(I'm sorry for the wait, but I promise you! The wait was worth it (if you consider it worth it?)! )
Anazella lay limp next to the cold stone wall of her prison cell. She was given nothing to keep her warm from the cold gust whipping its way past. The others around her grew stiff of the wind, but they were more use to these condition of no protection whatsoever. The goblin in the cell in front of her, on of her new friends who recognized her, looked very worried for her well being as she coughed up nothing but everything.
"Your Majesty?" Tarto was his name. He shivered at the contact of the cold bars to his rough, light purple hands, "Are you fairing alright, My Lady?"
"Thank you, Tarto." Anazella first whispered with a pained smile, "I am perfectly fine where I am. But please, call me Zella. I am no longer the empress of this kingdom."
"You are perfectly more compatible than that darned rotten mongrel fish we have as an emperor, My Lady!" Tarto snapped back while crossing his legs, careful not to cut his beaten legs with his own dull, but lethal claws, "I wish to not yell, but I must for the rightful cause."
"Say Tarto," Anazella scooted closer to her own iron bars of imprisonment, "You have told me your story, and I have mine. Why is it that you are closed behind those bars?"
The goblin paused for a mere second, hesitant to recall his own reason for being in such an awful dungeon. Anazella watched as he dropped his eyes to his hands where he lifted them and twinkled his cut fingers. What looked like faery dust flew out, but in very weak quantities.
"I had a friend, my only friend, back in the Wolfern woods where my tribe is living," Tarto explained, "She was a fae, a very beautiful fae that I think about every single day. She gave me fae dust, so I could fly with her in the woods. It was magical, fun, wonderful. I couldn't ask for a better friend than her." He paused, a grim expression flattening his small smile, "My father disliked our relationship since Fae and Goblins do not like one another. So, he hunted the village of fae and killed every last one of them. Her name was Vaelophine, and she raced over to me with grave wounds. She died in my hands, and for that reason, she has become one with me."
"Ah, yes. Fae folk do have wonderful powers, don't they?" Anazella chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yes, so I am the first Goblin to have such powers. I am able to talk to trees and plants as well as fly, but I'm not simply powerful enough to stay midair for much longer than seven strikes of the long hand."
"That must be why you have more human features, and your teeth aren't as sharp. Your skin is lighter than others I've seen. Thank you, Tarto. Thank you for sharing such personal details."
"Anything for you, My Lady," Tarto smiled back sadly as he leaned against the wall.
Another hour passed with the two talking lowly to one another. Both hardly knew what time of day it was, as there were no windows in this awful dungeon they were thrown in. It had been the longest week Anazella had ever gone through. It had gotten worse when her cell as suddenly opened by ruthless guards. Many of the prisoners became curious, and heads shot through the bars to catch what was going down.
A boy, no older than eighteen years of age, was thrown inside the cell lifelessly. The royal guards took no hesitation into roughly pushing him into the small cell. His clothes were bloody and cut while his olive skin bore worse scars Anazella had ever seen. His white hair was dirty and tinted red from the possible blood filtering through it. On alert, Anazella conversed all her strength to reach the boy and turn him over.
"Emperor Valider has commanded that you will not be having dinner today for your rude actions towards royalty. You have been placed on death row a week from today." One of the guards, a rather wide one, spat. The two walked away in disgust, and Anazella could only worry about the boy as she turned him over.
"Bloody guards," The boy mumbled as he rose up from his position.
"Are you alright?" Anazella quickly asked while sitting in front of the olive-skinned boy.
He pushed his hair out of his face to stare at the woman surprised. It was like he was expecting to be alone like all the rest of them. What surprised Anazella more was the fact that he was able to move with a number of wounds he was suffering through. His face was barely visible to her, as the darkness was at fault, but she could see his surprise with her own eyes as well.
"Of all people I am firstly paired up with, I never thought I'd see the day. The Mistress of Midnight?" The boy was astounded, and Anazella was confused. Almost everyone knew what the Mistress of Midnight was, but only a select few knew who she actually was.
"Might I ask for your name?"
"My name?" The boy whispered, "I don't have a name . . ."
Anazella cocked her head to the size, now officially confused. This poor boy had no name? He was an adult, presumed to be, yet he had nothing to call himself? Had he been living under a bridge his whole life?
"Emperor Valider has never given me a name ever since I had stayed in this dungeon for the last seventeen years of my life."
"So, you're saying that you've been imprisoned in this awful dungeon for seventeen years?!" Anazella was outraged, furious, completely mad. How could Valider contain one boy for that much time? What was so important to keep him alive? Or down here for that matter? "How are you able to speak? Has he ever taught you?"
"That's the thing," The boy cut, "I was the age of two when I entered the castle. I had already known vast knowledge ever since I was born. I was already talking full at the age of one and six months. I remember everything I come across. Tis why I remember you, Empress Anazella."
"Is that why you are trapped here for so long?"
"I do not think so. That is just a fraction of my reason." He laughed and leaned his head against Anazella's shoulder with heavy breathing, "Perhaps, I will show you if you give me something in return?"
"A bargainer, I see?" Anazella giggled for the first time in the weeks she has been in this hell, "Alright, how about I give you a name? Perhaps a knighthood after that?"
"Sounds like a fair deal." The boy laughed back.
"I shall call you . . ." Anazella stopped to gaze at his sharp jaws with blonde stubble dancing across it. His body very slim from the lack of food in his body. Her gaze lifted to his eyes. They were a dark silver, captivating and almost dangerous. She was sure that any young girl or boy would be drawn in at his young age. What made her breath empty was what was on his forehead. It was a small crystal shape on his forehead while lines like a crown stretched across his hairline. She had definitely seen this before, "Jonah. Your name is Sir Jonah Embers."
His eyes widened at the title, "You give me your last name? I do not possess royal blood likes yours--!"
"Worry not, my knight," She muttered, silencing his panic, "I have more reason behind my choice." She ran her thumb across his mark, wondering if he knew what was growing on his face had so much power. "Now, show me your reasons."
Anazella watched as he grabbed her hand with both of his. A low tone in his throat sung a lowly song. Her ears filled with a deep, soothing voice and his hand began to faintly glow. The cuts on his hands disappeared, and she began to feel like her energy was returning and her wounds healing. Jonah grunted as the marks on his face began to grow. She has seen this before with her own son when Obora had sent her images in her head of the magical moment.
Once Jonah was done, the both of them was a good as new. He was confused when tears fled Anazella's eyes, him not realizing that he was reminding her of her son.
If it was true, that this boy was related to her dear Noble and not to her, then he was immediately her son as well.
All she cried was, "My son," while she pulled Jonah in for a tight hug.
*
Noble stared at himself in the mirror with confidence, yet the opposite. The church was more than willing to provide everything for the journey up north to where the resistance was held. Food, clothes, horses, you name it, they provide it. The beast tamer was wearing what looked like very sturdy, very heavy armor. Herald explained that on Leo's birthday, many of the town folk would perform plays of his story, and a suit or armor was made just for the occasion, especially since it has been five hundred years since humans have known of the gods and goddess' existence.
It had been an interesting birthday, Noble could say. With the new dragon horns as well as his silver eyes gazing back at him like a predator's, it was something he wouldn't expect for his birthday.
Neither was the realization that he was, in fact, a God. He was the holy Moon's son, her eldest and her first. He was the eldest brother's first born. One parent was Lunar, and the other was Solar. He was the offspring of two very powerful gods that created the world he stood on today. Noble had come to realize that the first markings on his head were a combination between both Solar and Lunar Royal sigils. Had he been the first for both kingdoms? When were both combined as one holy empire?
At this point, nothing was impossible.
The metal armor form-fitted to his body and moved well when he moved. Instead of a helmet, he bore-crown with dragon wings spreading across his curly, blonde hair. His horns ascended straight up and curved at the ends of the blue gemstone weapons. Following his similar red-colored cape, his red scarf lay loosely around his neck. Herald had informed with many others that through every life he had gone through, this red scarf would follow him to the ends of the earth.
"Your father, Holy Hesperides, gifted you this when you were born. He charmed it with protection spells, and if you haven't noticed, it has a personality. When your caregiver has it, it's lifeless, barely keeps him warm. When it is returned to you, it thrives with your presence. It will do anything to protect you." Herald loved to explain everything to Noble, as his tone was elastic every time.
Noble rubbed his horns, the sensitivity still lingering. The image of Raja playing with them entered his mind, and he flushed a deep red. Would it be considered sinning to do such an act in a church you're considered a God in? That was certainly a pondering thought that bothered the God more than it should.
"Lookin' sharp, Tamer," A certain demon came striding in with a smirk on his face.
Noble stunned by the long awaited appearance of the demon, his expression of uncertainty changed to anger and confusion, "And where have you been? I was worried sick, and I thought you bailed on me and--!?"
"Noble, you know me more than you think. I'm not just gonna abandon you like that. You're like a brother to me." Mylo assured, slapping his hand on Noble's shoulder, "Just trust that I had some work to do. I have someone I want you to meet when we arrive in the Northern Basin next to the Aquarius Lake where the resistance is being held."
"So, you know where we will be heading?" Noble sighed in relief, "I cannot walk blindly while in enemy territory."
"It's not going to be the enemy for long though. It is your country, isn't it?"
"How long have you known about my identity, Mylo?" Noble questioned in a serious tone, his silver eyes piercing Mylo's unnatural blue ones.
Mylo paused, feeling like he was under interrogation from committing the gravest crime. Noble most likely knew at this point who he was since it was his birthday, after all. Herald must have bid him the news beforehand, "I was created when your brother, Cancer, landed down on his third recycle. I was created to blend in with others to keep an eye on everyone. I eventually found you, named Ideus at the time, and well, let's just say that I made a promise to Tharros. While I do serve under Cancer, I was ordered by Tharros to protect you until he found his own merry to you, Leo."
"Fourteen hundred years, huh?" Noble chuckled, "We've been best friends for fourteen hundred years?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Leo." Mylo laughed, "But that means I can show you my true form, or do you remember?"
"Sadly, I do not. You are free to show me if you are comfortable."
Mylo jumped at the chance of freeing his true self to the world. It was consuming energy just to stay in a human-like morph for so long. Noble was more amazed than frightened when he spotted the Morph demon. He was almost like a zombie as patches of skin from different humans were sewn together to make him a different array of traits. His legs were of a lion with thicker fur than usual. A short cat tail popped out from behind, but the overpowering dragon tail succumbed it to hiding. He wore the same clothing as he had as a human.
"More gruesome than what I was expecting," Noble commented, "But you have to be scary if you want to play your part as a demon, huh?"
"At least you understand my struggles," Mylo shrugged, "I do think it is time to head on our way, yes? There is a horde of people outside those doors itching to get a close up with you. I think we must move quickly to get out of such a mess."
"Do you know where Raja might be?" Noble asked with a small pink flush.
"I do believe that the church is giving him some armor similar to yours, but it will say indefinitely when he switches back to a human," Mylo informed.
"You know . . ." Noble went on with his thoughts, easy to share with his best friend, "What do you know about Daley? It looks like everyone is not who they say they are."
Mylo's heart broke at the question. He did know of her fate, and if he were to share that with his godly best friend, he surely would break down and utterly destroy everything in his path. He was still recovering from finding it out on his own, "Are you sure you want to know of her fate?"
Noble was slapped by the dangerous seeping from Mylo's voice, almost as if it was grimly, "I do."
"Daley is a witch. She was apart of a powerful coven in the main city in Hellu, but she was exiled because of her rebellious behavior towards Hellu royalty. She grew resentment towards the country and fled to Lunis. There she found the little village of Meridth where she lived for many years before meeting you. She apprenticed under the Mistress of Midnight, or your foster mother. It was why she came over so often while you were away." Mylo adjusted his position and cleared his throat for the upcoming news, "She was taken, as you know, but I had traveled there while you traveled down the mountain. She was not in the dungeon nor in the torture chambers . . ."
"Then, where was she, Mylo?"
"Daley was standing right next to Emperor Valider as the executioner of the royal family. She called for a bounty on your head for two hundred thousand gold pieces while she executed those who supported the rebellion and the rise of the heavenly child, you being on of them."