《Masquerade of Life》 Chapter 0 Applause. As I opened my eyes, moonlight pours through, blindingly bright, sickeningly pale. The crowd¡¯s jeers reaches my ears, but as any good jester knows, jeers are a form of applause. For after all, they prove one¡¯s existence, one¡¯s actions, worthy of acclaim, regardless of actions. We jesters hunger for such applause; and what greater laudation does one receive except one at the culmination of life, the curtain call of the Reaper? ¡°The criminal, Pierre Osmanthus, have been charged with theft, murder, and high treason. He has been found consorting with the Black Hand, with numerous irrefutable evidences of his traitorous deeds. Thus he will now undergo purification of his soul through death, found at the cleansing fire.¡± The rasping voice of the preacher resounded harshly within my head. I glance about, noting the stake I was tied to, the rough rope that digs into my flesh, the dry tinder about my person, and the audience, the ever present audience. I lightly laugh, inciting the anger of the crowd. ¡°Fucking traitor!¡± ¡°Burn in hell you bastard!¡± ¡°Worthless son of a bitch!¡± So cries out voices that had lauded my name in the streets not even a week ago. Oh how fickle are the hearts of men. ¡°Pierre, do you have any confessions to make upon the eve of your death?¡± the preacher contemptuously inquires. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Oh priest, what are confessions, but the revelations of secrets which one has held within the deep recesses of his heart? And what are secrets, but hidden desires and actions? What use is it to speak of such secrets when my actions have so clearly been revealed?¡± I respond, lightly sighing, in that flowery speech I am so accustomed to. ¡°But your actions make no sense, why did you--¡± a soldier at the side inquired, but was cut off by his comrade who dug his elbows sharply into his sides. I turn my head to glance at him, recognizing him as one of my more ardent fan, one of many that had attended every one of my performances with a zeal. Ah what a pity, that although I long for the end of this play, that I would leave the audience behind. ¡°PEOPLE! Look upon this unrepentant criminal, one that refuses to alleviate the burdens of his soul but would rather mock the intelligence of the people that stand witness here. Let us not tarry, light the fire!¡± The torches are set to the tinder, which is set ablaze, setting my vision within an amber glow. I close my eyes, reminiscing, as the flames lick upon my soles, desiring to consume my flesh. Yes, I reminisce, of simpler days, the days in which I had no recollection of my gift, my affliction, my curse. I open my eyes, glancing at the moon, the accursed moon, that whose light is hollow, as I am. I then turn my head towards the crowds, and smile maniacally. ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen, I welcome you to my last performance. I appreciate your support over these past few weeks, but I regret that all good things must come to an end. And so, I bid you adieu. ¡± Then with a grin, I¡. Preamble- Recollections of the Pierrot I was born in the capital of the kingdom of Candidus as the third child of the Osmanthus family, consisting of four children all one year apart from the next and a single father. I suppose my family was well off, as compared to other families within the capital, as we were one of the 20 minor noble families of the kingdom. We didn¡¯t really lack for anything, nor were we lavish spenders. Unlike other nobles, however, our family disdained utilizing servants for our household, preferring to do the general chores ourselves. A rather unremarkable minor noble family. When I was a child, I was often told that I was a docile baby, quiet, seldom crying. I apparently had my family¡¯s trademark black hair when I was born, but over time the color faded away, leaving behind drab, gray locks. These two traits combined resulted in a rather unsettling look for a toddler, causing the general populace of the capital to be rather wary of me, but pretended to not be in front of me, as that would be rather cruel to a child. Of course, I noticed. When I was 5, my siblings and I were tested by a court mage and a knight, for our affinity in magic and in blade, in order to test what our future paths should be. My father¡¯s bloodline proved to be rather excellent, as my siblings all had potential in magic and martial arts, not one had potential lower than a superior rating. Except me. I had proved to be the only one that is average in all aspects.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Despite this rather disappointing result, my father¡¯s plans and aspirations for me were no less than that of my siblings. Rather, it seemed as if he was determined to prove my rating wrong. Because of this lack of discrimination, as well as his fervent support, I rather loved my father. Of course, I loved my siblings as well, as they would help me out in my training and in school, in whichever area I struggled, and I could feel their own love for me, their brother. So, I strove my best to follow their wishes, to meet up their expectations, to not let them down. ¡.. ¡. ¡ .. . I also hated them. I hated them, because whenever grievances arose between us, I would oft hold in my bitter words, my anger and misery, as to hold the harmony within the family. I would constantly compare myself and my skills with my siblings, and find myself lacking. Of course, I would eventually lash out, but more often than not I would be proven to be in the wrong of the conflict, and accept their reasoning the logical thoughts that were so much superior to mine. ¡. ¡ .. . But I loved them. Isn¡¯t it amusing, isn¡¯t it interesting, isn¡¯t it so¡ human? That such a contradiction would exist even within the heart of a child. That the expectations and love that one had poured out could turn out to do so much harm. That it came so naturally to the child lie, to hide, to evade. Chapter 1 "Wake up, sleepypie." At the sound of a familiar, gentle voice, the figure on the bed slowly arose, rubbing the sleep out of his pale, stormy eyes, his gray locks spraying out in a wild bedhead. Grumbling slightly to himself, he looks around for the instigator of his awakening, spotting her by the doorway to his bedroom. "Morning Leah. And good night." With these parting words, the youth then turned to his side, and attempted to fall back into the world of dreams. The girl chuckled, then with smooth, practiced movements walked over to the bed, and unceremoniously ripped the bedcovers off the boy, leaving him shivering and balled up in a fetal position. "Come on Pierre, get up. It''s already 7:30 and you need to eat breakfast before Grant and Theo steals it all." said Leah. "... Did you make the food?" "Yeah. It''s nothing much though, just eggs an-" With a bolt, the gray locked boy rushed out his bed and flew down the stairs to the dining room. "Morning bro." The two boys who were already chowing down on the eggs and bacon merely waves to the greeting, and concentrates back on the food. Pierre joins them in eating, whilst Leah merely shakes her head at the trio of gluttons. "I swear Pierre, some days the only thing that''ll get you out of bed is food," Leah sighed, with equal parts mirth and resignation. "Nuh-uh. Somethgqoeapgflwelkasfn."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "Yes, yes, finish your food first." Pierre finished chewing and swallowing his mouthful, and then unabashedly spoke, "No way. It''s not just any food that can pick me up from my bed. Take for example Grant and Theo''s cooking. Like do you remember the time they burned water when they tried to boi- oough" At his elder brothers'' simultaneous elbow jabs, Pierre grinned and then turned his attention back to the food. A few minutes later, all that was left upon the table were dirty plates and cups of milk, as the siblings took their time to savor the morning breeze and relax before facing the day. "Oh by the way Dad''s returning from the palace tonight," spoke Grant, breaking the serene silence. At his words, Pierre''s heart clenched, but his visage reflected none of his inner emotions. "Do you know what time exactly?" asked Pierre nonchalantly. "Should be a bit after dinnertime. Speaking of him coming back, everyone did the homework he gave us?" replied Grant. "Yeah. I still don''t know why we''re not allowed to show each other the results anyways," grumbled Theo. "Well, Dad told us to hide it from others, and he always has a reason," sighed Leah. """True."""