Zhea
0130 hours
Zyair Havenglow
Revenge was the last entity that set itself in his mind right at the very moment when the moon disappeared from the midnight sky. For years, he thrived alone coveting puppets from different rulers and kingdoms. Some willingly pledged themselves to him while some were compelled to his command. However, he placed his trust in none of them except for Lorcan, the man who was sold off by his parents to him due to political purposes. A benefit he had more than the boy's family. As he gazed out of the oval translucent window, the prince made out the city he had manipulated for centuries. Everything and everyone in the City of Splitted Land will forever be under his grasp. No one could take over his authority in this kingdom. At least, no one would dare to challenge him.
Hearing the sound of a weapon sitting against the wall, the prince immediately knew who it was. Only Lorcan had access to his throne room and private studies without restrictions. He could only smile as he reminisced the days and nights they shared. Now, he would leave the story for another day as he straightened his back and turned around to meet those beautiful grey eyes that almost glimmered before the moonlight. This boy could be the death of him. He was a gift, but now a drug to his empty heart. Stepping close to Lorcan, he lowered himself to lift the chin that had fallen as per their tradition.
A commoner shall never gaze upon the royals - the handbook said, but Lorcan will always be the only one who is allowed to be astray from the kingdom's vieux jeu.
"I am eager for an answer or answers, but since they have arrived at such a ghastly hour, I guess I can leave you out of the punishment. But, I am expecting a name from you by the end of the week," the prince spoke, fingers grazing the sides of Lorcan's jawline. "I do not care how you do it or what it takes for you to get a name. All I know is I need names and answers. I would suggest you work quickly before I begin to run out of patience. Do you understand?"
Lorcan nodded in silence, and that annoyed him terribly. He cursed under his breath, clutching Lorcan's jaw tightly till he felt blood seeping into his perfectly filed nails. The cobalt blue liquid overflowed from his nails, creating a slight smudge across them and dripping onto the tiles. The prince despised silence, yet these days the only response he had gotten was the one he hated most. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the boy away from him. His fingers were dug deep into the skin, causing Lorcan's jaw to bleed blue. His grey eyes showed no emotion as he sat back, wiping the blood away with the sleeves of his armour. Within a few passing moments, the skin was stitched tight.
"If I can't make you talk," the prince warned as Lorcan faced away and began exiting the room. "I will make you sing. And if you do not prefer to sing, then I will make you scream and wail each time you set foot in my quarters."
"You have been doing that for years, Prince Zyair, and there is nothing special or new about all your plans except for your undying obsession with the Golden Hands," Lorcan answered, turning to face the prince as he gripped onto his spear tightly. "I am already doing your bidding for centuries, Zyair. Even if my blood is pure, my heart, soul and entity no longer are. Whatever I did and am doing for you was all against the course of the world. Would it make a difference if I talk or not?"
"It would," Zyair replied, tapping his fingers on the throne. "It could determine your survival here, among my court and kingdom. I know that there is one thing you still fear about. Death."
Zyair smirked when he saw the boy freeze in his spot just before the door. He knew Lorcan well enough to know that death was the only thing he feared. And, Zyair knew why. The boy could command armies of different species to wedge a war for Zhea, but he could not slip into Death's dimension. He couldn't and he wouldn't. No matter how large a wound Lorcan had to face, he would do it if it could prevent him from dealing with the opposite dimension.
== xxx ==
Zhea
0533 hours
Herbert Fletcher Zaeheri
Blood. Murder. Vengeance.
Distorted figures cascaded past his hazy sight with inaudible speeches that crawled along his shoulders. The only thing that he could focus on was the long, shiny sword dripping in the blood that smelt fresh and scrumptious. He shook his head, preventing his instinct to pounce out of his famished body. Herbert slammed his palms onto the ground, trying to wake himself from his slumber. He cannot feed now. Not in front of someone he still could not focus on. This is not his enemy, not -
"Look at what you have done yourself!" the brittle voice exploded by his ear, followed by a tug on his hair. "Because of you, now she is going to suffer. She will see the world's end before you do. And, you are a sin to your own family. A shame, a burden. And, I want you to watch."
Biting down his lips to wake himself up, Herbert lifted his head to make out the cynosure before him. His head ached and his senses were messed up. Food, scrumptious, crunchy, and he begged himself to stop. He compelled himself to stay at his spot. He kept reminding himself that he was full. He did not need dessert.
"Herb," the figure mumbled, tugging onto the chains around her wrists. They rattled vigorously like a ritual Herbert had once witnessed before his eyes. "Herb, what is going on? Who is he? What is going on here?"
It took him two inner cheeks bite and a harsh shake of his head before his vision returned. Long blonde hair twisted in braids being tied to the back with fluffy sleeves. Anyone could mistake the maiden for anyone in the market, but he would not. His youngest sister, Ferocity whom he adored among all. Fire erupted from his core when he heard her wails, begging him to free her from the torment she never deserved.
"Time will never wait for you, Herbert," the man grinned, tugging onto Ferocity's hair where the edges were damp with blood from her shoulders. "Who will you choose now? Your dedication to your artwork or your sister dearest? I have reminded you countless times, Golden Hands, your artwork meant a lot to me. I am offering you lots of money in exchange for your arrows, yet you chose them over her. Does your little sister means nothing to you?"
Right at that moment, Herbert craved to rip the man's head from his body, but every step he took seemed to be laughing at him. They dragged him backwards, choking the very sentence that Herbert regurgitate towards his enemies. Ferocity meant everything to him, and if he could conquer Heaven for her, he would. Herbert would sacrifice anything for her, yet the offer was something controversial. His artwork is his only survival. His sisters and his survival. Without it, they would not have a place to live for months or even for the rest of their mundane lives. People might see the luxury that grew around him without realising that he shouldered hills on his back.
"She meant everything to me," Herbert whispered on his own. "Everything!"
Forcing his legs to move, Herbert pounced towards the man. Dark red veins floated on his pale skin, forming maps on his cheeks, hands, and neck. His brown eyes flipped into full burgundy red, and jet-black talons ejected fully. Bones crackled like the sound of lions biting into the raw bones of the deer it proudly caught, and cadmium yellow venom began to drip from his fangs. Herbert's neck snapped from side to side, giving in to the ulterior other. Sinking his talons into the warm bare skin, he snarled and dragged his enemy close to him, ready for a hefty meal.
"Fletcher."
A firm grip rested below his chin, and they proceeded in cupping his cheeks tightly with gentle caresses.
"Fletcher, get up."
His voice was grim.
Soft fingers ran through his blonde locks, stroking his scalp lightly. The scent of osmanthus overwhelmed his senses, trudging him back to reality. Herbert breathed in heavily at the sight before him. Red liquid lazed around his sight slowly to the edge, replacing them with Yueru's shining blue eyes. They were shimmering among the dark, mirroring the stars that drifted a little too far from their colony. Herbert knew that he was close, close to losing himself to his locked nature. Only when he felt Yueru's calm breathing did he slump down and snuggled into the warm embrace.
"You alright?" Yueru asked, shifting to the side to let his companion lay by his side while he combed his blonde locks lightly.
"Hm~" Herbert responded, burying his face in the crook of Yueru's neck. "I am now."
He clung to his only companion, feeling those soft fingertips against his locks. Finally, after being trapped in an unknown loop of his past, Herbert finally found comfort and assurance for the night.
Word Count: 1573 words
Cumulative Word Count: 11, 265 words