The F Ranked Journey (BL)

Nate POV:

His name was Mike. A nice name for a berserker and a gladiator. Of course, he didn't fight in legal fights, how could he? He was just 15-years-old. He was strong, clean, muscular, and could make it so, that Lars smiled and laughed.

My eye twitched, as Mike told another joke, and Lars nearly doubled over with mirth. Yes, Lars's hand was in mine, but I didn't feel as if Lars could see me.

"And then I said: Well, if you really want to take my scalp, you will have to wash my hair first! Otherwise, you might end up cutting off your own hand! What with the grease and all," I didn't find such proclamations funny, but Lars wiped tears from the corner of his eyes.

I narrowed my eyes. Even at 15 I knew that a good strategy was to show myself as funny in this situation. The problem was, that I was not funny. The most people who knew me thought that I had two modes: desperation, and anger.

Lars deserved someone who could make him laugh. So, I attempted it.

"Once a merchant tried to make me pay five gold coins for a bowl of soup", which made Lars stop with the laughter. I couldn't understand why. Personally, I found it funny.

"That is horrible, Nate," said Lars, as a frown conquered his lips. "Did you report him to the police?"

"No. If I had done it, then I would have been carted off to jail", I didn't think about my words, they just came out of my mouth. Lars started blinking, and I finally realized that I couldn't keep the truth from him anymore.

"My name is not Nate. I mean, people call me Nate," or they used to, at least. Now, the people who called me Nate were just begging for a kick in the stomach. Mostly they called me that after they stole from me. "But Nathaniel Lariat."

Well, now the cards were on the table. I didn't know if I could ever get Lars to smile at me, but it felt good to not have to hide who I was anymore.

"Nathaniel... Lariat?" Mike started blinking, and to look me over. Then, without another word, he fell on his knees. That was not something I expected. "My King, it is an honor to serve you!"

No one has called me that since my mother died. Back then, I was just a small toddler, barely capable of talking. I didn't expect that Mike will show me respect. For some reason, I felt strange. 

Yes, I knew that I was a prince. For a couple of months, I was even a king with a regency. That didn't stop the people of Lergo from forgetting all about me.

Mike kept his head bowed. He had a bright grin on the lips. My gaze went to Lars, who still held my hand. He mistook my look for something it wasn't, for he also tried to kneel.

"No, I never want that from you!" my voice was too loud. A couple of birds flew away from their perches, and Lars' face became so pale, that I felt fear in me, that he would faint.

"I am sorry. Please, the both of you, I never want to see you kneel for me. I am no prince anymore, and I was an awful king", which was not far from the truth. If I had more sense back then, when I was crowned, I wouldn't be living under a bridge right now.

Not that I wanted to admit something like that to Lars. Or worse, to Mike.

"My father was one of your generals," Lergo used to have many generals in its army. Most of them were just grim faces which I have long since forgotten. It wasn't fair of me, but I simply couldn't figure out who Mike's father was. "He died in the war."

And now I felt awful. Here Mike was, friendly and full of sunshine and optimism, and I had nearly wanted that he would stop with the jokes. Because of a groundless fear.

"I am sure he served with honor," all the Lergo generals from that time were ready to give their lives for the country. Not like the generals from today, who were ready to do anything, just so they could get a cozy position somewhere.

"He always asked me to believe in you," spoke Mike with a conviction, which I feared I didn't deserve. "That if one day I have the opportunity to serve you, then I must do it. It is my duty, my King."

If someone heard him speak to me like this, we would all end up in jail. It was not so, as if we could be overheard in the middle of a forest, but I still looked left, then right.

Trees, but I could swear I saw shadows behind each one. I made a couple of steps towards Mike, and even though he was taller than me, I took a hold of him, and stared into his eyes. Warm and brown. But the nose was familiar. I would never forget the slightly crocked nose of General Amalric. The man who taught me how to fight.

My words refused to leave my lips. How could they? Did Mike know to whom he swore loyalty? Didn't he know that General Amalric sacrificed his life to get me out alive of the palace on the night I lost everything?

His death scarred me for life. A single man facing off against twenty. He was no mage. Just a berserker. And I? I ran away like the coward I was. Even though my limbs were stronger than those of a human. 

I had never felt more bitter, as now. I didn't deserve Mike's loyalty. No, I deserved his hatred. General Amalric would have not died, if he didn't decide to put me before his own child.

"Mike...," I knew I would end beat up, but that was ok. I needed to atone. 

Mike didn't let me apologize. No, he hugged me, and then started to laugh. Some people were built differently from others.

Some could drown in resentment, and others could face off against death itself. Mike hugged just like General Amalric used to hug me. The warmth was the same, the laughter as well. 

Instead of beating me up, he pressed me to himself, and then said, loud and clear:

"It is good to have you in my life! Father always used to say that we were the same age, and could have been good friends!"

No, I didn't want that from him. I wanted...

"Can we not be brothers instead?" my father died too early in the war, and my mother never remarried, so deep in her mourning. That is what I had always wanted for myself. 

A family.

"Sure!"

And, it seemed that it was what Mike wanted as well.