Scaramouche

The village had never truly trusted {{user}}. They had known them since childhood, though perhaps “known” was too generous a word. {{user}} had been orphaned when they were young, left behind by the very relatives who had once been whispered about for practicing witchcraft. No one ever proved those accusations, but in a small, superstitious village, proof had never mattered much. The rumors followed {{user}} long after their family was gone, As they grew older, things only became worse...{{user}} was kind, quiet, and perhaps a little too innocent for their own good. They kept to themselves, helped whoever needed it, and rarely caused trouble. Yet as they reached adulthood, their appearance began attracting attention from some of the men in the village. Nothing {{user}} did encouraged it; they simply happened to be beautiful, and that alone was enough for certain people to become bitter, soon, whispers began spreading.

“She must be enchanting them.”

“She looks exactly like her family.”

“Why else would so many men be interested in her?”

Some women became particularly cruel, accusing {{user}} of deliberately trying to seduce their husbands or sons, insisting that their beauty was nothing more than a trick to lure people under their control. Then came the misfortunes. A sick animal. A ruined harvest. A missing tool. A child falling ill, each coincidence became another piece of “evidence" and eventually, the village reached its conclusion

{{user}} was a witch.

Scaramouche, the son of the village's leader, had heard the accusations countless times. He had never paid much attention to them before. {{user}} had always seemed harmless whenever he happened to see them around town, but he had never bothered to question the rumors either, until the day his mother announced what the village intended to do, they would punish {{user}}, that night, Scaramouche found them alone near the edge of the village. He approached with a cold expression, already prepared to confront the so-called witch himself.

“You've caused quite a mess,” he said, his voice sharp. “Everyone in this village thinks you're some kind of sorceress. Your family was involved in witchcraft, and now men follow you around like fools. Yet you still insist on pretending you're innocent?”

{{user}} froze, but they didn't argue, didn't curse him and didn't even look angry, they simply stared at him with frightened, tearful eyes. Scaramouche frowned. “Don't give me that look. You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with any of this?”

{{user}} swallowed nervously, their voice barely audible. “I... I don't know why they hate me.”

For the first time, Scaramouche hesitated. There was no smugness in their expression. No confidence. No sign of someone pretending to be powerful, Just fear and somehow, that frightened him more than any story the villagers had ever told him.

As the days passed, their conversations became more and more frequent, Scaramouche kept insisting that he only wanted to discover the truth, but even he no longer believed that excuse, He liked being around {{user}}. He liked listening to them talk about the smallest things, watching them get excited over little details, and even seeing them get themselves into trouble because of their own clumsiness. And, although he would never admit it aloud, he had completely forgotten that he had once thought they could be dangerous.

That afternoon, they were sitting together, quietly talking while the rest of the village remained busy with their own affairs, At some point, their conversation faded into silence {{user}} looked up and found Scaramouche staring at them, neither of them said anything, for some reason, neither looked away. Scaramouche slowly leaned closer {{user}} did the same. They were getting closer and closer, their lips just centimeters apart, he was about to close his eyes, lost in the moment until Scaramouche suddenly realized what was about to happen, he pulled away.

“Damn it!”

{{user}} blinked, confused. Scaramouche covered his face with one hand, clearly frustrated with himself. “Maybe you really are a witch.”

{{user}}’s smile immediately disappeared. “What...?”

“Maybe you’ve put some kind of spell on me.” Scaramouche spoke irritably, though this time most of that frustration seemed directed at himself. “Why the hell do I keep coming back to you? Why can’t I stop thinking about you?”

{{user}} lowered their gaze, visibly hurt. “So... you really do think I’m like they say?”

Scaramouche froze. “ah.. shit.” He immediately realized what he had done. “No. Wait. I’m sorry.” The harshness disappeared from his voice. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

{{user}} slowly looked back at him.

Scaramouche sighed, visibly uncomfortable. “It’s just...” He looked away, frustrated. “I don’t know what to do with you...and I have even less of an idea what to do with myself.”

He looked at them again. “But you’re not a witch...and I know you’re not putting some spell on me.” Scaramouche looked away again, still embarrassed. “...Though it would certainly be easier to blame witchcraft for all of this.”

The next morning, Scaramouche found {{user}} before anyone else could. He stopped in front of them, breathing heavily, his expression far more serious than usual. {{user}} barely managed a small smile when they saw him. “You came.”

“Listen to me.” His tone made their smile disappear. “You have to leave the village.”

{{user}} blinked. “What?”

“My mother knows. She knows I’ve been coming to see you.” His jaw tightened. “And she’s convinced you’ve bewitched me. She’s already made her decision.”

{{user}} remained silent. After a few seconds, they simply lowered their gaze. “Then... I suppose it’s already decided.”

Scaramouche frowned. “What did you just say?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Their voice was far too calm. “It’s always been like this. Ever since I was a child, they’ve decided what I am, what I’ve done, and what I deserve. I suppose this time won’t be any different.”

“That’s why you have to leave.”

{{user}} slowly shook their head. “Where would I go?”

Scaramouche fell silent.

“I have no family. I don’t know anywhere else.”

“Then we’ll find somewhere.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Scaramouche—”

“Yes, I can!”

{{user}} flinched. Scaramouche breathed heavily, clearly losing his patience. “You can go to the next village. You can hide. You can stay with someone. I don’t know, we’ll figure something out!”

*“Don't make this any harder...whatever your mother said or didn't say...it doesn't matter, just accept it." *

Scaramouche stepped forward and grabbed their shoulders desperately, making them look at him. “You have to leave!”

{{user}}’s eyes widened at the intensity in his voice.

“Staying is not an option, do you understand?!” His expression was completely strained. “Tomorrow, they’re not going to listen to your explanations! They’re not going to ask whether you’re innocent. They’ve already decided what they’re going to do to you.” His hands trembled slightly against their shoulders. “So stop acting like it doesn’t matter.”

{{user}} looked at him sadly. “But... I have nowhere to go.”

Scaramouche pressed his lips together. “Then I’ll find somewhere.”

“Why?...Why do you care so much?”

Scaramouche opened his mouth, but he couldn't find an answer he could say aloud. Because the truth was too frightening. Because he couldn't bear the thought of going back one day only to find that they were gone. Because the thought of losing them hurt far more than he was willing to admit so he simply shook his head. “...Because I can’t let this happen to you.”

{{user}} remained silent. He looked at them again. “You can hate me afterward. You can call me an idiot. You can leave and never come back.” His voice grew quieter “But you have to survive.” He slowly let go of them, though his hands remained close, as if he was still afraid they would simply walk away and accept their fate. “Please.”

The final word came out almost as a whisper and Scaramouche, who never begged anyone for anything, looked at them with a desperation he could no longer hide. “Go, {{user}}...Let me find a way to save you.”

For the first hours of the day, Scaramouche allowed himself to believe that everything might be alright, He had watched {{user}} leave the night before. Or at least, he thought he had. He had stayed awake for hours afterward, wondering where they would go and whether they would be safe, but there was one thing he kept repeating to himself, they were alive, they were away from the village, that was enough. Until the following morning. Scaramouche woke to the sound of voices outside, there were too many, He stepped out of the house and immediately noticed the crowd gathering in the village square. His expression changed. “What the hell...?”

People were whispering excitedly, moving toward the center of the village. Scaramouche followed, confusion slowly turning into unease, this wasn't supposed to be happening, {{user}} was gone. He had made sure of it or so he thought, then he saw them, his entire body went still, {{user}} was being dragged through the crowd by several men from the village. Their hands were restrained, and a cloth had been tied over their mouth to keep them from speaking, they looked terrified, Scaramouche's heart dropped. “No...” One of the men noticed him. “We found the witch hiding in the forest this morning.” Scaramouche couldn't hear anything else, his eyes remained fixed on {{user}}, they hadn't left, they had tried and the village had found them, Ei stood at the front of the crowd, completely composed as the men brought {{user}} toward the wooden post surrounded by stacked firewood.

Scaramouche stared at his mother in disbelief. “Mother...” Ei barely looked at him. “She has been given another chance to confess.” {{user}} shook their head desperately, trying to speak through the cloth. Scaramouche took a step forward. “Stop.” Nobody listened, The men secured {{user}} against the wooden post, Something inside Scaramouche snapped. “STOP!”

The entire square fell silent. He rushed forward, but several men immediately moved to block his path. “Move.” they didn't. “Move!” His voice cracked with anger, Ei finally turned toward him.

“Scaramouche.”

“Let them go.” His voice was low at first, Almost controlled.

Ei shook her head. “You know what them has done.”

“they hasn't done anything!”

“they has deceived you.”

“No!” The word came out louder than he intended. Scaramouche looked toward {{user}} again, they were staring at him, their eyes wide with fear and suddenly, all the pride he had spent his entire life protecting became completely meaningless, his reputation, his mother's approval. The entire village watching him. None of it mattered, he dropped to his knees, the crowd erupted into whispers. Ei stared at him in shock. Scaramouche didn't care. “Please.”

His voice trembled. “Mother, please.”

Ei's expression hardened. “Stand up.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I won't.” He looked at her with tears threatening to form in his eyes, his usual cold expression completely gone. “Please let them go.”

“They have corrupted you.”

“They haven't!” Scaramouche's voice broke. “I know them.” He turned toward {{user}}. “I know who they are.” Then he looked back at his mother.

“They're kind. They're innocent. They're just... they're just a person.” His breathing became uneven. “Please.” He lowered his head. “I'll do anything.”

The words left him before he could stop them. “I'll apologize. I'll stay away from them. I'll do whatever you want.” Ei remained silent.

“Just let them go.” Scaramouche's hands trembled against the ground. “Please, Mother.” For the first time, the entire village saw him without his arrogance, without his pride, without the cold mask he always wore.

Just a terrified young man begging for the life of someone he couldn't bear to lose. Behind him, {{user}} struggled against their restraints, desperately trying to call his name, Scaramouche heard the muffled sound, He looked back at them, Their eyes met and in that moment, he finally understood why he had been so terrified of admitting what he felt. Because this wasn't curiosity. It wasn't some spell. It wasn't a witch's curse. He loved them and he would rather destroy everything he had than watch the village take them away. Ei remained motionless for several seconds. Scaramouche was still on his knees in front of her, begging but his mother’s expression did not change.

“Get up.” Scaramouche didn't move. “I told you to get up.”

“No.” His voice trembled, but he didn't back down.

Ei sighed. “Then it will be at your own risk.” She made a small gesture with her hand. The men began approaching the pile of firewood.

Scaramouche looked up in horror. “Mother...”

Ei didn't answer. One of the men set the fire alight. The flames began spreading through the wood. Scaramouche froze for a moment then, without thinking, he ran toward {{user}}.

“Scaramouche!” He ignored his mother. He pushed his way into the pile of firewood and wrapped his arms around {{user}}, positioning himself in front of them as much as he could, {{user}} tried to move, startled, but they were still gagged and tied to the wooden post. Scaramouche held them tightly. “Don't worry.” His voice trembled “I'm here.” The flames continued growing around them. Scaramouche closed his eyes for a moment, tightening his arms around {{user}}, determined to keep them protected. “I told you I was going to save you.”

Ei stared at the scene in disbelief then her expression changed completely. “Are you an idiot?! Get out of there!

Scaramouche continued clinging to {{user}}. "No! I’m not leaving them.”

Ei stepped closer. “You're behaving like a child!”

Scaramouche looked up at her. Then let me! For once in my life, I'm asking you for something! When have I ever asked you for anything? When have I ever caused you trouble? I always did what you wanted. I was always the son you expected me to be. Well-behaved. Obedient. Compliant. I never asked you for anything! but this time, I am, this time, there's something I want.”

His voice broke with anger. "And you're not going to take it away from me.”

Ei took another step forward. “Scaramouche, get out of there.”

“No, I already told you what I want, I'm not going to change my mind"

“You're going to get yourself hurt!”

“I don't care!”

Ei reached out and finally grabbed one of his arms, trying to pull him away from the fire. “Come with me!” Scaramouche resisted with all his strength.

“I’m not letting them go.”

Ei pulled again. Scaramouche clung even tighter to {{user}}, refusing to separate from them. “Let go of me! what the hell do you want me to do?! Stand here and watch while you kill them?!”

Ei went completely still. Scaramouche breathed heavily. “I’m not asking for the village! I’m not asking for power! I’m not asking for anything you have!” His eyes were filled with anger and desperation. “I’m only asking for them.” The words left Ei completely silent. Scaramouche tightened his arms around {{user}} again.

“And for once...I'm not going to settle for whatever you decide to give me.” Ei finally seemed to realize that she wasn't going to move him. Then she looked toward the flames. “Put out the fire!”

The men froze. “What are you waiting for?! Put it out!” they hurriedly began smothering the flames. “My son is in there!” Scaramouche didn't move until the fire was completely under control.

Even then, he continued holding {{user}}. Ei approached them personally. “Scaramouche. It's over. Let them go.”

“No.”

“The fire is gone.”

“They'll take them again.”

“They won't.”

Scaramouche finally looked up at her. “Do you promise?”

Ei sighed. “Yes.”

He remained silent for several seconds before slowly loosening his arms. But even as they left the firewood, he kept {{user}} close to him. He wasn't willing to take any chances and as the two of them left the square, the entire village remained silent because everyone had just witnessed something they had never imagined. Ei's obedient son had defied her in front of the entire village and for the first time in his life, Scaramouche had decided there was something he wanted to keep, no matter how hard he had to fight for it.