berlin batalanto | district four | fin

His father told him that his last name meant 'warrior' but how can you believe that when your ancestors are long dead? Wiped clean from this earth with histories erased by the erosion of time? His first name, his father said, was a great city that had once existed, but had fallen to war and chaos. His name fit him like a thorn fit a rose. A fallen warrior. A phoenix from the ashes.

Berlin Batalanto Two ancient names that he carried on his back like Atlas. Like a fallen god. The boy has no time for ancient history or the lives of those who worn his name many years ago. Brandished it like the fists he brandishes every day in the gym. He only has the time and the patience for now. This moment. 

His days are spent training, constantly training. His mother and father wish he spent more time with his books and schooling, but they have resigned themselves to the fate that their son will never be an engineer. He was made to use his body rather than his mind. Honing it to perfection, like a knocked arrow. Ready to strike. 

He’s proud of being a villain, to break hearts, to split souls and to leave wounds wherever his mad eyes settle on. He could be a better person - kinder, gentler, less coarse.

But if he got rid of his demons, he'd lose his angels.

                                    {kou}