humiliation
As dusk fell, Darius and Draven, exhausted, finally returned to the outskirts of Besilico. The setting sun cast a blood-red glow on the city walls, casting long shadows. The brothers' steps were particularly heavy; a whole day's journey had made their legs feel like lead.
A long queue stretched out at the city gate, where a few city guards lazily inspected pedestrians, occasionally harassing one or two who seemed easy to bully and demanding a few copper coins as an "entry fee." This was a scene all too familiar to the lower classes of Besilico in their daily lives—the strong bullying the weak, who could only swallow their anger and then go on to bully the even weaker.
When it was the brothers' turn, a guard with a pockmarked face stopped them. His cloudy eyes looked at the two ragged boys with ill intent: "Stop! You look unfamiliar. Where are you from?"
Darius stepped forward, bowed slightly, and tried to keep his tone respectful: "Sir, we are from the slums in the north of the city. We are out of town today on some business."
Another tall, thin guard squinted at their tattered clothes, a mocking smile playing on his lips: "Going out of town on business? What can you poor wretches possibly do? You're not going to steal chickens or dogs, are you?" He deliberately placed his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist, making a threatening gesture.
Draven clenched his fists at his sides, his nails digging deep into his palms. But a warning look from Darius stopped him from his impending outburst.
“Sir, you’re joking,” Darius continued with a forced smile, though it was stiff and strained. “It’s just a trip to visit relatives in the riverside village.”
The pockmarked guard sneered, spitting almost onto Darius's face: "Visiting relatives? I think you're going to steal things! Search him!"
The two guards roughly searched the brothers, their hands ruthlessly looking through every possible hiding place for money. Finally, the pockmarked guard pulled a small purse from Darius's inner pocket—it contained the dozen or so copper coins they had earned the previous day from their hard work unloading cargo at the docks, which they had planned to use to buy food for the next two days.
"That's all?" The tall, thin guard weighed the money pouch in his hand with disdain, the coins clinking together with a crisp sound. "Not even enough to fill a tooth gap!"
Darius pleaded with restraint, "Sir, we're a poor family, this is all the savings we have, please have mercy..."
"Have some mercy?" The pockmarked guard suddenly spat in Draven's face, the murky liquid sliding down Draven's cheek. "I stand here at this dilapidated gate every day, eating dust and drinking the wind. Who the hell is going to do me any mercy?"
Seeing his brother being humiliated, Draven suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, and instinctively tried to pounce on him, but Darius held him back tightly, his arm gripping Draven's arm like an iron clamp.
Seeing Draven's expression, the pockmarked guard seemed amused and said, "Oh? What's wrong? You little brat, you want to make a move? You've gone too far!" Upon hearing this, the nearby guards were about to surround him.
"Sir, please calm down. The child is just being ignorant." Darius, pressing down the struggling Draven, bowed repeatedly. "This is just a small token; please have a drink with me, sir..."
The tall, thin guard weighed the copper coin in his hand, then sneered, "A poor wretch is a poor wretch! Get lost! Don't block the way!"
The pockmarked guard spat again at Darius's feet: "Useless! Can't even produce a few decent copper coins, might as well die outside the city and feed the dogs!"
Darius forcefully pulled the trembling Draven through the city gate, their voices laced with the harsh laughter of the guards behind them.
"Look at them! Don't they look like two dogs with their tails between their legs?"
"Two lowly commoners, going out to visit relatives! Dressed in such rags, how could they possibly have relatives?!"
"Hey, they're probably going to beg from relatives! What are they going to eat tonight if they lose all the money they begged for? Are they going to eat shit? Hahaha..."
………………
Darius didn't release his brother until they entered the familiar alleyways of the slums. Draven jerked his hand away, his chest heaving with emotion.
"When will we stop being so pathetic?" His voice trembled with anger, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between his teeth.
Darius tried to calm him down, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder: "Draven, calm down, that kind of person isn't worth it..."
Draven suddenly exploded, violently shoving his brother's hand away. "You worked hard all day carrying goods, just to bribe those scumbags so you could give Alice away!"
Darius opened his mouth to speak, but Draven had already turned and rushed into the intricate alleyways, his figure quickly disappearing into the dim twilight. Darius watched his brother run off in the distance, sighed heavily, rubbed his tired eyes, and walked home alone.
When Darius pushed open the shed door, only Quileta sat in the corner, weaving a fishing net in the last rays of sunlight. Her fingers moved nimbly through the mesh, their movements fluid and graceful.
"You're back?" Quileta didn't look up, her hands continuing their work.
"Why is it just you? Where is Alice?"
"Alice went out to play with some stray dogs this morning and hasn't come back yet."
Darius frowned, sitting wearily on the straw mat: "He went out this morning? And hasn't he come back yet?"
"Not long after you left this morning, four or five dogs came to the door—not the same ones as before—and started wagging their tails around Lark. The dogs seemed very friendly and even circled around Alice. Alice was delighted and sat on the cart while Lark carried her to play with her new friends."
"She is always very popular with small animals."
“Hmm,” Quileta said, glancing towards the door, her hands slowing their movements. “Where’s Draven? Where has he gone off to this time?”
Darius sighed heavily and recounted what happened at the city gate: "...Let him vent, lest he get sick from holding it in."
Quileta put down his fishing net, walked to the small stove in the corner, and brought out a pot of stewed mixed fish and a bowl of boiled kelp. This was a common dinner for the poor people of Besilico—stewing small fish and shrimp left over from the day's fish market with some kelp to barely fill their stomachs. A faint fishy smell wafted from the pot; though simple, it was the food they relied on for survival.
“I’ve left enough for Draven and Alice,” Quileta said, carefully ladling out two bowls and setting them aside. She then used a wooden spoon to ladle a bowl for Darius before serving herself some.
During the meal, Darius recounted in detail what he had seen in the riverside village. Quileta listened attentively, and when she heard how wealthy the Rona family was and how much they doted on their daughter, she nodded: "If that's true, Alice will certainly have a good life."
“But Darius…” Quileta slowly put down the wooden spoon in her hand, tears welling in her eyes, “Are we really… going to send Alice away?”
“We’ll save some bread; she’s so young. Saving a little for her will at least make sure she’s full…” Quileta’s fingers trembled slightly. “And Draven… he’s become more sensible lately, he’ll come with you to work at the docks. I’ll find some more odd jobs… I’ll go see if that tavern we went to last time needs any cleaning staff…”
Darius looked at her, took a deep breath, and said in a low, weary voice, “Quelletta, we can barely feed ourselves. There are fewer and fewer jobs at the docks this week, and prices have doubled. We don’t even know if we’ll have anything to eat tomorrow. The Noxian army could arrive at any time. News of the conscription order from the Elders spread throughout Besilico yesterday. The war will reach here sooner or later.”
“Yes…recruitment…” Quileta’s voice choked with sobs, her eyes reddening. “If Noxus really makes it this far, if we die, what will happen to them…” Her voice was filled with helplessness, as if she were about to collapse at any moment.
Darius stood up, gently took her hand, and felt her trembling. He tried to soften his tone: "Quelletta, I understand how you feel. But in this world, people like us have already exhausted all our strength just to take care of ourselves and prevent those around us from disappearing."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the dilapidated slums outside the window. “If the Noxians only intend to conquer Belial, at least sending her away will allow her to have enough to eat and be spared the war—for the farmers, it’s just a matter of paying taxes to a different city lord, and they can still cultivate the land. If Noxus intends to massacre the city, we can go back to the village to find her and escape with her.”
Quiretta's tears finally fell, and she leaned on Darius's shoulder, sobbing silently. Darius gently stroked her back; he knew his words were cruel, but this was the reality they had to face.
————————————————————————————
Meanwhile, Draven ran wildly through the alleyways of the slums, as if trying to leave all his anger and humiliation behind. The guards' mockery, his brother's submissiveness, the sight of the Rona family's wealth... all these things intertwined in his mind, turning into an unvented rage.
His footsteps echoed through the filthy alley, startling a few rats that were foraging for food. Finally, in a secluded dead-end alley, he stopped and began kicking and punching a pile of broken wooden barrels.
"Useless! All of you are useless!" he roared, slamming his fists against the wall until they were scraped and bleeding, but he didn't stop. The pain temporarily made him forget his inner turmoil, but what followed was an even deeper emptiness.
Just then, a voice came from the alleyway: "Hey, isn't this Draven? Why are you throwing a tantrum here all by yourself?"
Draven whirled around and saw Scarface leaning against the wall with a mocking smile on his face.
"Get out of here, Scarface," Draven hissed. This was the last thing he wanted to see right now.
Scarface strolled closer, his two henchmen blocking the alleyway: "What? Your big brother isn't following you around today? Finally alone?"
A dangerous glint flashed in Draven's eyes, but he knew he was in terrible shape—exhausted from walking all day, both physically and mentally, and no match for Scarface. However, anger overwhelmed his reason, and he pounced on him.
Scarface easily dodged Draven's attack, delivering a powerful punch to his abdomen. The excruciating pain caused Draven to curl up and kneel on the ground. He was then kicked in the side of Scarface's face, collapsing completely onto the filthy floor, dust and grime covering his face and clothes. He struggled to get up, but a foot stomped down on his back, pinning him to the ground.
"Is that all you've got?" Scarface sneered. "Weren't you quite arrogant last time you stole my stuff? How come you're lying here like a dead dog now?"
Draven struggled to fight back, but Scarface kicked him in the ribs. "You're nothing without your brother!" Draven gritted his teeth and tried to stand up, but Scarface kicked him to the ground again.
"Where's your all-powerful older brother? Why didn't he come to save you?" Scarface looked down at him, his eyes full of contempt. "Did he think his useless younger brother was too embarrassing and abandoned you?"
"Hahaha! I think so! If I were his brother, I would have thrown your troublemaking good-for-nothing brother into the moat to feed the turtles long ago! So I wouldn't have to clean up your mess every day!" Two henchmen laughed maliciously from the side: "Boss! Give him some 'good wine' to try!"
The most humiliating moment had arrived. Scarface unbuckled his belt and poured a warm, foul-smelling liquid over Draven's head and back.
Warm liquid mixed with dust flowed into Draven's hair, ears, and even the corners of his mouth. The pungent smell made his stomach churn, and the humiliation almost drove him mad. He struggled desperately, letting out a beast-like growl, but he was pinned down and unable to move.
Scarface's henchmen laughed so hard they were doubled over.
After Scarface finished urinating, he fastened his pants and kicked Draven hard again: "From now on, every time I see you, I'll beat you up! You hear me?" He fastened his belt and sneered, "Next time, if you don't stay far away, it won't be as simple as just inviting you for a drink!"
The three men walked away, leaving Draven lying alone in the filth. He struggled to his feet, trembling, unsure whether from anger or humiliation. The smell of urine almost suffocated him; he frantically tore off his shirt, trying to wipe the filth from his face.
He came to a bend in the river within the city. This was a place where slum dwellers often came to fetch water for washing.
Draven stepped into the river. The slightly cool night water sobered him up considerably. He scrubbed the grime and blood off his body with all his might, as if trying to wash away not only the dirt on his skin, but also the humiliation and pain in his heart.
After washing for a long time, he climbed ashore and lay wearily on the rough granite slabs by the shore. The cold stone sent a chill through his wet back, and the stars in the night sky twinkled indifferently.
He recalled the words of the peasant women in the riverside village: "Milk for washing your face...fine wheat bread...clean dress..." Intellectually, he knew this was good for Alice, but emotionally, he couldn't accept it. These "good" things seemed to mock his incompetence, mocking his inability to even provide such a life for his family.
What made him feel most guilty was that, deep down, he actually hoped the Rona family wasn't so well-off, so Alice wouldn't have to be sent away. This selfish thought disgusted him, yet he couldn't suppress it.
The guards' insults and mockery echoed in my ears again: "A poor wretch is a poor wretch! Look at them! Don't they look like two dogs with their tails between their legs?"
At that moment, he felt an intense hatred for his poverty and powerlessness.
Draven lay down until his clothes were completely dry before dragging his battered body back to the shed.
He pushed the door open very quietly, hoping no one would notice his disheveled state.
But Alice didn't seem to be asleep yet. Hearing the door open, she sat up and called out happily, "Little De!"
She reached out her arms for a hug: "Let's sleep together!"
Draven didn't even glance at her, dodging her outstretched hand: "Leave me alone!" He then walked straight to the corner, lay down on the straw mat without a word, turned his back to everyone, and pretended to be asleep.
Alice was stunned, seemingly not understanding why Draven was sleeping on a straw mat on the floor instead of the bed today. She wanted to get off the bed and sleep next to Draven, but Quiletta, who was pretending to be asleep, quickly reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her back. Quiletta gently comforted her, "Draven has walked a lot today and is very tired. Let him rest well and don't disturb him."
Alice sat for a while, but seeing that Draven really didn't intend to sleep with her, she finally couldn't resist the urge to sleep and lay down.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
