I alone am the honoured

our terms and conditions consist of hate

"I'm disappointed," she says. I quirk a brow as I'm unable to decipher whether this is a trap to get me to talk. "I expected a Sphinx." 

Curiosity did indeed capture me. Now, talking is an obligation. "Not a fan of Daemons?" 

"41% of Sphinxes commit, or have previously committed, a violent offence. Historically, my kind are known to be merciless, uphold a questionable moral code,  or lack empathy. Theorising that the most wanted man on the continent is a Sphinx isn't tough to guess." 

"Are you like that? A psychopath?" She nodded subtly. "You wanted someone to relate to?" 

"I rarely see a sister in the modern age." She turned back, checking her screen once more, and stood up, retrieved a few items from the cabinets overhead and approached the bed. Swiftly she cut the rest of my sleeve off and inspected the wound. I looked ahead and chewed my lip.

"How old are you?" I asked. She's the first Sphinx I've met. My knowledge is limited to exaggerated rumours and tabloid bullshit. She didn't give me a glance once she replied. 

"Ninety-nine," she said. I whistled at the number. She ripped apart two white fabrics and placed them on the bed. 

Ninety-nine doesn't seem to have made a dent in her skin but she has grown internally. Maturity and wisdom whisper behind her like an omnipotent shadow. I trust her more than any library or museum. 

She bent closer to inspect the injury, light glistening off the rim of her glasses, blinding me in the process. 

Something terribly agonising boiled at my bicep, a wretched groan filling the clinic at the mere feel. A cry ripped out of my lungs, one I did not recognise to be myself. 

Suddenly, I was in the Underground, my Mother standing over me blankly as I sobbed, hugging her legs. 

Dr. Karr retreated carefully as I pushed her away. Liquid dripped down my arm, pooling onto the blue bed. I wiped off the substance with my hand, ridding of the painful thing. 

A hoard of guards barrelled into the room with concerned faces, various weapons at the ready. Akraton's King rushed in, too, scanning for the danger. He looked and looked until he met my glistening eyes under the luminous white hue of the Doctor's room. His eyes dropped to my arm, where I cupped the wound with my opposite hand. 

"Is everything... alright?" He asked slowly, eyes never leaving my arm. The Sphinx reassured her King that she was performing a needed procedure that'll help me rest. Most of her words faded to the background as I met his eyes. For a moment, for a sliver of a moment, I looked into his eyes, got lost in a pool of soft honey gold glowing with concern.