Why was I so messy?
My desk was covered in papers and documents that I hadn't bothered to put away... I don't know how long some of the stuff had been there.
Organization was one of my few strengths, so I went to work sorting important things from trash. Everything was scattered everywhere, every time I shifted something even more mountains of papers would flow like a river to sprawl out onto the floor...this was going to take a while.
I yawned. It was already late...we had arrived back from Hyacinth in the late evening, but now it was nearly midnight. I had spent the few hours in between trying to get Erin to rest. She was more stubborn when she was injured though (I didn't know how that was possible), and our argument had lasted...a good while.
I pulled a book out of the midst of scattered documents. The cover was green, peeling at the binding and on the corners. Gold lettering spelt out the title in intricate curls, 'Major Genealogy'.
I laughed quietly to myself. I hadn't picked this book up in what felt like forever...not since I was 'ambushed' in the library by... had I really been that lazy as to not put it away after years?
I flipped open the book, coughing in the dust that exploded from the yellowing parchment. The pages were stiff and crinkled, but I could still interpret the writing. I found my way to the end of the book, or at least, the last few pages that were written on. Names scattered across the page, becoming few and far between the closer I got to the bottom of the page until I came across my name, connected to everyone else by thin golden lines trailing between names, and to two blotted out names on either side... I never did manage to get rid of the splattered ink.
I sighed, closing the book again before dropping it into the trash pile.
Several of the random papers were drawn out blueprints, many of which were for the railroad that would be running from Eastvale to Rivendale. I snickered to myself, coming across a few different papers scattered with incredibly messy handwriting from when I had attempted to teach Erin how to spell. Many were torn from where she had gotten frustrated to the point where she had ripped the graphite through the sheet.
A couple of them caught my eye, filled with drawings from when she was too distracted to practice. "Huh..." I murmured to myself, glancing over the surprisingly detailed sketches. Scattered between math equations were illustrations of swords, jeweled hilts practically glinting off the paper despite only being drawn in grey tones. Pictures of hand gestures and even of a pencil itself were traced along the edges of the page, smudged from where she had shaded them most likely with her fingers. A certain one intrigued me, of a large scythe, dark and menacing. The blade was jagged and hooked, made from twisted metal veined with something paler that I couldn't make out from the uncolored drawing. The handle was smooth and lean, and the whole weapon gave off an ominous aura even off of the paper.
Why was I surprised that Erin could draw?
I gathered the miscellaneous work and sketch pages my sister had made over the months into a pile, placing them to the left of me in the keep pile.
The stacks of objects and papers became smaller as the night went on. I sorted through folders, uncrumpled things that looked important that I had forgotten about, and throwing away things that I had no use for.
Near the bottom of one of the piles, when I began to see the wood of the desk again, I came across a binder, bound in worn and fraying maroon leather, peeling away from the canvas in many places.
I frowned. I had never recalled seeing it before. I brushed the shredded paper and dust littering the cover. In the center was the Rivendale antler crest, in a dulling gold that must once have been bright and defined.
I was about to open the cover to find out what it was, when I heard a shuffle and the door open. I looked up to see Erin standing in the doorway. I sighed, setting the binder down on the desk, turning towards her. She looked beyond tired, dark circles under her eyes and a blank expression. She slumped against the frame, her wings limp behind her and dragging the slightest against the floor.
"Can't sleep?" I asked after a few moments of silence where her stare bore into me like knives.
She just nodded yes, despite the look of exhaustion she wore.
I sighed again, before making my way towards the door. "C'mon, I'll start some hot chocolate." I said, gesturing for her to follow me out into the hall.
"Okay..." she mumbled, rubbing one of her eyes with her knuckles as she trudged behind me, her feet dragging against the carpet.
I was half worried she'd topple down the stairs while we walked down them, but she stayed on her feet, following me to the kitchen.
I flicked the lights on after we entered, the white glow filling all the empty, shadowy spaces. I put a pot of milk on the stove to boil, before taking my seat beside Erin on a barstool pulled up next to the island. She rested her forehead against the counter, her tangled hair spilling over her shoulders.
"You okay?" I asked quietly, trying not to disturb the comforting silence of the palace at these hours.
"Yeah..." she sighed, turning to rest the side of her head against the marble. She closed her eyes a moment later, looking close to a corpse as she sat there motionless.
"So, are we going to talk?" I asked after several more moments of silence.
Erin didn't respond.
"No?" I questioned gently, to which this time she shook her head. "Okay then." I sighed, rubbing her shoulders lightly. She hadn't yet told me if her back had bruised over yet, and I didn't want to put to much pressure on it if it had.
We sat there in utter silence except for the sound of our breathing and of the stove burner gently hissing for the next few minutes. I rested my elbows on the countertop, staring down at the patterns dragged through the marble. After a while I got up, pouring the heated milk into mugs for the hot chocolate.
I slid back onto the seat beside Erin, handing her a mug of hot chocolate once I had finished. She looked up, lifting her head up, before reaching up and taking the mug from me. She took a sip before setting it down on the counter. "I want to sleeeeep." She whined, her voice straining as she stretched out the word.
"Then sleep." I answered.
"I can't..." She murmured, her eyes fluttering shut again.
"Why can't you sleep?" I asked quietly.
"I just can't..."
"Alright then." I said a few seconds later, biting back another sigh. So we just sat there, drinking hot cocoa in the silence of the palace.
It felt like an eternity since this kitchen was bustling with servants and cooks at all hours of the night. Since I couldn't walk down a hallway without bumping into a member of my parents' court. Usually then, silence meant something was gravely wrong, but now it was normal. Peaceful, you could say.
Time didn't seem to pass as we sat there, the light swarming the room seeming surreal in the darkness creeping in from the edges of the walls.
However, when I did turn to look back at my sister, her arms were sprawled out across the countertop. Her half drank mug was tilted in her hand, nearly spilling, and she was asleep.
"Déjà vu..." I murmured to myself with a smile, taking her mug and my own empty one, putting them in the sink to rinse out the next morning.
She was stirring already when I turned back around, mumbling a few incoherent words to herself. After making my way back to her, I pulled her from the chair onto her feet. She stumbled, staggering into my side, before managing to stay standing, her legs shaky.
"C'mon let's get you to the couch..." I said, unsure if I'd be able to get her to the stairs without her passing out again.
"Mmph..." she muttered in response, clearly not understanding what I was saying.
I held her tightly around the shoulders, slowly walking her out of the room. She was half asleep, trudging beside me. I led her out to the living room, grabbing a blanket with my free hand as I did, before sitting her down on the couch next to me. I wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, and she immediately slumped onto my side.
I snickered quietly to myself, trying not to move too much or make enough noise to wake her any further. Instead I kept my arm around her shoulders, letting her rest up against me.
The living room felt peaceful just as the kitchen had. The only lighting in here was from the few candles set upon the mantle of the fireplace. The light of the fire flickered across the room, bathing the room in slowly moving light that smelt vaguely of smoke.
I let myself relax, leaning back into the couch and tugging Erin ever so slightly closer. These were the times that made everything worth it...
I woke up to someone tugging on my sleeve.
I had fallen asleep on the couch, and I jerked awake to Erin grasping onto my shirt. "Someone's at the door." She said. She looked hardly better than she had last night, still sporting the dark circles and weary expression.
"Did you get any sleep?" I asked, ignoring what she was trying to tell me for the time being.
Erin shrugged. "Kind of. I've been up for a few hours though." She mumbled, rubbing one of her eyes with her knuckles.
"Why did you stay here? You might have slept better in your bed." I said with a small frown.
She shrugged. "Not sure. But someone's been knocking for like— five minutes." She said, poking my upper arm repeatedly to try and get the point across.
"Fine, fine, I'm going..." I sighed, getting to my feet, and brushing myself off. Erin remained bundled up on the couch in the blanket from the night before, watching me leave.
Still half asleep, my mind hazy, I made my way to the entrance hall and towards the door. "Ello?" I asked as I opened it, to which I got a face full of dirty blonde hair as a man leapt inside.
"Surprise!" Jimmy said with a small snicker, hooking his arms around my neck and grinning up at me.
I stumbled, surprised indeed, before grinning back. "Why didn't you say you were coming?" I asked, hugging him back and pressing a small kiss to his forehead.
"Because telling you would ruin the surprise, stupid." He said with a roll of his eyes as if it were obvious.
"Fair enough." I laughed, turning to shut the door behind him. "But you still could have given me a little warning—"
"Well it was a last-minute decision- wanted to check on you. Especially after yesterday." He shrugged, leaning up to bump his nose against mine. "Now how are you?"
"Good. Just woke up actually." I answered, leading Jimmy farther into the entry hall.
I heard a little shuffle before Erin poked her head into the room, still bundled in blankets. "What is he doing here?" she asked, wrinkling her nose after seeing Jimmy beside me.
"Don't look so excited to see me." Jimmy replied sarcastically with a small roll of his eyes.
"Oh be nice you two." I snickered, reaching down to tangle my fingers with Jimmy's. "He's just here for a little visit."
"Why?" Erin asked again with a small sneer.
"Because he's my boyfriend...?" I answered slowly. "And I like it when he comes...?"
Erin in return scoffed, rolling her eyes before leaving and shutting the door quite harshly behind her.
"What's her deal today..." Jimmy murmured, squeezing my hand as he leaned slightly into me.
I shrugged. "She's still recovering. To be fair though, she's normally like this— I'd be more concerned if she wasn't being an absolute jerk."
Jimmy snickered. "I guess so," he sighed, bumping his shoulder against mine. "Did you have any plans I accidentally barged into or?"
I shook my head. "Nope. Was just organizing a few things last night that I was going to continue, but those can wait." I answered, turning to press the bottom of my face into his hair which smelt of sea salt, and the ocean. I breathed in his scent for a moment, closing my eyes, a smile slowly creeping across my face against my will.
Jimmy let another small snicker slip, and I felt as he slid his arms around my waist, tugging me into a hug.
"So we're just going to stand here like this, huh?" I asked with a small smirk, letting my arms drape over his shoulders and hook just behind his midback.
"I mean we could." Jimmy said a bit teasingly, letting most of his weight fall onto me. He raised his hands, twirling his fingers around and playing with the tips of my hair. "You need a haircut..."
"I was actually thinking of growing it back out a bit again." I answered, smirking the slightest.
"Then you're appearance will finally match the drama queen you are—"
I rolled my eyes, swatting lightly at the side of his head, intending to miss. "Yeah, yeah, let's just go to the living room and see if we can kick Erin out of it—" I replied half-jokingly, taking his hand and leading him out of the entrance halls down towards the living area.
Fortunately, Erin had already left so I didn't have to persuade her to go to her room...who knew where she was now, but it wasn't here.
Jimmy tugged me over, shoving me down onto the cushions with a small laugh.
"What was that for!?" I asked, trying to sit up, only to get shoved back down.
"No reason." Jimmy giggled, before sprawling out on top of me on the couch.
"You're ridiculous—" I laughed, dragging my fingers through his hair as he laid his head against my chest.
It didn't matter how long we dated, how many times he came over, my heart always nearly beat out of my chest when he was this close, and heat always rose on my face like it was being blowtorched.
"No I'm not!" He protested, gently slapping my upper arm. "You are—"
"If you say so." I teased, hugging him closer.
We stayed there for a while in silence, but the longer the quiet stood, the more somber Jimmy's seemed.
"Something wrong?" I asked, keeping my voice relatively hushed as I continued to play with the other's hair.
He didn't answer me for a moment, and I immediately knew something was up. "Sort of..." he murmured, without elaborating further.
"What happened?" I asked again, beginning to get worried.
"Just...ruling stuff." Jimmy sighed, hiding his face the slightest with his arms. "Nothing important."
"Well it sure seems important—"
"I don't want to talk about it."
I didn't push the subject. But I did hold him closer, hoping to provide some comfort to whatever he was feeling. I hoped nothing bad had happened...
I closed the door behind me just as I watched Jimmy disappear from sight down the path curving towards the base of the mountain.
I sighed quietly. I wish he had been able to stay longer. It's hard to find time to relax when we both have our own empires to run. A break would be nice. I still had to finish the last details for the council election... I could do that tomorrow.
Instead of heading to the throne room to sort through the last few things before the election, I took the route of procrastination and jogged up the stairs towards my room.
However as I made my way down the hall, I paused, backtracking before stopping in front of the door to Erin's room. I don't remember when she had, but she had decorated (or rather vandalized) the front in some sort of red crayon or marker, spelling the word 'NO' in huge letters against the whitewashed wood.
It always made me laugh to see it, and I reached out towards the hole in the door where the doorknob used to be. She had long since broken it off. She still insists it was an accident...I highly doubt it though. I gently pushed the door open, peering into the room. On the bed was a large, black, leathery mass, mixed with a fluffy grey blanket. Varying colors of scales littered the mattress and the floor, ranging from greys to midnight blacks.
It took me a moment to realize it was Erin curled up on the bed. And she looked to finally be asleep.
Well, one less thing to worry about.
I closed the door as quietly as I could, making my way back towards my own room. It was cast in darkness, the velvet blinds closed to block the midafternoon sunlight from streaming in. I groped for the lights, before they flickered on to reveal the mess that was my room.
I kicked a few loose feathers under the dresser as I grabbed a sweater that had been carelessly tossed into one of the drawers, pulling it over my head. Or attempted to pull it over my head.
"Stupid..." I muttered as the knitted material got caught on one of my antlers. It took me a good two minutes to untangle the cloth and finally slide the sweater on.
With a small groan, I faceplanted onto my bed, burying my face in the blankets. It was good to just lay there for a few minutes, block out my thoughts and think of nothing amongst the mass of sheets.
I got lost in the time for a couple minutes, before looking up so my eyes could slowly adjust back to the light and colors of the room. What caught my eye, however, was the maroon binder from the day before, the one I had never gotten to look through.
After several seconds of near paralysis while I tried to convince my limbs to move, I finally lifted myself up and grabbed the folder from my desk. I sat back down, ruffling my wings to rest comfortably underneath the sweater before finally flipping it open.
The first thing that caught my attention was large, childish, but relatively neat writing across the entire front two pages. 'XoRNOTH'S ALBuM'.
I blinked, the first thing that I had processed being the fact that the writer had forgotten to capitalize two of the letters. Then it hit me. It was his. Clearly. It had his name on it.
I froze, my fingers still curled around the next page. I wasn't even sure I wanted to see what was on these pages. I was suddenly very aware of the pulsing of the crystal pressed against my chest underneath my sweater. One of the ridges dug slightly against the scar I had left by the fissure in the gem.
I exhaled slowly to myself. The pain of not knowing would probably be worse than the stress of the knowledge I would gain by looking through the album, I told myself, before I forced myself to flip the page.
On the first page was a picture, a picture of a portrait pasted to it with glue, that I knew well. Or at least, I thought I did. My parents looked the same way they did in the painting I knew, Rohan standing with his back straight, his brown, nearly black hair, swept up and gathered behind his head. His eyes seemed to piece the paper itself, a deep shade of purple, cold and stern. His expression was tense, as it usually was when he was alive. On his head was the crown I now wore, the golden band with sheets of pearly white crystal arranged in geometric slabs around the circlet.
To his right was Pandora, my mother. Though her expression too was vaguely blank as always in portraits, she held a more relaxed look in her blue eyes. Eyes I now saw every day in my sister. They were shielded by a pair of golden rimmed glasses, the edges tucked behind her curls of blue hair braided down her shoulder, falling past her waist. Across her forehead too, was a golden circlet, dipping in the center with a pale blue jewel set in the middle.
These two were the same from the portrait, but below their waists was where the picture differed from what I knew, and from what I had seen.
In the painting that hung in the hall, there was only three people in the picture, myself being the third. I had always stood in the center, between them. But not in this picture. Here I was set off to the side, standing closer to my mother, one of her hands resting on my shoulder.
I glanced over my six-year-old self quickly. My hair had been longer than, tied back at the base of my neck out of my eyes. Two stubby golden knobs just barely poked out of my hair. I was wearing a small smile in the picture of the painting, my eyes slightly wide in excitement. I could imagine if this captured the seconds and not just a singular moment, I would have been fidgeting in my spot.
My eyes were next drawn to my extended arm, my hand tightly grasping another's. Next to me was another boy, taller than myself by a little less than a head.
A few strands of his violet hair hung by his face, the rest braided. His pointed ears poked just out of his hair, and despite him looking the same age he had a few more piercings than I did, including a golden one clamped horizontally along his right one.
Just as Erin now wore the earring that marked a princess of Rivendale, there were earrings for the prince's too. And that was one. I reached up, my fingertips brushing an identical one I wore, one I had always worn even after becoming king...
Xornoth smiled at me from the page, his expression filled with a look like he was moments away from bursting into laughter.
It didn't click, in my head, that this boy and the corrupted, red-eyed, and horned man that had so many times tried to kill, and torture and destroy, were the same person. I didn't believe it.
The boy's smile was nothing but innocent, yet what he had become was the opposite. He had become bitter, filled with anger and nothing short of resentful.
How. I wanted to know. I had the vague sketch of his past from Aeor, and nothing more. I knew nothing of who he was. Who he used to be. No memory of it, no way to connect our pasts.
And it was torture.
The last thing on the painting that differed, was an object my mother held in one of her arms...a bundle. I lifted the album up to see it better, trying to make out what it was...I made out a tuft of brunette fluff. Hair. And a small, pale face squished slightly against Pandora's chest and hidden by the blanket gathered around their neck. One pale blue eye stared back at me, wide and curious beside a miniature hand curled into a fist, the other hidden.
It was an infant.
And it was Erin.
"What are you doing?"
I yelped, dropping the album from my hands and into my lap in surprise. My head snapped up towards the voice, to see Erin standing in the doorway, her wings hanging limply behind her like a cloak. She looked better than earlier, her dark circles just a few shades lighter and her look just a little less sickly.
"I just- looking at something I found—" I answered, stumbling over my words the slightest, still getting over the scare she had given me.
"Oh. You look like someone died." She stated flatly, staring at me unblinkingly.
"Uh...I do?" I asked, picking the album back up.
"Yep. All sad and regretful and guilty. Its kinda pitiful." She shrugged, stepping farther into the room.
I rolled my eyes, picking the album back up. "What're you even doing? I thought you were asleep—"
"Well clearly not anymore. What even is that?" She questioned, ignoring my own, and gesturing with her head towards the maroon folder.
"Something...something of Xornoth's I found." I answered rather quietly, picking at the glue surrounding the edges of the picture.
Erin just continued to stare, before silently moving farther into the room and sitting down beside me on the bed, peering over my arm at the portrait. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her.
I waited a few seconds, letting her take in the picture of the painting before flipping the page.
The rest of the things glued into the book were also pictures of paintings. I knew nearly all of them, most hanging in the halls of the palace. At least I knew the altered versions. These must have been the true ones.
All had me and Xornoth in them, a few scattered throughout also containing my parents and a baby Erin. Every one was more unsettling than the last, because I swear I remembered these moments, although they were all void of the violet-haired boy.
Erin remained quiet, the only noise in the room being the flipping of parchment. The closer to the back we got to the book, the more tense she got beside me...
But suddenly, I came across several pages that weren't pictures of portraits. Neither professional nor high quality, they were slightly blurry but filled with so much more life than the paintings. The first, was of me seated on a mattress, wearing...a slightly panicked expression. In it, Erin, who looked hardly a year old had grabbed hold of one of my stubby antlers with her small hands, yanking my head down. She wore a wide smile, and I could practically hear the laughter that must have been coming from her mouth at the time. Her light brown hair was wild, and in her face masking the marking on her forehead. Her wings were sprawled out behind her on the bed, small and weak at the time.
I realized a second later Xornoth must have taken this picture.
The rest after were very similar, pictures taken by Xornoth, some of me, some of Erin, a few with both of us and some of random things he must have impulsively took a picture of as a child.
But nothing sparked a memory. Nothing seemed familiar. It was strange seeing myself in these. I knew they must have happened at some point, but it was like these were the family photos of a stranger.
I finally flipped to an empty page, about three quarters through the album. The rest afterwards were also empty except for one loose picture stuck between the pages...he never got to finish it.
I picked the unglued picture up. This one, had Xornoth in it. His hair was loose, falling over his shoulders, except for a small section pinning his long bangs back behind his head. He was grinning excitedly down at Erin who was half sat in his lap, her hands both holding onto his tightly, her grip strong. She was staring wide eyed at his fingertips which danced with flames...probably not the smartest idea around a baby but then again they were most likely unsupervised at the time.
No, not they. We. It was me taking the photo. It had to have been. The corner of the photo was even covered in a small, pale patch where my finger must have covered part of the lens...
I held the photo closer to Erin for her to look at, glancing at her for the first time since she sat down. Her expression startled me. It was furious.
Her eyes were narrowed and filled with nothing but anger, her nose wrinkled, and the corners of her lips turned down in a scowl as she glared down at the photo.
She took it from me, her fingers white as she gripped the edge to the point the paper bent and crinkled underneath her hold. In a few moments, I saw a flash of red in her eyes, before the photo darkened and shriveled like it was being burned and crumpled in her hand into ashes, small curls of smoke rising from its remains. With a quick exhale of fury through her nose, she stood up, flipping the album out of my lap and onto the floor with a thud before stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind her without another word.
That album had shaken me. I needed to clear my head.
Nearly half an hour of staring at the ground after Erin had stormed from my room, I forced myself to get up and take a walk.
I exited the palace, fiddling with the sleeves of my sweater and pulling them over my hands.
The rather chilly but pleasant October breeze stung my face, just strong enough to blow wisps of my hair around and behind my ears. Rivendale's natural, winter chill was starting to become prominent as Autumn continued on... It was hard to believe I was going to be twenty-three in less than a month.
I stuck close to the palace, running my fingers along the faint grooves in the walls mindlessly, hoping to not come across anyone else on my short walk...
Unfortunately, this wouldn't end up as the peaceful little break I needed.
Something instantly got my attention as I turned a corner around the building.
Large spires of ice stuck from the ground along the hill behind the palace, crystal clear and pointed like spears, scattered. There were dozens of them, some looking to be hardly three feet but other looking to be nearly twenty.
I definitely hadn't made those.
"What the hell...?"
***
Yay! I didn't procrastinate on this chapter- I think I deserve a round of applause /nsrs
But seriously I was weirdly motivated to write this chapter so I kinda just wrote a little every day until I came up with this- I like how it turned out :D
But eh, sorry guys this is the last bit of fluff in this book. (I also suck at writing fluff so sorry if this chapter isn't one if my best, I'm much better at writing angst ;-;)
I suggest you prepare yourselves- I ain't given you no more heartwarming sibling/ship moments so
Savor. It.
Anyways, comments and votes are really appreciated and really help my motivation to continue writing! My favorite part of posting is reading all the comments, you guys can be hilarious-
Make sure to drink some water and have a good day/night wherever you are!