#worldcakecakecake

Although he hated rising in the early mornings, he was slowly starting to get used to waking at the very first sunlight that entered through the small window of blinds in his room. With his curls everywhere, probably hanging at the other side of the bed, completely opposite of where he had fallen the night before, he would arise suddenly, eyes wide open with a big grin that greeted the new day in anticipations. The sheets around his naked body would be a mess that only made him tumble every morning, falling to the floor a normal occurrence. Lovino, who was in the room right next to his, was unfazed by the constant bumps, going along with his own preparations uncaring. Feliciano always found a way to head out of his room alive no matter the chaos of his morning preparations, so Lovino learned he really shouldn’t care that much.

Feliciano headed out in a haste, dressed in his black uniform, seals showing he was only in the beginning of his training, the same two leathered books in his hold. One was a type of notebook for him to use for Ludwig’s teachings and then there was the sketchbook his nonno gave him.

By the time he did his usual running through the halls, the base was just awakening, filling it in members preparing for the day of teachings, training, healing, missions, returning or looking for some time to spend with others in different hobbies. Feliciano would greet happily those he knew, from balconies, to terraces, by fountains, to even different rooms he passed by. His first stop was the cafeteria, where most were already lining up for their breakfast, but Feliciano didn’t need to take it, there was only one particular thing he wanted.

“Just the person I was waiting for,” their French cook turned, already holding a tray with his chocolate filled pastry and coffee.

Simple, but it was Feliciano’s ideal.

“Thank you, Francis…hmmm…” he took a whiff of the coffee.

“With a dash of Hazelnut,” Francis assured.

“You know best!”

“Heard you’re only missing a couple of more lessons until your power training, something to look forward with what your Mars heritage and everything.”

“Yeah…” to be honest Feliciano was not really that excited to use a power that was meant for killing. “…But I also have cardio,” he groaned, utter misery that pained his muscles already.

“You’re still in body training? That’s usually done in a couple of weeks. Aren’t you going into your third month?”

“As you can tell I’m not that good, but Ludwig got tired of waiting for my body to adjust so he decided to just go straight to the lessons and researching and hope it doesn’t strain anything for when my power training starts.”

“Ludwig, ever the impatient one. With you it’s like he’s working under a countdown. He should take it easy, he’s being a little too harsh.” Francis petted him sweetly, a caress that reminded Feliciano of an older brother.

Feliciano rolled his eyes, “that’s what my grandfather would have wanted though.”

“I wish you luck as always! I’ll have a bowl of borlotti beans and sausage stew waiting at lunch for you.” Feliciano was ecstatic and already eager, but it meant that midday would just come much slower.

Taking the tray he quickly found his usual breakfast spot, a high table decorated with flowers the servants would pick from outside. For this week they placed pink and purple carnations around the room beautifully. Oh he had to draw this! So while taking sips of his coffee and bites of his pastry, his right hand was dedicated on the drawing. He would only stop to give greetings, receiving the same comments of ‘Drawing again?’ ,‘Always with that sketchbook in hand’, ‘Distracted even when eating’. Occasionally a group of young girls would pass, to which he gave his charming smile or a wink and they all answered with the same shouting glee, giggling pass with the same waves. A group of men were just coming to join him, all with smirks and ready for any kind of flirting chance they could get.

“Feliciano! It’s eight!” Francis shouted.

“Oh right!” He took one last swig of his coffee and hurried off, sketching away still in his haste and leaving the boys in disappointment.

Feliciano continued through more halls of greets, of the morning routine, of people going through here and there, with weapons, with books of power and control, magical items or even their own quick breakfast. Feliciano stood out rather odd for a Valenti, who the base was used to seeing as the symbols of power, with the most fearsome weapons, the most mysterious books, the strongest armor and an air of dignity that reminded many of emperors and kings. Yet here was the youngest heir, with the beginner uniform with no seals of earning, a friendly outlook with a kind charming beauty that was more reminiscent of a prince, holding only but two simple books, one of notes and another for his sketching.

As always, he would suddenly stop to look at the new hoard Elizabeta was bringing in from the arrival central, holding a clipboard and marking everything that had arrived. She wasn’t surprised to find Feliciano already eyeing, looking for certain particular items that she quickly pointed to once Feliciano noticed she had been staring.

“Good morning, Feliciano,” she wished with a chuckle.

“Morning, Elizabeta, so um…”

“Did we get new colors and paints?” She opened the crate where they lay, the entirety filled with a rainbow of jars, pencils and markers to the sides of the highest value. “Yes, yes we did, from our Bulgarian base, made by witches, but as long as we’re concern they don’t have any kind of magical properties, just really good materials,” she introduced, taking some jars, brushes and pencils out to show him.

“Can I…?” Feliciano pointed shyly.

Elizabeta rolled her eyes but ended up throwing some of the materials to him, which he got safely in the cradle of his arms.

“You’re the only one who really gives these things use. If I could I would give you the whole box.”

Feliciano chuckled appreciative, trying to hold everything well towards his hold.

“What kind of new drawings have you made?” She asked curiously as she kept moving boxes from one pile to another.

“Look!” He quickly showed the last one of the carnations he was making.

“Oh, these look beautiful,” Elizabeta complimented, taking hold from one side of the book.

“Thank you, I’m also working on these drawings…” He turned the pages until he showed one of a Tuscan valley, two masked men fighting with elegant swords, a witch brewing a potion, going on with all kinds of stories that could fit the pictures, and finally there was a portrait, of no other than Feliciano’s private instructor, one he had taken of him in deep thought and concentration, but as powerful as he outshone to everybody. Elizabeta admitted it was amazing, something the very man should hang proudly in his office.

“Distracted and infatuated, huh?” Elizabeta teased.

“Oh please, no, he just happened to look perfectly handsome for that moment and I had to sketch it,” Feliciano excused, bringing the sketchbook to a close.

“Right, right, which reminds me, don’t you have a session with him in a couple of minutes?”

“I actually do.”

“Then get going or else I have to listen to Ludwig complain about you coming late again,” Elizaveta rolled her eyes and with a final wave Feliciano was continuing his way down the base.

He had been sure he would get there on time, that nothing would interrupt again his route, but his eyes suddenly caught one of the tapestries that hanged. It was of a werewolf, one resting, at peace, unlike any monstrous depictions Feliciano had seen. The image itself sparked an idea, one that he immediately acted upon by sitting on the edge of a wall, opening his sketchbook and already beginning. Yes, a kind werewolf, one that would be soft to rest upon, that would save others, with no vicious eyes and teeth, no haunting shadow fur, but a kind spirit that he could trust. He drew a similar to the one in the tapestry, although more holy, like something you would find in the glass of a church, with chance, kindness and just a creature Feliciano wished he could see more often in his dreams instead.

“Feliciano!” He heard a fellow Jamaican member, Anthone, call, with a teasing smile, watching from afar with Sefina by his side, who was a Samoan member, giggling beside her friend. “Shouldn’t you be getting somewhere?”

Feliciano sighed in disappointment, cursing how everybody in this base knew his schedule. Perks of being the grandson of the leader he guessed.

He stood and moved away…still sketching away on his werewolf and being more attentive to it than his actual surroundings, not noticing as he missed the spray of a fountain, as he went straight through the testing of a slicing object, somehow moving in amazing avoidance to the crowds that grew as he went through the market place.

Keron Montaje crashed into the day with a loud opening of his door, not caring that he almost hit a young woman coming into his same room complex. He was too preoccupied on making sure his dark hair was slicked back well, his beard and moustache trimmed to perfection, his uniform, with high shinning seals fitting in exactness to his large body, toned with experience of hunt. Behind him came his younger sister, Pisa Montaje, a more petite woman of intense dark skin, quite a large contrast to the paleness of her older brother and her very own shinning white hair. She apologized to the woman in favor of her brother, but the woman moved along with clear distaste still in her expression.

“You should be careful,” she meekly told him.

“About what?” Of course he hadn’t noticed and wasn’t bothering to care, now especially when he set his own attention on the routes of the base, his mind thinking about what kind of activity he should do today. Should he ask for a hunt? Should he take in a group of apprentices? Should he train that ice spell he recently learned? His mind couldn’t bother to continue thinking about these things when they instead fell on the young Valenti, making his way, soon to pass alongside him, ah yes. He tapped his sister shoulders and pointed, which earned a roll of her eyes.

“Yes, Feliciano Valenti, drawing as per usual in that sketchbook of his.” Pisa saw no difference.

“You fail to see that this is one of my chances.” And he began to prepare his uniform yet again, making sure his more powerful seals were shown and that the jacket was tight enough to reveal the contour of his muscles.

“Another one of your failed attempts?”

“Those past ones were simply not made in the right moment, he must have been distracted, stressed, no doubt Ludwig’s doing.” He always seemed to growl whenever the name was mentioned.

“Mhm,” Pisa refused to believe.

“Don’t doubt in me! I still stand by my own decree that Feliciano will be mine by the end of this year,” he still promised.

“Your homosexuality has never been clearer. I don’t get the big deal, yeah I mean, sure, he’s really cute, but nothing to get all fussed about after he hasn’t shown the same interest in you.”

“Just cute? My dear, he’s one of the human jewels of this base, going alongside Lovino, Antonio, Pedro and Herakles.”

“Why don’t you go for those other ones then?”

“Oh, but they don’t have his smile, his youth, his innocence, his vulnerability. He’s like a prince waiting for his rescue and who else to be that knight to save him,” he was convinced.

“Or to have him as an excuse to get the family power and riches,” she raised an eye, not at all convinced that he was doing this out of some righteous romance.

He glared at her and she hid a giggle under the palm of her hand. “I want him because of his beauty, his power and stature. I have proven to be just as dignified for it and will not rest until he is bedded!” He bellowed, Pisa worried that the entire base would hear it, much to her embarrassment.

“Well you better continue proving…he just passed right by us without so much as a glance towards you,” she noticed.

Feliciano indeed moved past them without a care, into the areas of the market filled with activity and crowds. Keron disappointed, even grew angry, sending a blame to his sister, but never mind, he could still reach him, he could find an excuse to talk. This was the marketplace, one of the places in the base with the most chatter. He also forget to mention heavily full, people constantly crashing into others, covering, sure to get lost anybody who dared defy it trying to meet another person who continued to move between it in faster speeds, with pure intent in reaching where he had to, especially when he was already late as it was.

It was futile, even as Keron called he could not get his attention, leaving him in a groan, close to angering, shouting it on blame to somebody who was near…until his eyes fell on a table of women clearly gawking at him. It was to be expected when Keron was known as a member of high stature, a fierce handsome warrior that surely many in the base swooned over and tried to find whatever chance for his presence. These particular women called for him that moment, a ring of their hands, of their pretty eyes and bodies and soon Keron was following to join.

These will make do. He would have Feliciano another time.

The only time Feliciano really crashed against something was the door to this particular entrance, but the action made him realize that he had arrived to where he had to. He closed his sketchbook and got the book with his work, proud of the papers he had drawn and written, actually quite excited to hand in. Into the building, up the flight of stairs and into the halls filled with presence of other higher ups, mostly teachers and instructors who didn’t fail to greet Feliciano as per usual. Ludwig’s office was one of the top ones, in a deep and singular hall meant to give the man as much privacy and space as possible, always a question as to why in Feliciano’s mind.

Ludwig always expected him not to knock, his student would always just barge in, a mess in his hands, sometimes tumbling, sometimes letting something fall or dropping some other item Ludwig held in the office. He had grown a special tolerance to just work along in his writing while Feliciano tried to settle himself in the frontal chair he always let out for him.

Why was it so hard for him to just take his seat and keep still?

Once he was finally ready, the first thing Feliciano did was present forward his work book, papers sticking out, surely the report he was supposed to work on. Feliciano opened the cover and presented the first one. “My report on the readings you sent me about the Goranka robes. All types of levels of the Balkan bases are represented.” He turned the pages so he could see the eloquent drawings he had made of the distinct dark robes. Feliciano had to admit that they were quite a beauty, sometimes making him wish he was at a higher position just to wear them.

Ludwig looked on uninterested, moving it to the side to later correct.

“My report on currency and how to properly exchange in the suddenness of a mission." He moved it forward, Ludwig pushed it to the side as well.

“And my report on the beginner robes of the western European bases, the Cesarina.” He pushed the final one, opening to the drawings he made of the very robes he had to wear while in the base. It was the one Ludwig examined the longest, quickly pointing his finger.

“You drew the insignia in the belt wrong and the sleeves do not hold those designs. I think you got confused with the intermediate ones. I’ll accept it still since I have to read your writing, but I expect you to hand me a correct one for tomorrow.” He took out a book, landing it harshly on the desk for Feliciano to take, which held clearer and more specified pictures of the robe so this time Feliciano didn’t have a chance at wronging their design. Ludwig was giving him a break by just giving him pictures to better understand instead of just reading about them, but it did not erase the distaste Feliciano was feeling about this.

“All right, that’s all your reports, now-” and he opened his hand expecting.

Feliciano’s eyes trembled, he nervously bit his lips, one hand reaching into his pocket to get the stone, slow in taking it out, afraid of the response Ludwig would give once he saw the number presented in it. It was dropped on his palm, Ludwig brought it closer to himself to analyze, instantly a disappointed huff.

“Feliciano, I asked you to do ten pushups, fifteen squats, and a three mile run.” Ludwig then dropped the stone harshly, his expression boiling, the results clear for both of them to see, for Feliciano to know why Ludwig was this mad. “You only ran half a mile, six squats and didn’t even do pushups. What is your excuse?”

Feliciano sat on in silence, eyes avoiding, fingers tapping under his chair, trying to think of the proper words to tell him.

“I got…tired,” was the weakness he could say.

Ludwig groaned and rolled his eyes, “you are behind, Feliciano, embarrassingly so. By this point you should have already taken your first field examination. I had to beg your grandfather to leave you for the next one and decided to combine your researches and book readings. This is not easy to deal with, and I would deeply appreciate it if you could please help me by being more hardworking and punctual for what I send you. We really need to finish your first year on schedule.” He tried hard from letting his voice rise, from letting the pure rage be seen in his eyes and from even smashing his fists against the table in his desperation. Even without doing any of these things, Feliciano could sense it still, reigning like an intimidating cloud that made him tremble, biting his lips and his grips on the chair tightening. Feliciano didn’t know what to properly tell him afterwards, remaining silent, strong to withstand other words of scold, but even Ludwig was getting tiresome with this, only letting a deep sigh reign as he brought forward a hand to rub at his head. Once again he handed him the stone.

“I’m giving you today after our lesson to fulfill the exercises, if not, I would have to go to your grandfather.”

Feliciano had determined himself to doing so then, he really did not feel like having the added scold of his grandfather this week. He nodded and held the stone with promise and Ludwig could confide that he would do it this time…but how many times had that already happened? First time teaching a single student and already it was proving harder than having a group, but perhaps it had to do with what he was expecting from Feliciano by the end of the year.

The Venetian Mark, the Bronze stare, the Eros curl, the Blood of the land of Beauty, the 13th…he was nowhere near to proving himself in any of these spells, as being the one to break his curse, but he would have to keep pushing and trying, he had to.

“Our lesson today will be on vampires-”

  Instead of actually going to run those miles after his lesson, he found himself being called elsewhere, to a little workshop that he always found the time to visit. It was the late afternoon, by then everybody was already leaving their classes, returning from field practice or missions, from work, from researching, to head to the main dining room for dinner. Of course, Feliciano was one of those plenty that would rush off at the first calling of food, but he also knew that it was at this time that the workshop was mostly empty, only but one presence still working on, enjoying from the silence and the singularity.

His brother hummed a song silently, a thin paintbrush working over the newly formed wood. He was at peace, he was smiling, his head surely adding and thinking to the things he could add to the craftsmanship of this sword. Feliciano took silent steps down the stairs, admiring the serene air that his brother of all people actually settled here. Not wanting to disturb it so harshly but wanting to still be a part of it, he leaned close enough to notice the blue he used, the intricacy of the handle, the shining blade and the blankness that left for more to happen.

“Oh Lovino, it looks absolutely beautiful,” he complimented, letting his head lean closer.

Lovino did give him a rise of his eyes, a part of him angry about his sudden entrance after he found just the right peace, but the way Feliciano admired his work made him smile and accept, letting himself grab another paintbrush with white to start on the designs of stars.

“Thanks, but do you think it would be enough for Toris?” Lovino still faltered.

“It’s much more than what he asked for. He’ll love it! Probably just put it to decorate in his base room instead of using it to fight.”

Lovino chuckled, cleaning some pieces and dust from the handle, deciding that it needed some extra scrapping before he started on the paint there. “Doubt it. He’s really counting on it. There’s been an uproar of werewolves sightings in the Baltic area and he really needs this kind of weapon along with the blessing of my spell, I just overdid the design, bored I guess." He tapped against it rather embarrassingly.

“But it’s still so wonderful! Toris would probably give it a lot of meaning and feel so cool when using it.” Feliciano could already dream it.

“Eh, I guess you’re right. Would help to make that guy more intimidating. He needs it with all the wimps in that base.”

“Don’t be so rude, this kind of job is not easy,” Feliciano pouted, understanding that base’s known cowardice that he felt in this more prestigious one.

“Well they still have to get over it if they plan on staying. That kind of facing would end up killing them one day.” He went back to designing, occasionally balancing to make sure that everything still stuck together.

Feliciano settled with just watching by taking his seat near a stool, wondered at every stroke and touch he made.

“So hey, how were your lessons with potato bastard today?” Lovino was curious as he began with painting some purple.

“We started on vampires,” he admitted, not wanting to groan and sadden with the rest that happened.

“Took you long enough.”

“I handed in my reports."

“Good."

“I have to re-do some of them."

“Knowing Ludwig, was it something stupidly small?”

“Kind of.”

Lovino rolled his eyes, “bitch.”

“And I…um…”

“You what?”

“I got scolded for not doing my exercises,” Feliciano pouted.

“As much as I dislike the potato, I agree that you have to keep working on them. It’s necessary in the field and can help you to better take tactics. So yeah, fucking work on your training,” he scolded himself, earning a roll of Feliciano’s eyes.

“It’s not going to make much of a difference in my case."

“If you want to become a strong fighter, it will.”

“But how many times have I told you that I don’t want to.”

“Don’t start this bullshit.” Lovino didn’t feel like going at this topic again, cleaning his brushes, a sign that he would finalize on his work for the day. Feliciano decided on remaining silent, slumping against his raised knees, leaving any arguments in his head and for Lovino to go on in his cleaning.

“What are they even serving up today?” Lovino asked as a good way to change any tenseness that might settle.

“Vegetable stew, Oeufs en meurette, Russian salad, paella and fruit and nuts granola for dessert.”

Lovino groaned, “I miss eating at home.”

“I do too. I miss mamma’s Fettuccine pasta,” he could almost salivate it in his tongue as he remembered it.

“Her gorgonzola with figs and honey,” Lovino thought he might as well join.

“Easter lamb!”

“And her focaccia sandwiches,” Lovino moaned and indeed he wanted to join in Feliciano’s desire to be at that familiar table once again.

“But well…we have Russian salad,” Lovino rolled his eyes as he finished packing everything in its bag and placing it in his locker.

“It can’t be that bad."

“I can already see myself having to sneak into the kitchen tonight,” he dreaded, picking the keys and his bag to leave.

“Can I join you?”

“If I feel like it when I wake up.” He brought his arm around Feliciano’s neck and pulled him close to him as they made their way out.

“Aw come on, some brother bonding time before you leave to the Baltic base to bring the sword."

“That trip is in two weeks, Feliciano.”

And out they were to the routine of their dinner nights, door shut and the workshop brought into darkness and sure silence this time.