#parthevia

So my new tablet has been driving me mad, I think I’ve finally managed to sort it though now. It is a lot more sensitive then my old one so I’ve had to do a lot of pen editing and this was a perfect piece to test it on. I didn’t stream it because it was a lot of me messing with pressure settings, texture settings etc rather then actually drawing and painting.

I ended up redrawing the whole line art again as well.

Rough starts

☛ Volume 1, chapter 2 of the SnB manga

“He’s the son of an expatriot.” Your mother whispered to you, her face adorned with a soft scowl. As a four year old girl, it was only natural you were confused. The word expatriot had never been used around you since your mother made it her duty to keep you away from people who didn’t contribute to the war in Parthevia. Despite not knowing what an expatriot was, the war was something that had been explained to you. It was necessary in order to make the Parthevia empire great and able to rule over other countries such as the Reim Empire. Everyone in Taison village - your village - had given away their boats, houses, money, everything! In order to help out. You always believed everybody contributed, that was, up until now.

“Mother. What’s an expatriot?” As if she hadn’t meant to use such a word infront of you, your mother knelt down. Placing your tiny fists in her larger hands that gently coaxed over the top of yours. Your mother was one of the most beautiful women in the village and just staring up into her face made you hope you could end up looking like her. Not only did she have beauty on her side, but she was amazing personality wise to. To her, everything was fragile and must be handled with care.

“My sweet little (Reader insert).” Began she. Her voice calm, not even above a whisper as she watched the young purple haired boy toddle from his house over to a near by, small harbor. Currently, both of you were in front of your wooden house. “An expatriot is someone who doesn’t contribute to the war. Someone who is selfish. Only out for themselves. Such a person is pure filthy, disgusting.” Your mother practically spat, seeming to become more agitated as she spoke on. The women seemed to catch onto his, and her eyes glazed over with an emotion you had yet to learn. “Promise me my darling girl, that you will never get mixed up with the likes of an expatriot or any of their blood line. I want you to stay golden. Just like you are now.”

Hearing and seeing your mother being this disapproving towards a group of people practically made your blood boil. You had yet to understand such motives, but you didn’t need to understand anything in order to harbor hatred now did you?

“I promise mother.” You agreed, placing a hand over the top of your heart. “As long as there is evil in this world. I won’t hesitate to help those strong like our soldiers defeat it. That’s the Parthevian way.” The answer seemed to satisfy your mother who stood to her feet.

“Good girl.” She praised, one hand ruffling your hair lightly. The sensation making you smile. “There are some things I need to take care of my sweet. Go inside.” At that, your mother waltzed away without a care in the world. Her thin dress flowing behind her. People parted just to let her walk through them, their heads down. Being the daughter father sure did help circumstances when having very little food and money. Your dad was a loyal Parthevia soldier, he worked hard and earned enough to support both yourself and your mother. Of course, due to his occupation he was biased towards the way your empire worked.

“As long as we work hard we get money. The others hardly work and look where that’s got them. No where. As a soldier I put my life on the line. That’s why we live in the best possible way we can. They just mope around and give things to the empire to assist with the war. Assistance is as good as they get, that’s why, they live as they are. Low.”

His words stuck into your heart like a thorn in a finger. Your father knew what he was talking about after all. He was a soldier and that is why your family is so well respected around Tison village. Unfortunately for both of your parents. Being only four years of age, curiosity was a big part of growing up and knowing about expatriots made you want to investigate further. Remembering your promise to your mother, you decided to stay as far away as these disgusting people as possible. The harbor was quite close to your house fortunately, so if your loving mother asked any questions. You could tell her you were exploring, something you always loved to do.

Venturing to the harbor, your tiny body squeezed between two large barrels and you held a finger to your lips. “Stay quiet (Reader insert), don’t blow this.” It would be amusing if somebody was there to witness it. It seemed as though you were one of those children who told themselves to do something, yet did the opposite without realizing it. Leaning forwards, you listened intently to hear what the two boys were saying. You had a hunch that the purple headed males were father and son. You were four, but not stupid after all. It seemed as though the elder of the two had been fishing judging by his net which was full of the aquatic creatures.

“You’re so stingy daddy why can’t I go!?”

“You’ll be in the way! How can I let a kid ride with me?”

“I’m not a little kid! I’m already five!”

“That’s what the world calls a kid!”

“Why? You stupid daddy!…I just…I just.” Even for you the atmosphere was quite tense. You hadn’t realized your tiny fists clenching on your dress just by watching the scene unfold. Your mother was right, expatriots were truly grotesque. They had no idea how to raise their off spring either obviously, as the child only a year older then you was beating up his lowly father. Huffing, you turned on your heal. Ready to storm away from such a terrible sight.

“I just want to do something for my daddy who only has one leg.” Two things from this grabbed the attention of your tiny self. The first thing was the fact somebody could even have one leg? You didn’t even notice the man was missing one thanks to his long robe. The second thing was the fact such a violent act to turn into something so sweet. It was almost mirroring your actions whenever your father would come home for a day just to go back later. In that short space of time. You wanted to do everything you could to help him. You supposed they were still human. Still trying to cope with hardships. Were they really so different after all?

“I see…so you’ve been worrying about me, huh? This leg is a result of my own actions. It’s no ones fault that I wasn’t strong enough. For me, it acts as a reminder that I’m still alive and kicking. So you don’t have to worry about that, Okay?” The young boy still frowned, causing his father to mimic the action. “What!?” The father started up again, rather comically. “Is there something wrong? Don’t worry!” His arms clasped around the small boy, lifting him gently off the floor. It was a similar position to you and your mother only but a few moments ago. “When your older and a little bigger. I’ll take you out as much as you like! When that time comes! I’ll really put you to work!”

“Daddy~!”

“That’s why kids should take the time to eat and sleep a lot while they can, got it?”

“Yup! Got it!” Though, like all good things. They must soon come to a bitter end.

“Hey! What are you doing?” The one sentence was enough to draw your attention as well as the attention of the two boys. You looked towards a group of new comers. They glared harshly down at the vibrant haired pairing, fists clenched, knuckles white and faces unholy. Your mother, was one of them.

“Don’t tell me…you wouldn’t be fishing here would you?” A man you thought looked familiar began before your mother interjected.

“Badr.” Tutted your mother. “Now not only are you being as filthy as always. But your bringing your son into your ways to? How predictable.” The elder purple haired male who you now knew as Badr. Stayed seated on the floor beside his son. Ignoring the harsh words and instead smiling.

“Oh! You guys are from the village right? What a coincidence that we meet here…is there something wrong with us fishing here?” As soon as those words left his mouth, a string of vile sentences came from the other villagers of Tison village including your mother.

“All you care about is fishing!”

“Hmph…no shame!”

“You have some nerve!” Finishing it off, your mother sneered. Her usually perfect face rivaling that of a monster. You had never seen such ferocity rise up from somebody you were so close to. It scared you.

“Filthy expatriot!” A few more “expariot” slurs followed afterwards from a few more people. The hostility only rising. You thought…No you hoped, that was it over and finished. That such verbal abuse had finished the argument. Badr said nothing back, keeping his calm, one of his arms raised over his young son to keep him shielded but your mother seemed to want to teach Badr more of a lesson then you desired her to. With a swift click of her fingers, men began piling over. The one you had recognized earlier being the main attacker. Using his bulky hands to grasp at Badrs clothing, his fists collided with many different spots on his body including his defenseless face. Your tiny (Eye color) eyes widened. Hands instantly clasping over your mouth to muffle out your cries of protest. If your mother knew you had broken your promise, you would be in big trouble. The sound of flesh being hammered down on was enough to cause you to cringe, was this truly what expatriots deserved? Your young mind couldn’t comprehend such abuse and before you knew it. Beautiful laughter rang out across the clearing.

“W-what’s so funny?” The attacker asked in disbelief. Badr simply continued to laugh, the smile never leaving his face.

“Haha…sorry, sorry. For a bunch of villagers, you guys are overzealous about the war.” What kind of fruit was that? “It made me laugh. Unfortunately, I have no interest in what’s happening to this country.” Base paused for a second, catching his breath before continuing. “Will tomorrow be a clear day? Do I want wine with dinner? I honestly don’t think of much else. It’s unfortunate for zealots like you.” The disbelief on everyone’s faces was obvious. You knew expatriots were bad but this. This gave a whole knew meaning to the word traitor it seemed. Growling, your mother whispered.

“You won’t get away with that Badr! Stop Messing around with us!” The final punch, was defiantly the worst. Your body visibly began shaking, staring at the culprit but now, you honestly couldn’t be sure who the culprit was. Was it the expatriot? Or was it the man who had attacked another villager with only one leg and left his son to witness it? The villagers took their leave after practically demolishing Badrs boat, and in order to stay hidden from your mother you crouched lower. Sighing in relief when they disappeared around the corner. After a few more seconds you jumped out quickly from your hiding place. Panic over taking you.

“H-hey you!” Your whole body froze and turned to see who spoke to you. It was he, the young boy who you still didn’t know the name of. “P-please help me! Please help my daddy!” At such a young age, you were torn between the love of a mother and the feeling of wanting to help a victim. Choices were hard, and at that moment you learned the easy way out was always the best.

“No.” You whispered defiantly. Not able to look him in the eye. “Your nothing but an expatriot…”

Later that day, you kept your distance from your mother. She didn’t seem to mind, busy with house work and cooking anyway. Sitting cross legged on the floor, you stayed silent. The plush cushion beneath you keeping you from complaining about having a sore bottom.

“(Reader insert).” Smiling, you looked up to your mother who had addressed you. Her voice seeming to be a lot more caring then it was earlier. It made you feel at ease, knowing that around you. She would always be her true, wonderful self. “I’m sorry to have to ask you my sweet. But could you fill up the jug? I need the water.” Excitedly you jumped up from your seat.

“Of course mother!” Swiftly, you picked up the jar and began running. Your mother always gave you the small jug, knowing otherwise you wouldn’t be able to handle carrying it whilst it was filled with water. Despite this, it was still hard to lug, and even harder fetching water. You were only half way towards the well by now and fatigued weighed down on your body causing you to groan and slump to the floor. “I-I can’t do it…” you whispered. Wanting to cry out for help but you couldn’t see another adult around. Whimpering, you stood to your feet. As if by a stroke of pure luck, you found a small boy around your age also carrying a jug, though he seemed to be doing a much better job. Smiling over towards him you asked rather nervously. “H-hey you! Please help me!” For a moment, everything went in slow motion and Deja vu hit you hard just like if you were running 50 miles per hour into a brick wall. It was him. The same boy who had asked for your help not to long ago. Breath hitched in your throat and almost if ashamed, you looked down. Turning back to your jug, your hands clasped around the edges. Ready to try again but you just couldn’t. Tears pricked at your eyes. All you wanted was for the expatriot brat to leave. This would only give him the right to make fun of you and you wouldn’t allow someone so lowly to belittle you, you just wouldn’t!

“You’re doing it wrong. No wonder your so out of breath.” Golden eyes bore into your own, causing a tiny blush to appear on your cheeks. “Are jugs are the same except mines full of water. I just got back from the well cause I’m a proper man!” That sentence made his eyes flash angrily, but he seemed to hold back. “I’ll help carry mine back to your house and then I’ll come back and fill this one up and take it to mine. How does that sound? Please don’t cry…” Unsure if this boy recognized you or not. You bit your lip using a small finger to whipe your eye free from any tears.

“Do you remember who I am?”

“Of course I do.” The answer came from his lips so smoothly you thought it he didn’t care. “Your the meanie who was mean to me and daddy…” he grumbled. Your eyes narrowed, ready to retaliate to his words. However, before you could utter out any sort of reply, his own chubby hands rested above your own. “But what kind of boy leaves a girl to struggle?” Oh…how cute. Your cheeks heated over even more and embarrassment caused you to look down to your feet.

“My names (Reader insert)…what’s yours?” He was silent for a moment, and you dared yourself to glance back up to the purple haired boy, the joy that emitted from his cheeky grin, caused you yourself to smile.

OH!!!!! AHAHA! i knew eventually someone would ask this XD im probably the only person in the fandom in love with him (〃￣ω￣〃)

honestly, i started liking ceylan by accident. i got into magi loving all the characters, but somehow i always end up loving the minor characters a little more ahaha! 

what really intrigued me is the fact that ceylan is the king of parthevia. i know parthevia is supposed to be based off of ancient persia and being half-persian myself, i was quickly drawn to the parthevians! XD plus he’s very cute in snb, and handsome in magi XDD

i guess what i love about him the most is his very subtle character development. we know next to nothing about him, yet apparently he went from a weak, sickly child (as we see in snb) to someone strong and level-headed as he interacts with alibaba. we know he’s been through a lot, losing his father and his sister and others around him, and having his country torn apart in a horrible war that was out of his hands.