything that had to do with grapes he ate or tasted it already.

Since he was young, he did not know that his fate remained undisputed by the Gods of vision, Archelius stuck to the world's rules instead, letting himself be a knight-puppet.

Archelius always had a good fighting spirit, always stood up for others especially for the ones that were weaker than him, smaller in height or they just feared.

Fifteen years had passed since then, and now they were at war times, the most ferocious times for what they could be witnesses in the front line

The motivation was always on point from the Frontline captain, Miratus Seth, brother of Archelius, the most respected man from the country.

-HAAAH!

-HAAAH

-HAAAH

-HAAA!

Unfortunately, that young lad of ours was put into the line one in the war, the most dangerous position for a boy like him, only at 20 years old is something that he would never forget as his first ever war-experience.

In the war, many countless lifes were taken away, some wounds could be healed, some wounds could no, the wounds from the heart of the grieving families that lost their father, sons, friends...

The young lad of ours was safe and sound, despite being the first one to clash it's sword with the southern enemies that declared war with them. 

He slayed hundreds of enemy people, he was the ace of the war, the prodigy is what the people of the kingdom were calling him after war times, when it was the time for him to come home.

There sure is something great about grapes, the juice and sweetness. In the hard war times, it sure fits well on an empty stomach, along with cold water and bread with a few green and white spots on them, which would be eaten in emergency cases, and if they would stay more than ten days on the field, waiting patiently for the enemies to strike first.

Finally, after four long, cold and hard months, the boy had returned to his family that waited him with a hot meal and a nice fruit nectar in a ceramic cup.

Another interesting rumour going on in the Kingdom after the was that fresh grapes is what helped the young lad energize and hold his sword more steadily, and make him gain stamina by the second. Maybe it was just a myth, but maybe it was the truth that only Archelius Miratus knew.

-Father, mother, I'm back

-Ooh, my sweet, sweet child (sobs and hurries to hug him)

-Mother, why are you crying, (smiles), all good, brother made it too, but he's talking with the King right now, maybe war stuff (chuckles).

-We are truthfuly happy that you are back safe and sound, but your sister...

The father looked down down, his expression got darker and darker.

-She was killed by a drunk man from the Kingdom (cries)

-I beg you pardon, father? 

Asked Archelius

His mother continued, crying even harder now

-Four days ago, she went inside the Kingdom to get a gift for you, something that would put a smile on your face, she said, but she wasn't home after a few hours and we went to search her, and she had her chest stabbed by a piece of broken glass, and a piece of clothing with golden lining, which only the son of the King wears.

Archelius sat down on the warm bed, with it's palms on his face, the vision of his eyes went trought his formed and well worked fingers, while his eyes zoned out, slowly filling themselves with despair  and stress.

Archelius knew he could do nothing against it, even as a war hero, he knew he was useless against the king's orders, he knew that even one single bad word towards someone from the Crowned family would be an instant execution for the Archelius family. Despair and misery covered his thoughts.

Seconds after, he dragged his body outside the house, with no words at all and no reaction, but something was missing from his face... his happy and joyful face, the face of an energetic warrior

One week had passed since then, Archelius was working at the north side of the Kingdom's farm, along with other tens of farmers, taking out unnecesary herbs from the crop and planting back, thousand of pumpkin seeds. He was assigned to do the hard job, for some reason, and the longest one, from the other common farmers.

-I won the war, and this is how I am treated

Though Archelius to himself, slowly taking himself to the darker side of his mind, the side where jealousy and anger had it's place.

From a sudden moment, an farmer screamed from around fifty meters away, running as fast as he could, barely breathing from the long loss of stamina.

-Archelius! Archelius!

-What is it?

Asked Archelius, raising his unbothered look from the ground, and stopping himself for a moment.

-Your house, it had been burned down, and... and, I can't tell you, I am sorry, you have to see it for yourself

Archelius stabbed the metal end of the shovel in the dry ground and dropped the iron bucket filled with seeds, making them spill all over the dirt, and ran as fast as he could, all the way to the other side of the Kingdom, only in ten minutes or less.

On arrival, Archelius saw his house burned down to ashes, something that even in his worst nightmares he couldn't accidentally think of. Inside of it there were two figures that were held down on chairs, tied up with a dark material that looked burned to coal.

Archelius tried to look away, but he couldn't. He hoped it was just a bad dream, but it wasn't, for him, it was the worst nightmare.

Dropping down on his knees, Archelius raised and put down his upper body, firmly grabbing his scalp with both of his hands. He scream was so loud that it was a deep and intense. So loud that it was silent, so loud that only he could hear it. His neck veins grew like ropes in his neck.

That was the moment that Archelius Miratus gave up, it was over.

One hour later, when his tears dried out, Archelius went outside and saw a piece of old scroll paper falling down from near his burned down house, it looked freshly put there.

"This was because you killed our allies in the war. You should've just follow Seth's orders and leave the enemy lanes alone, and not think for yourself. Congratulation for Seth and his promotion into Captain of forth division of Spade knights"

One word could resume the feelings that went through him. Hopelesness.

Two weeks later, Archelius comes out of one of Kingdom's bars, slamming the door open, then drinking it's way to a dark alley near the bar.

He tries to lick out the last two drops of alcohol from the bottle, but nothing. He turned it upside down and two drops of alcohol fell down fuzing in the dirty muddy ground.

Throwing the bottle aside out of anger, it broke on impact.

With each step, his body was tilting left and right, barely being able to walk.

His vision was blurry and his mind was corrupted by the liquour and beer and because of this and because the back of the alley was really dark, Archelius didn't see a small rock stuck in the ground and tripped on it, hitting his head into a big boulder that was put to fill a hole in the ground.

His eyes slowly closed and blood was flowing out of his skull, leaving a long trail of red on the rock.

The laughter and the muffled talk inside the Bar continued, but Archelius remained still as a plank and no one bothered an eye for him.

                                                                              T HE  E N D