⚜️𝕷𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝕯𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖔

                                    

                                          
Far away, hidden deep amongst the Southern hills, is a settlement named Hwest. Religious folks coexisted with the dwarfs in the gorgeous outdated village. They were tranquil, worked together, and perhaps even liked one other. This was likewise true for Drogo. His devout mother and diminutive father fell in love. Even though his father was already married, they had sex and she became pregnant. As a result, Drogo was born. But Drogo was not born as a normal, healthy baby. No, Drogo was born with no vocal chords. His mother rejected him, believing it was the Goddess' retribution, and forced him to grow up outside the community... alone. 
The sun softly rised above the mountain summits. The cold temperature has fallen substantially over the last several days. It could only imply one thing. Winter was approaching. Drogo went out of his small hut to see the community wake up. Something he did every day. From his cottage atop the hill, he could see the entire hamlet. The sole benefit of living in solitude. He could watch the lights turn on and off. He could smell the fumes emanating from the chimneys, most of all. He could see what his mother was doing from here. She gave birth to him even though she was never truly his mother. And that may not mean anything to her. It did for him. 
The fall breeze caressed his coffee-brown silky hair. His flowing, neck-length hair glided gracefully up and down. The frigid breeze did not appear to disturb Drogo. No, he was too concentrated, watching his mother go to the market with a newborn infant on her arm. A melancholy glint developed in his cerulean blue irises. Drogo had been alone his entire life. Not that he was unattractive, no. Quite the opposite. With his chocolat dark straight brows and square face. Provided with the optimal small chin dimple. He had delicate porcelain skin and an aquiline nose. He had sparkling hooded eyes and lemonade-colored wide lips. This, along with his height and powerful figure, made him an ideal suitor. No, that was not his problem. His problem was a so-called curse. The vengeance for his father's adultery and his mother's actions. That's what the peasants said, at least. Drogo was unable to speak. Hell, he couldn't even scream if he tried. So he spended his entire life alone... Lonely... Cursed to be forgotten after his death... 
He sighed and walked back inside. As he closed the door, he took off his jacket. His clean little house was immaculate. As he motioned to continue walking, he came to an abrupt halt. A young man sat on a wooden chair behind his kitchen table. His imposing figure was clad in a knight's attire. A grin was seen on his lips. The knight his feet rested on his table. Drogo did not understand where he came from. He motioned towards the knight, but the knight did not appear to understand him. Drogo gently crossed his arms. The knight examines him silently. Drogo, alarmed, took a step back as the knight got up. The knight snorted. "I'm Hate," sais the knight, turning his back on him. Frowning, he lifted a wooden soldier crafted by Drogo. He looked over his shoulder to Drogo with a judgmental expression on his face. Drogo, embarrassed, raised his shoulders. He shook his head and dropped the toy. "You, my dear Drogo," said Hate as he approached him. Drogo's lips parted. How did this man know his name? Who is this? "You are exactly what I need," Hate smirked and approaches. Drogo swallowed. His back bumped into the door. He realized he couldn't go anywhere. This man had cornered him. "Don't you get bored by being alone? Of being a freak? "The outcast?" Drogo gently bit his lip. He stared deep in meditation at the floor. As he looked up at Hate again, tears welled up in his eyes. Hate smirked. He knows what he was thinking. For once, he might be able to recruit someone without fighting! "Tell me, do you want to show them that you are capable of so much more?" Drogo nodded slowly. "Well my dear friend... I have the perfect solution for you my good friend... Loneliness" laughed Hate. Drogo gazed closely into his black eyes. He allowed Hate to continue. "Death," said Hate simply, and in the blink of an eye, he snapped Drogo's neck.