The Darkened War

Ch.38

The crisp autumn wind passed Cerberus, tossing about strands of his midnight black hair and carrying along with it the smell of firewood. Even from a distance, his violet eyes could see the sparks rising above the flames and mixing with the thick cloud of smoke, all dancing under the evening sky. It was Cerberus's favorite time of the day, where the sky was neither bright due to the sun setting, nor had it gone black either. In a way, it demonstrated life perfectly; this world was not light, and it was not dark, but instead, it rested in some color in between.Every person, from the time they are born is placed right in the middle and expected to choose a side. This earth was both bitter and sweet, Cerberus had always seen it that way, and while he loved the sight of a crackling fire and the feel of a warm breeze running along his arms—there were also things he hated. He hated the crowds of people that always grouped together during Antinanco's gatherings. He also hated how empty it got when the night ended, and everyone disbanded from the party. It was quite the contradiction—but life was a contradiction. That's why he found it so cruel when it asked him to choose his side, when he knew he would never fully belong to one or the other.

Glancing over, Cerberus saw Aaron shoot him a grin, before turning his head to look up at the sky. A day ago, his friend had been chosen as one of the cult's three new leaders, along with Analia (a girl he had known from school and wasn't exactly sure what he thought of her) and Aira, who he didn't know, but had been told was rather strange. Cerberus walked over, standing beside his friend, who gave him a sideways smirk. Aaron always had some sly smile to give the world; he faced it head on with fierceness and joy. Cerberus faced it with sorrow. They had their differences, but it had never gotten in the way of their friendship. The two boys had never let it.

Aaron slipped his hands into his pockets, and asked, "Are you going to help out with the festival this year?" Ah yes, the most important Antinanco gathering was the autumn festival. Cerberus couldn't remember a year when their cult hadn't taken a part in it, they'd always been ready to welcome the season with open arms. Every year, they would burn fires, decorate absolutely everything head to toe with the piles of colorful leaves they found on the ground, and planned for an evening of socializing and dancing. Cerberus watched Aaron closely, saw the sparkle in his eye, and knew immediately what he was thinking (Cerberus had always been able to read his friend like a book0. He was planning on asking Analia to the dance. It didn't surprise Cerberus in the slightest, he still remembered Aaron's face after finding out that not only him, but his long kept secret crush had both been chosen as the next three. Even while grieving for the loss of their prior leaders, Aaron couldn't keep the slightest bit of joy from entering at the thought of his new position, and who would be working beside him. Cerberus frowned, shifting his feet as he continued to think on it. Of course Aaron and Analia had been chosen. They were perfect,as future leaders should be. They were only thirteen, but that hardly mattered. Cerberus, only a year older, had let his hopes get too high on thinking he had a chance; that maybe, his hard work and loyalty would get him chosen. That perhaps his years of dedication would mean something. But, it seemed that in the end, he would always be transparent. And completely unnecessary. Still, he had a reputation. A reputation for being involved and always wearing a smile. Helping out was no longer even a question, simply expected.

"Of course," Cerberus responded to Aaron, who laughed, and slung an arm over his shoulders. Cerberus faked a little grin, showing off a beautiful row of perfect pearly teeth. Everyone had loved his smile, so he'd keep it on. Never frowning, and never thinking, he had no time for that. Instead he was always doing. His life was a cycle he couldn't escape. Wake up. Smile. Meet up. Smile. Go to school. Smile. Help out. And smile once again. It was always a pretty grin, never a genuine one–but what did that matter? Beautiful things were always valued over real ones.