Nightmares of The Past
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"You slander my name in the name of a free laugh and yet the same if I do I am being insensitive?"
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Night loomed over Oneiros, darkness whispered into the ears of infants, lulling them back to the land of sleep. The breeze rang with a gentle melody. And yet even in such a place so serene could not cure an ailing mind.
In the light of the moon stood the most speculated member of the Fae court. His blank gaze focused on the stars, bathing the hauntingly beautiful male in a pale limelight.
The light thread through his golden hair, traveled over the gaunt cheeks. His ebony eyes swirled with a burden unknown. The stars witnessed the beautiful sight and sighed in compassion for the broken fae. For the boy who rose from shambles. For the boy who had lost his all. For the boy who lived only to safe the rest from his fate.
The saline tears had long dried. Ages ago when he lost his home. When the court had infiltrated his boisterous life like a plague. And consumed all he had built.
His home was burnt away, his family crushed, but the deities of nature could not be satisfied and now he was cursed to live in solitude, mourning for everything that could be if he could have been a little more agile. If only he could be present there and be able to defend his parents.
Alas sorrow listened to none and by the time he arrived he was a moment too late. And there had his curse began. Lost in his grievance he unleashed a gale, shaking the very foundations of Oneiros. A tremor of anguish so big the City palace trembled under it.
A big mishap. A huge mistake on his part.
And before he could comprehend, a tight circle of fae, pixies, gnomes all the beings that had an abode in the city walls, cornered him. The rest of his memories were a blur. Faded because of his state of numbness. All that remained in his hazed mind was of him begging for prosecution, while the Lord of the City made a path for a exquisite life as his way of condolence.
He craved the embrace of oblivion. And yet the Lord was too just and benevolent to let go of a life. The commonfolk believed he was blessed. Little did they know how fickle the court was within.
He witnessed their ruthless games. How they destroyed the mind of the naive. And the merriment they found in these games they played with other's sanity.
All of the atrocities burnt him and yet he could not defect and leave. His oath prevented him.
The lost boy was now the most priced treasure of Oneiros. The High healer and a formidable assassin. Christopher.
But never had he felt more lost. More broken. More abandoned.
The past haunted him through the seams of reality. The nightmares brought back memories buried deeper than the graves of the warriors of past. The moments that linked his life to a past far darker and cursed.
The honeyed voice sighed as he walked back towards his gilded cage. There was no one to mourn the young fae lad. As the sunshine child faded into an aloof shell of himself. Readying himself for the mental brawl he would face the next morn.
* * * *
The dawn played over the vales. The flora dancing to the jovial breeze. The city bloomed in it's perpetual joy. Bristling with lively residents breezing through the day.
The green vines traversing over the pathway were a luscious colour. The flowers bloomed like small pearls threaded together.
The emerald gates glistened in the shining sun. The glass reflected it's surroundings like the crystal quartz. The court bustled with various murmurs spread throughout incessantly. The partakers going over all bustling topics. From the aloof high healer to the latest scandal of a young viscount.
The talks raged from the political opinions to the reckless revel actions. From the murder of counts to the impish fun of the revelers.
And yet even in all the humdrum the most brought out one was the rumours of the High healer. His aloofness and yet being in the most coveted position attracted all kinds of attention.
And yet instead of his services towards his land, the citizens were enraptured by his beautiful physique. No one was immune to cold beauty. This day was no different.
A hush fell over the outrageous rumours. All the gazes fixed on the inapproachable figure who walked with elegance that screamed indifference. The air a cold barrier around him. Pushing away the sly hands that tried to fleetingly feel, reach the High healer.
Christopher was used to the mistreatment. And knew the sweet smiles and admiring glances hide the most vicious of people. The fae were never kind. Everything came at a price. Even in the family.
Creating a soft yet icy cold barrier around himself. Chris strode towards the meeting hall. Ready to face the reason he was summoned eventhough he already had an inkling.
The barrier was still tightly bound even while Chris was in the presence of the king. The court had taught him one lesson and he could not forget it even if he tried to.
The proceedings or his predicament didn't rattle surprise in him, but the innuendo of something unexpected.
"I hand over to you the matter concerning the blithe. You might find all the necessary details at your tower. And as your guard, I would like to appoint my youngest son, Lee Minho. As your safety might be at risk due to the sudden boldness of our nemesis. I would prefer if you both develop a close bond beyond friendship while he assists you on the case as well."
The message was clear. The king wished him to be the bride of the young prince. Uncertainty and a tint of fear swirled in the ebony irises.
He couldn't deny nor accept the proposal. Marriage and consumption held little to no meaning if the betrothed were not mates.
The Young Prince, a fae with capability to manipulate water, Lee Minho. The son of the Princess of Cerulia and the King of Hypnos.
A frivolous fae, who gave no importance to the rules and followed through with his thoughts. The fae was wild and admired by the citizens. His tales spread far and wide over the castle walls of the capital Oneiros.
Lee Minho was everything Chris admired and feared. Chris wasn't ready to let in a tornado in his life. And one as ambitious and wilful as the young prince.
And yet he had no control over the matter. The king had declared the prince's claim over him. And neither a sane nor insane person would dare to go against it.
With heavy steps, the high healer walked back to his work space. Yet no matter how uncertain the future unraveled into. Chris could feel a warmth bloom in the cold crevices of his icicle of a heart. Hope. Hope that maybe Nyx was finally showing him mercy.
He crushed the warmth before it could reach it's full blossom. He could not let the prince in. The prince would tire out eventually. Accepting the warmth of hope would lead him to pain.
Shutting away all thoughts of his self proclaimed fiancee the high healer trotted towards his tower. To spend another one of his days tiring himself to the edge of his consciousness. Forgetting everything but the blithe.
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Demn I want to complete this book asap cause I really like it. But I can't and somehow I am lazy to do it too. Eitherways I hope this is good one.
How are y'all doing tho?
-Anon