Halfblood [King|Alber × Reader]

Two

And for the first time in your life, you met someone similar to you, even if he denies it.

You look around the mesmerizing place. The lower part is dark and full of shadows, but you can see a carving on the wooden walls.

They seem to be subtle, nature-inspired patterns. As you walk closer, you notice how the forms never really come together.

They flow around the place in circular lines, blooming and twisting around each other-

Like flames.

"You don't have our fire inside you, nor our eyes."

You shake as you remember his quiet, enclosed tone. The carving pulls you to another world, even if you can't see it.

As you watch it for a longer time, you recognize four main strokes carrying the ornamentation through the wood, guiding its way.

There's the smallest, with sharp, rough edges like the stars' cold gleaming in the night. It's thin and dynamic. You can almost see the way of the chisel as the craftsman created it.

Then the one that feels like a forest, with leaves and rare flowers moving through its scheme.

Another, wider one reminds you of clouds and mist. It takes more space, spreading into the territory of the other lines.

You lift your left hand.

And the last one, the most detailed and diversified, blends the sharp edges and soft strokes, leading the way for all the other three. Flames.

You lift your right.

You gasp for air as your wings flinch and the pain arrives. They moved up with a fast, subconscious turn. You have to gain control over them again.

While your eyes follow the ornament, your hands start moving to the rhythm and flow of the two more significant lines. A smile spreads on your lips as you draw the same lines in the air.

You imitate the carving, up, down, across, and around.

You start walking and find where the pattern turns into itself, opposite King's bed, under the rosace of the distant heights.

The strokes join and flow around something you can't identify well in the shadows.

Your hands follow its way, and you scowl. The pattern starts from here to bend into its prime. It begins the next never-ending circle.

But your muscles tense up, and even your heart misses a beat. You can't continue because something is missing, and all your nerves, all your cells feel it.

"How did you follow it?" sounds a deep voice behind your back, and you freeze in your whole body.

I didn't hear him coming back.

"I didn't want to," you answer without turning around. Your fear returns and grows more powerful than before.

"Answer," he whispers. You gulp and take a deep breath to calm down.

"The carving dances, doesn't it?" you ask silently. "I... saw it. I saw the dance and followed it. I don't know how or why."

You hear his steps and as he throws something down on the bed.

The tall man arrives at your side, and you close your eyes from the sound of his mask when he takes it off. He stands two steps behind you.

"You reached this part by the trails?"

After you slowly nod, you dare to look at him again. King is watching the pattern's end and beginning, with a lour on his sharp features.

A soft, almost invisible curtain of pain closes above his face.