YW | Chapter 1.1

From as far back as he could remember, the child was always either being beaten, begging, or crawling on the ground clutching his hungry stomach.

He couldn’t speak properly because he mimicked others’ words awkwardly, and he didn’t even know he lived in a slum. Even when he curled up to sleep in a shanty with holes that let in light, wind, and water, or ran through alleys for a piece of rotten cheese, he wasn’t particularly unhappy. Everyone around him lived similarly, so there was no reason to feel unfortunate.

The child’s world changed when he turned seven.

The newly appointed pope was quite active in helping the poor, sending volunteer groups even to remote villages that devout believers rarely visited. The child’s eyes widened at the sight of a white procession suddenly appearing in the village, where strangers were rare. Many people carried food with a savory aroma, weaving through the crowd.

A girl with fine hair stood in front of him.

She didn’t seem to hide her disgust, yet her white robe and spotless skin stood out. She was the complete opposite of his entirely black self. The girl offered bread with just her fingertips, careful not to let any dirt touch her, but the child, unaware of her caution, reached out as if mesmerized.

A soft sensation touched his palm. It was a shock.

It was the first time his outstretched hand wasn’t pushed away but actually touched something. It was also the first time he felt something so clean and soft. The child, who fiddled with the white bread until it turned gray, cautiously took a bite. He barely chewed before it slid down his throat.

It felt like holding a warm snowflake.

Regretting how quickly it disappeared, he took a smaller bite, but the result was the same. A warm sensation spread from his chest. His nose tingled, and his throat tightened. Perhaps this was the happiness people talked about, he thought.

The girl couldn’t hold back her laughter as she watched him.

She thought it suited a beggar to knead white bread until it turned black before eating it. As she turned to leave, having watched him tearfully savor the cheap bread, a desperate voice stopped her.

“I, Ir. How, how is it?”

“What?”

“Calling. Uh. Beggar?”

What’s your name? My name is Beggar.

The child tried his best to explain, but of course, the girl didn’t understand.

“Who’s this beggar calling a beggar?”

The girl’s pretty brow furrowed.

She seemed to understand the name, but for some reason, she got angry.

Did I say something wrong?

As the child tried to choose his words again with a bit of frustration, a lively voice called from afar.

” Liriel Priestess! I think we can go now.”

“Yes, I’m coming! Hey, don’t let me see you again.”

Liriel. So it’s Liriel.

Watching her quickly retreating figure, the child repeated the name several times. He had never wanted anything in his life, but the white thing he saw today was very tempting. Clean clothes, hair that smelled good, a confident gaze, and a fluent way of speaking were all admirable, but more than that, her kindness in sharing bread with a beggar like him sparkled brightly.

“My, name. I also want to be Lili.”

His heart pounded wildly.

The winter when he was seven.

It was the moment the child got a name.

⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚

At twelve, Liriel could speak a bit more than before. He still stuttered, but now, if the other person was patient, they could somewhat communicate. Of course, this wasn’t entirely a good thing. Being able to speak and understand meant he couldn’t filter out the hurtful words directed at him.

“Hey, girl. You’re so filthy your parents abandoned you. Go wash up.”

“I, I, washed.”

“Oh. You washed? Now you don’t even deny being a girl.”

Liriel endured silently as kids much younger than him threw sand and dirt at him. After pushing a kid who tried to throw a stone and getting beaten by the kid’s parents, he became cautious with every move.

‘You don’t have parents, so what are you acting up for? Do you think anyone would care if you died here?’

He had never had parents, so there was no reason to feel sad about it. That was how it should have been, but that day, he felt particularly pitiful for having no one to protect him.

Family, family. What is that?

Next door, Bernard’s family would huddle together on stormy nights, sharing warmth as they slept. Jeep’s family would gather to share even a single piece of bread, and Harriet’s parents would always defend her, no matter how much trouble she caused, saying their child was the best.

Family must be like that. Even if you block the cold with your palm instead of a leaky roof, you’re not cold, and sharing your food makes you full.

The more he thought about it, the more depressed he felt. Liriel shook his head to clear his mind and sat by the stream, splashing water on his face.

He could repair the leaky shanty by himself, and if he found food, he could eat it all himself, so family was unnecessary. There was no need to envy or desire what he didn’t have.

Trying to think positively, Liriel paused while washing his face. His eyes reflected in the water seemed strange. He thought it might be the rippling water, but even when it calmed, his eyes still looked odd.

His pale pink eyes, already not to his liking, had something sparkling in them. It looked like white spots or small bruises.

He turned his head this way and that, but the starlight in his eyes shimmered as if it belonged there. Soon, Liriel dismissed the thought and continued washing his face.

He wasn’t in pain, so it didn’t seem like an illness, and even if it was, there was no way to treat it. He couldn’t even guarantee a meal tonight, so he had no time to worry about the specks in his eyes.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought his eyes looked strange, as several villagers asked about them later, but Liriel, knowing nothing, just shook his head.

The incident happened after Liriel had completely forgotten about his eyes.

On his way to fetch clean water from the stream, he was about to question a silent presence when the world flipped upside down.

“…Tie him up.”

“Money is….”

He had no time to wonder why he was suddenly lying on his back, staring at the sky. The throbbing pain in the back of his head felt like his skull was split in two, and with that thought, Liriel fainted.

⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚

When he opened his eyes, he saw a pitch-black night sky. He felt hard stones under his back, and the air was chilly.

As he came to his senses, the cold made him chatter his teeth as he sat up, and he immediately noticed dozens of people surrounding him, causing him to hold his breath.

Three men in expensive-looking clothes approached Liriel, who lay sprawled in the middle of a large garden.

“Those are real star eyes. What a headache.”

The man clicked his tongue from a height where Liriel had to crane his neck to see his chin, and the boys on either side of him pinched their noses with grimaces.

Though obscured by darkness, they sparkled as if made from all the good things in the world.

“You’re not going to announce that thing as a Wecker, are you? It’s filthy.”

“It’s a bigger problem if it falls into someone else’s hands.”

Liriel couldn’t understand their words, but he couldn’t take his eyes off them. They felt strangely familiar. He had never seen such sparkling people before, yet it felt that way.

“Thank goodness it wasn’t discovered until now, with those eyes.”

Eyes?

Tilting his head and meeting their gazes, Liriel felt a strange sense of dissonance.

Come to think of it, they were similar.

Of course, their eyes were like beautiful spring flowers, while his were mottled, but they were the same pink color.

Realizing this, Liriel jumped up in surprise. Some people approached with drawn swords at his sudden movement, but in his excitement, Liriel hurriedly spoke.

“Am, am I family?”

His heart raced wildly. It was the first time in his life that his heart, an organ, had asserted its presence so strongly.

Can only I hear this sound? Can they hear it too? What if it’s too loud and they can’t hear me?

“What?”

“Fa, family. Mom, dad. Sir.”

His pronunciation was jumbled and slurred, but he didn’t think he could say it better if he tried again. He felt frustrated with himself for not being able to speak properly, but his heart was too full to care.

Paul always called him an orphan without parents, and Jimmy, who said even stray dogs had families, kicked him in the stomach every day.

But they were wrong. He must have family too. That’s why they shared the same color.

Dad. Brother. Family.

They didn’t abandon me.

Even the faint possibility made his heart swell with excitement. He pretended to be brave, but every night, before falling asleep, he prayed to the sky. Please let me have a family too. Please let me not be alone in this world.

After a brief silence, they resumed their conversation as if nothing had happened. Their words were even harder to understand than before. Dizzy and with the world spinning, Liriel hesitantly reached out his hand.

The heartbeat was too loud, and he feared they couldn’t hear him. Feeling foolish for not being able to control something so simple, he thought maybe that’s why his family couldn’t hear his voice. Paul was right; he felt like an idiot.

“Fa, fa, father.”

The moment his fingertips barely touched the hem of someone’s clothes, the world spun, and a burning pain spread through his back. It was more painful than when Jimmy kicked him. Tears fell from his eyes without him realizing it.

The man who kicked Liriel without expression clicked his tongue as he looked at the pitiful figure sprawled on the ground.

This is supposed to be a Wecker?

This one seemed particularly lacking, even among street vagrants. The beggar who reported the star eyes was better. At least that one had a spark in his eyes.

The future seemed bleak. It felt like the ultimate humiliation to have to give this trash the Wecker name.

Duke Wecker immediately recognized how starved for affection and weak Liriel was. All things he despised. Starved, weak, useless. Unfortunately, Liriel was all three.

“Looks like he takes after his mother. So vulgar. And his name is a girl’s, too?”

“My name is Liriel.”

The name he practiced several times a day came out quite well, but the duke’s face twisted mercilessly.

“Even the name is just like him.”

The duke’s teeth ground together audibly. Five out of ten commoner girls were named Liriel. It was so common that no nobles used it, and recently, it was a name given in orphanages when they couldn’t be bothered. This useless thing carried such a common, girlish name as his own! A boy without shame.

He wanted to draw his sword and cut off the shameless neck, but he suppressed the urge as he looked at the star eyes reflecting the moonlight. Still, he couldn’t stop the sigh-like lump from escaping his throat.

Wecker’s star eyes are special.