"If you build the guts to do something, anything, then you better save enough to face the consequences." - Criss Jami
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11:54 pm
Four brown, leather books are stacked on top of a beige table on the ground floor. Their contents have been deemed useless underneath the scrutinising gaze of the individual who occupies the space. Two unopened books lie to the left of the table.
Liam's seated, hunched over form hovers over an open book titled: Old World Semiotics, Volume 17. His head is held up by his left hand that presses against his forehead. He's usually asleep at this time. The other hand is used to carefully turn the thin, fragile pages of the book.
When Liam was eleven, he had picked up this exact book and brought it home to read. However, the contents were much too complex for his young brain to comprehend. He couldn't even get past the first few pages, never mind the whole book.
Over the next few weeks, the printed, black symbols were something that he managed to enjoy, regardless of the unintelligible words that surrounded them. Studying them and their unusual attributes, he tried to create his own explanations behind them, making up stories about hidden battles during the old ages where the old ways of life were a lavish reality.
There were notebooks hidden under his mattress filled with ideas and short stories based on these very symbols. Eventually, he adopted this concept with the other books he'd borrow, creating a stockpile of fictitious histories that sated his youthful mind.
That was fifteen years ago.
Liam turns to the next page after skimming over four symbols that were thought to be used by blacksmiths as a means of recognising their skill in the trade. He remembers them well.
Three small, circular symbols are arranged diagonally across the left page and Liam stills at the sight of the one in the middle. Here lies the very symbol that he has been searching for.
A triumphant grin graces his face and he quickly begins reading the paragraphs on either side: "This symbol was seen throughout the late 1500s to the early 1700s during the reign of the second King and previous Beta, Restal Ragnon. The clustered, curved lines are said to represent a maze, suggesting the many paths that could be taken to reach the top of the hierarchy. Some think that the maze represents the prison of one's mind, fooling the beholder into thinking there are viable paths to peace. My favourite, and the most controversial, is an age-old theory that describes the maze representing the intricate containment of one's foe. The curved paths work to keep them occupied, distracting them from the reality of imprisonment by the protagonist. The false sense of control prevents the foe from constructing an escape that would see the protagonist suffering severely in response. A coward's way to victory, some would say. The trapping of those more powerful to steal their position in the hierarchy. Others see it as a means to an end - a necessary way to victory." Liam stops reading, suddenly aware of the time. He'll read the rest at his Gamma's office.
With a newfound spark of energy, he picks up the book and tucks it under his left arm whilst he quietly stands from the chair. Page 403, he recalls. Page 403.
A hand roughly pushes down on his left shoulder, trying to force him back into the seat. What the fuck? They struggle against Liam's unyielding resistance and eventually release the shoulder. Liam spins around, irritated and alert. He's not in the mood to fight anyone at this hour. Especially not at the library.
Five men stand in a line before him.
All of a similar height and build, they resemble a bodybuilder-esque physique with weighty muscles filled with strength in exchange for agility. Two of the men stand out for Liam recognises their unruly faces. Igor and Dimitri - otherwise known as Andriel's bitch lackeys.
"Andriel sends his regards." The right-most male states with a twinge of embarrassment in his eyes.
He must've been the one who touched him. The one with the ginger hair.
"I guess I should take this as a compliment." Liam starts, untucking the book from his side and placing it back onto the table. "Andriel really sent five of his dogs after me." He chuckles dryly before sending a glare their way, unamused by their presence.
They bristle at the insult. Igor and one of the others pull out a knife from their front pockets. They tightly grip the handle whilst holding the weapon against their bodies, trying to conceal them from observant eyes.
He'll have to watch out for those.
They all wear monochromatic tank tops with dark blue, denim jeans. Three of them are covered in colourful tattoos with only their face bare. Liam still has his black athletic shorts on with a pair of black compression leggings underneath. His dark grey top hugs the ridges of his body, accentuating his toned muscles.
"Let's make this quick, shall we," Liam says, stepping away from the desk. "I've got places to be."
A male with black hair and tattoos rushes forward and Liam picks up the chair beside him and slams it into the side of his head. The wooden components break apart at the force. Chair legs drop to the floor along with the now-unconscious male.
Students around him jump up from their seats at the sound, awoken by the beginnings of the fight. Their eyes widen and they quickly leave their seats, slowly backing away from the commotion to head towards the surrounding walls.
Two others leap towards him, one bearing a knife, and Liam bends forward and runs towards the one without a weapon- the one with ginger hair. His shoulder slams into the male's abdomen and he grabs the back of their thighs, throwing them back onto the ground. The male groans at the impact and Liam sends two quick, hard punches to their jaw, knocking them out.
The other one with the knife grabs Liam's arm and throws him backwards. His back lands atop a now-unoccupied desk and he winces. Damn, he's strong.
Students scream when they see the man swing his armed, right hand down towards Liam's abdomen. Liam's eyes widen and he quickly rolls off the table, resulting in the blade being lodged deep into the centre of the desk. He stands up off the floor and raises his foot, slamming it into the male's elbow.
A deep scream fills the space around them. The male's elbow now bends the opposite way, completely broken. He falls to the ground with tears in his eyes, leaving the knife still wedged in the table.
Igor races forward and slashes his blade against Liam's raised, left forearm. Blood begins to pour from the deep wound and Liam growls at the pain. Igor's left fist lands a hit against the side of Liam's head and it throws his body to the floor a metre away.
Dimitri walks over to Liam, who blinks repeatedly to regain complete consciousness. Blood stains the wooden floor beneath him, showing the movement of his forearm.
Sensing an impending defeat if he remains on the ground, Liam leans back onto his shoulders with his hands pushing against the floor next to his head and hoists his legs into the air, jumping to a stand. He sprints forward and flips over the table with the knife still lodged in it. His hand reaches out mid-air and pulls out the knife from the desk.
Once he lands, he spins around and throws the blade towards Dimitri. The weapon flies through the air and embeds itself deep into his throat. Dimitri's jaw drops and he stumbles back in shock. He drops to his knees and pulls out the blade causing blood to gush out the wound.
The blade hit the centre of his throat, so his major arteries should be fine. He'll heal, Liam determines in relief.
Preoccupied with analysing Dimitri's wound, Liam doesn't catch Igor's nearing presence in time. His body is lifted off the floor and his back is slammed into the edge of a nearby desk, causing him to cry out in pain. Fists come barrelling down into his face. He raises his forearms to try and defend, but Igor grabs them and holds them down. Liam isn't strong enough to get out of Igor's hold and panic starts to set in.
Some tearful students run out of the library in search of a general, but they won't reach any of them in time.
With gritted teeth and rage-filled eyes, Igor slams his forehead into Liam's.
Liam's body becomes limp, almost reaching a state of unconsciousness. He can't move fast enough to dodge the blade that comes barrelling down and slices through the centre of his abdomen. His eyes screw shut and he breathes heavily through clenched teeth. The pain sears through his body, distracting him from his surroundings. From the screams that erupt from the horrified observers.
Igor raises the blade and brings it down into Liam's abdomen two more times, creating three deep wounds.
Tears well up at the corners of Liam's closed eyes. He doesn't want to die.
12:03 am
Christian sits restlessly at his desk, repeatedly tapping his right foot against the ground whilst he looks at the time shown on his laptop. Worry laces his features and he runs a hand through his blonde hair.
Valen remains on the couch, watching as his Gamma abruptly stand from his chair.
"Liam's never late," he whispers, looking out of one of the windows. Christian glances over at Valen and the male already knows what he wishes to ask.
Pushing himself off of the couch, Valen slides up the window Christian was looking out of leans his palms against the windowsill, breathing in the fresh air. He closes his eyes and begins to listen.
Christian is thankful that Valen held back his aura as he neared. His eyes remain watching the left side of the tall male's face, looking for any hints that could indicate Liam's current status.
Suddenly, Valen throws his legs over the windowsill, swiftly jumping out of the four-storey building.
Christian races forward, startled at the male's actions. He looks down at the grass below and Valen is nowhere to be seen.
One word lingers in the air, the one that Valen stated before jumping: Library.
The Gamma runs out of his office.
12:04 am
The two glass doors at the entrance of the library slide open. Students cry out in relief at the sight of the entering individual and some even fall to the ground, knees becoming weak. A sharp pain slithers up their necks and they bear the vulnerable area to the male.
Liam can barely see. His vision is almost entirely black, his mind inches away from unconsciousness. Pain pulses from every inch of his body, especially his brutalised abdomen. His grey top is now a dark red, the crimson liquid making the material stick to his skin further than before.
Footsteps begin to fill the library, surrounded by a threatening silence.
Igor drops to the ground along with the other men who have regained consciousness. They strain their necks to look up at the nearing individual and their skin goes pale. This results in Liam's body sliding off of the table, now released from Igor's grip. He flops silently onto the ground, landing on his side.
Valen walks towards them, focusing his aura on the assailants. A few of them begin to tremble, overcome with fear and a few begin to scream in terror. Their bodies are shoved further against the wooden floor by an invisible force, completely immobilising them. The force being Valen's thick, unadulterated dominance.
The ginger-haired male sobs from the ground, "p-pleas—"
The male's words are silenced by Valen's hard gaze. He stops walking, his voice is dark as he asks, "who gave you permission to speak?"