Chapter 0:

What the Boy Promised

Our Paint and Love


"So pretty…"

An eight-year-old boy stood before a framed painting on the wall—his wide eyes taken as if it were the most stunning thing he had ever seen.

It depicted a woman sitting in the middle of the sea. Her body was covered in scales, her skin white as milk, and her long, flowing hair glistened under a blue sky. Perhaps the intricate coloring, her serene expression, and the grace of the waves beneath the rocks drew him in.

"Do you like your great grandfather's work, Enzo?"

His father's sudden voice nearly startled him, but he would ease his shoulders with a grin and nod.

Enzo belonged to the Fremonts family and was the son of the current head. Their family was renowned for their artistic influence over the city of Florence, having painted for royal families for generations since The Renaissance.

Today was his first time visiting the gallery dedicated to their long history of famous works. And so far, he especially liked this particular piece.

Curious about the woman in the painting, he took no time to ask questions.

"Why does she have a fish tail?"

"Why, that's a mermaid."

"A mermaid? Are they real?"

The father let out a chuckle. "Oh no, no, probably not. Although, I do remember hearing they were common to our ancestors back in the day." As if sensing Enzo's eagerness, he continued while trying to explain it so his son could understand. "They might look like humans, but they were also half fish. They live in the ocean, breathe underwater, and are incredibly intelligent. People said their scales could heal diseases and sell a lot for money, so they were often hunted. But one day...they suddenly vanished. Whether or not the stories are true, though, is a matter of legends now. But one thing I know is that your great grandfather certainly knows his craft. I mean, just look at it. Beautiful."

Enzo took a moment to let it all sink in. He frowned, feeling bad for the mermaids.

"Actually, I think I prefer Auntie Matilda's stuff a bit more. But I still think you're the best painter, Father."

"Aw now, you're making your old pops blush! Though, I don't think Matilda would be pleased to hear that she comes in second, haha. Maybe one day we will see your works on the wall too."

Holding onto that thought, Enzo glanced back at the painting. He then looked up at his father, his smile fading as he pondered. "Say, Father…do you think I can become a famous artist?"

The man scratched his chin. "A big question for a young boy to ask. Well, what do you think? You've been practicing with Calisto, right?"

Enzo didn't answer right away but instead seemingly became lost in thought. The voices of his cousin mocking his drawings rang in his head.

He bit his bottom lip.

"I...I really want to become good at it. I should get better with time, right—because we're prodigies? That's what everyone says."

He must've sounded nervous because his father ruffled his head right after he said that, causing his combed hair to stick up all over the place.

Silly? Sure. But it was his father's way of forcing out the hang-ups in his head. And it worked.

"H-Hey—"

"How about this," The father went down on his knee to meet Enzo's dazed gaze. They were full of warmth and understanding as if to comfort the troubling boy. "When we return home, I'll show you a cool project I've been planning to do. Don't tell anyone, though. This is a secret only between us." He gave a little wink.

"Really?" Enzo's face lightened up.

"Yes, really."

They exchanged smiles.

"When I grow up, I want to be just like you. Oh, I know! I'm going to attend the Royal Academia of Fine Art! I'll even draw a hundred sketches if I have to!"

"Aw, now you're getting ahead of yourself," the father said jokingly. "You'll have to work harder than that. It took me years to even remotely become a half-decent artist, you know! But don't fret, I'll make sure to take you to more exhibitions again, and you can see some truly amazing works."

He then placed a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. "I believe in you, Enzo."

                                                                            ⁕ ⁕ ⁕ ⁕ ⁕

Nobody knows how it happened.

Some said he jumped out of the sinking ship to save someone, while others believed the sea's wrath swept him away, never to be seen again.

Nonetheless, the Fremonts family suffered a significant loss that day.

News spread quickly to Florence of the tragedy, and a funeral was held in his honor the day after. Many mourned, but nobody felt it more profound than the son who was left behind.

Alonzo Fremonts

1845 - 1878

Cold rain pelted Enzo's face, but not even the uncomfortable sensation could make him flinch. He stood there with a bleak look, motionless as he stared at the gravestone before him. His reaction came slowly and unconsciously—his fists began to clench, and his muscles tensed until they suddenly throbbed in protest.

He wanted to cry…but the tears would not come. Instead, a single, muffled, suppressed sob escaped his throat, breaking the silence that hung in the air.

Alone.

Vforest
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muishiki
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Arashi Sensei
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corbin
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