Obsidian (2022)

3. Solitude and somber

Chapter 3

Solitude and somber

"To the good ones, we are all simply evil. To the evil ones, we are either born evil or somewhere on the way we became evil itself."

Rin slid through the door without a sound. The hallway was dark with the moonlight shining through the large glass windows. The poisoned guards were still in every corner of the cold hallways, with dried up blood on their chins, now lifeless corpses.

He gave a small bow and thanked them for their unwilling sacrifice.

His revenge was accomplished. As he walked out of the villa, the evening breeze hit his face and he inhaled the fresh air. But even the little revengeful pride that took over him, it didn't change the fact that he was standing in the middle of the place he used to play as a kid, now a piece of grassland parched by the sun. It signified nothing anymore.

The empty branches of the trees shook naked in the cold, no leaves or flowers to cover it. The thorns growing around the gates were wild and untamed. What a horrid sight of a Royal's home. It was mocking their name. His name.

His fist clenched in his pocket around his pendant. Taking it out, he tied the long cord around his neck and shoved it underneath his shirt. A faraway scream of the mountain lions cleared his mind. It was time to get out of there. Zipping up his white coat, he hid his face with the neck warmer and pulled his hood on.

By the break of dawn, he was in his home and retreated in his bedroom. In a couple of hours, the dreadful news of his dead cousin was also going to arrive in his manor and he was ready for his mourning role.

***

The indigo flags had swayed in the wind, of every Royal's manor outside, and inside Mirror City. The royal blue uniforms had been laid out that morning, the golden ribbons prepared, white gloves washed and the rings shined. The prime eight Royals had officially been ready for the funeral. The silence in each home has been inevitable. Even the staff was silent, to honor the grief of losing a member of the Royal family. Wisteria from their Royal gardens had now decorated the inside of their homes, something they had done traditionally for decades to honor the dead. The smell of the sweet purple flower lingered even beyond their property.

At exactly noon, the remaining of the fifteen Royals marched through the wide streets of Mirror City towards the funeral home in the very own center of the Capital. It was the largest funeral home in the city.

A large mass of people and reporters had gathered outside and watched aside, as the members of the Royal family, one by one crossed the bridge over the circle of water and entered the funeral home.

Inside, the marble floors were covered with an indigo carpet per request of the Head of State and the air conditioning was set so cold, each breath was visible.

The eight Royals stood still, as the body of their relative was being carried, covered in their National flag and Wisteria flowers. Soft flute melody echoed in the marbled funeral room.

Holding onto their carved pins, engraved with the national emblem, the Royals circled the funeral home and one by one, they dropped the pins in the massive fountain of mineral water.

She didn't cry, nor did anyone expect her to. The forbearing Head of State had, in all her grace, walked last and removed her hairpin, dropping it in the fountain per the tradition of sending the dead off with a gift. Her long black hair fell reaching below her waist. She walked back to her spot and remained silent until the ceremony reached its end and the deceased was sent off on his new journey.