The Scarlet Prince

Chapter Two | The Mystery

Chapter Two | The Mystery

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'She wasn't looking for a knight
She was looking for a sword.'
- atticus
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DARIUS

Darius could not recall the last time he had slept.

In the cool darkness of his bedroom, he paced in front of the window waiting for the dawn to break. From his position, the entirety of Aether was laid out before him, the city soft and grey in the early morning light. Darius turned; completed another circuit around his room, and then suddenly half an hour had passed and the sun was rising, blinding in its intensity.

Darius stood frozen, framed in the archway. For a moment, the Jade City below was cast in red; streets awash with blood, stained curtains burning in their emerald window frames. Screams of the dying swelled around him in a gruesome symphony. Desperate hands clutched fervently at the hems of his clothes, begging for a resolution he was powerless to provide. He stood high above them, looking down upon his tormented subjects like a lofty God, awash in decadent red and gold. They had placed him on the throne. Now he imagined them dragging him back down.

Closing his eyes, Darius massaged his temple lightly. A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"What is it." His voice was rough from disuse. 

"My Lord," Ezekiel sounded composed as ever. "The Council is requesting your presence."

Darius grunted. "Very well." He said shortly. "Tell them I will be there soon."

*

The council room was full of turmoil, and a few unfamiliar faces- distinctly Elven in origin. Darius sank down into his seat at the head of the table, his unreadable gaze lingering on the empty chair to his right.

Vandor was the first to speak, the General leaning in from the right.

"Your Highness. I implore you to reconsider. I am more than capable of-

"Be quiet." Darius cut off his General curtly. His heavy gaze pulled from the chair to survey the rest of the room.

Those present sat up a little straighter in their seats. It had been a while since they had seen this King. Vandor too, fell silent- his inner turmoil apparent in his expression.

"How long before we can be ready to depart?" Darius asked impatiently.

"In a month, your Highness." It was Balthazar who answered, the older lycan's composure setting the rest of the room slightly more at ease.

That was not the answer Darius wanted to hear. His words were biting. "So long?"

Balthazar sighed. "With all due respect my Lord, the elves need time to recover before heading North. We too, will need time to prepare. The North is different in climate to here and provisions take time to gather. Half of our force is still in Elysian assisting in the clean-up. If you would prefer to divide us further, then perhaps an earlier date would be possible, but-

"Fine, fine, I understand." Darius waved off the older lycan's spiel impatiently. With a light growl of annoyance, he massaged his temples, his eyes closing briefly as he willed his headache away.

Don't be grumpy at Balthazar, it's not his fault.

The reprimanding tone was soft in Darius's ear, and for a moment there was a light pressure on forearm, as though someone had rested her hand there. His eyes snapped open.

"...Your Highness?"

Darius tore his gaze from the empty chair on his left, to face the rest of the room. The eyes on him were slightly confused and it only served to irritate him further.