Diamante | SVT

XXXIII

•••

The moon shines at its peak, time almost near midnight. He titters as fast as he could, yet made sure his steps made no  noise. The halls were deserted, only portraits on the wall can see what he is up to.

The steps falter as they reach the end of the hall, his cloaked figure warily glancing to see if anyone has followed.

Knocking on the blue accented door, three consecutive taps before twisting the knob.
The room was dim, only a single candle burned in the center of the elongated, wooden table giving them light.

He sat near the small cloaked figure, who hissed at him to move, before returning his attention to the table.

One more figure enters, all greeting him as he sat at the other end.

"I see that everything is set accordingly. Lady luck is on our side."

The voice echoes in his head, as he tries not to feel disoriented with many voices swarming in his mind, he could never get used to the telekinesis magic being used but he has no choice. It was a safety protocol as to not recognize each other. 

"The first step is already in motion."

Another figure on his left answers, his cloak seemingly to big for him, as it sags on his shoulders.

"Will they be able to figure it out?" The figure adjacent to his questions, his pale hand twitching.

"In due time, they will."

"As expected, make sure you watch each and every one of them carefully."

"We will."

"I hope he didn't suspected a thing."

"He may, he's not foolish after all. But I'm convinced his curiosity will be his demise."

Their laughter rings through, the candle flicking restlessly, the shadows on the wall dancing, creating a rather dreary atmosphere.

"We must be patient, it may take long but it will be worth it."

"What about the other princes?"

"The princes can wait."

Protests exploded left and right, but he held a hand up, stopping them. An ominous grin can be seen as he taps his hand on the wood. A resemblance of chess pieces forming on top of the table.

The figure reaches a hand, touching a pawn.

"In a game of chess, pawns are important. We can use them in any way we want. We can move them forward and attack as we pleased. No need to rush."

"The princes will be our pawns." He picks the pawn in his hand, throwing it across the room.

"The king, its protected by the pawns, horses, bishops, and rooks, its the most important piece in the game."

He picks the 'king' piece, twirling it around. He reaches for the candle on the table and lights the wooden piece.

"But to us, he's not important. Do you know why?"

No one dared to answer, all lowering their heads.

"Which piece moves freely? Which piece can render us all dead and useless? Which piece is well equipped that can execute any piece? Which piece protects all?"

He gingerly picks the 'queen' piece, showing it for everyone to see. He grips it in his hand, slowly turning it into ashes. He chuckles, grin stretching even wider.

"We must take down the Queen."

•••

The two of them were the only ones left, still rooted in their seats, cloaks removed to reveal tears gliding down his ample cheeks.

"Don't cry, hyung."

He moves closer to the other, using the sleeve of his cloak to wipe them. They stay like that for a while, he lets him cry his wounded heart out, of years of agony and the burden he carried finally weighing down on him. He grabs the the other by the torso, burying his face.

Moments later when his sobs recede into hiccups, he pulls away, coming face to face with the other.

"I'm sorry."

The younger shakes his head, "I should be the one who's sorry, hyung. Because of me, you suffered so much."

His places his hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly, "No, don't ever think that. I'll gladly take all the pain to keep you safe."

"I've become too much of a burden to you, hyung."

"You're not a burden. Never. You're my brother. You're the only one I have left. So be strong, don't let your guard down, show no fear and weakness to others. Okay?"

The younger nods, giving him a tight smile.
"I will, hyung." He says, hugging him before standing up and leaving the older alone in the room.

The older breathes a tired exhale, eyes set on the ceiling. The plan must prevail. He already lost his parents, his older brother sacrificed his life for his sake, now his younger brother is the only one left.

Wiping the remaining tears that stained his cheeks, he slips off the cloak and hides it. He flattens the wrinkles on his clothes, shedding his facade into a new one.

Stepping out of the room, he slips his attendant persona on and walks down to do his duty.

He needs to be strong to survive.

The world they live in doesn't need weak people.

Because if you're weak, you lose.

If you're weak, you'll die first.