i had too many drafts for this chapter jesus
***
Brice adjusted his posture as he drew his golden sword back. Mitch snickered, a sly grin stretched from ear to ear. Jerome sat on the sidelines, silently sipping his juice box.
"You're not too bad," Mitch began, "for a rookie at least. You really need to work on stance and posture if you want to put that royal sword of yours to use."
Brice sighed, plopping onto the ground. He stared at his hands, blistering and bruised. He clenched his fist, looking up. Mitch stood ahead, the wind flowing through his locks. His diamond sword rested on his shoulder, and not a scratch was on him. He released an exasperated sigh; Mitchell was an astonishing example of how a fighter—summoner elementals to be specific—should be like. As much as he despised saying it, he wanted to have the same skills as Mitch. That's how he ended up with a /half-decently/ shitty mentor.
Brice's golden sword was rested on the dirt. It shone brightly in the high sun. It was passed down to him by his father—the king who planned to exterminate Seto's kind. It was long, thick, and had a emerald towards the tip. He wasn't sure what the emerald was for, it was an oddly specific format. Simple decoration wouldn't have made sense, his ancestors did things for certain reasons. His father used the sword but refused to tell him about what the sword's original purpose was. Strange.
It was Sunday, two days since Seto had single-handedly left the School of Creation. Isaac, Sub, Ethan, and Kyle had oddly stayed behind due to orders of the brunet—the Prince of Sorcerers. The thought of something bad happening to Seto made his stomach churn. This was Seto's brother—a male that could possibly have the power to tear the world into two parts. Brice wished he could have tagged along, he worried constantly about Seto's safety.
It was difficult keeping the secret to himself. It wasn't like Seto was a burden—he wanted to object all those who claimed Sorcerers were wicked, emotionless beings with no possible recollection of thoughts. If he did as such then people would get suspicious. A pure-blood Hybrid siding with Sorcerers would not rest well with his people, and neither would it be with his father. The chilling thought of his disappointing eyes sent waves of disparity through his mind.
By the time he finished his thoughts, Mitch had already left. Jerome was gone, too. Just a simple juice box on the grass was left behind, along with a yellow straw that was chewed on and managed to be crumpled up. The two would probably train tomorrow again, which left Brice with the remainder of the day to either worry or worry. Yes, there was no other option for him. He stood up and began his long journey back to his house.
Seto had promised he would be okay—he was just the type of person to do that. Surely enough he could have been smart enough to bring at least some type of backup, but then again he was the type to be unpredictable as well. As much as Brice wanted to be Seto's guard, he didn't know Seto's true potential. After all, Seto beat Brice two weeks ago with only 8%—the highest power he had ever seen the Sorcerer used. How could he possibly be like when using 100%? He shrugged off the thought.
Back to his original thoughts, Brice knew that Seto went alone—and he truly did want to go alone. Or, at least Brice assumed he did. Seto didn't want Brice to go with him, he didn't want Brice to get hurt. He was just that type of person who seemed like a "lone-wolf," actually "lone-sorcerer" in this case. That night where Seto was saying his goodbyes pained him. Watching someone you love easily slip away from youth fingers isn't the easiest thing to do.
He wondered what they could be doing right now together. Brice wanted to be that cliché boyfriend and take Seto to carnivals, around the town, and to stupid horror movies that had the most cheesiest jump scares. Brice wanted to buy him things, manage to spoil him somehow with a love that would last. If the circumstances weren't so drastic, maybe the two would be together right now. But no, destiny decides that the two generations of enemy species should intertwine perfectly.
And destiny was correct on that point.
He wasn't paying attention very well, for as he managed to bump into a pole while he was walking.
"Fuck!" Brice cursed as he tumbled backwards.
"And a hello to you too," a voice behind him replied. Brice turned around to be met with Kyle and Isaac. He assumed Isaac was the one who spoke.
Brice helped himself up, rather than taking Isaac's hand that was reached out for him. The purple haired male huffed, crossing his arms. "I'm assuming Seto told you."
A lump in Brice's throat made his voice sound dry and his lips feel chapped, "T-Told me what?"
"You're not a good liar," Kyle snickered. "But in truth, we both are Sorcerers."
Isaac punched Kyle's shoulder, causing him to hiss in displeasure. "What the hell was that for!"
"Oh, nothing really," Isaac replied slyly.
Brice rolled his eyes, deciding to bring the conversation to one that would be to his own advantage, "Why didn't you guys go with Seto?"
The two went quiet for a brief moment. It looked as if they were hesitating to speak, or maybe they just didn't know the answer. Brice waited patiently, he crossed his arms while his sword rested on the ground. To be blunt about the whole "waiting situation" — it was quite awkward for all three parties.
"He didn't want us to get hurt," Isaac concluded, breaking the thick silence between the three.
"Aren't you his cousin, though? You must have the same potential as him," Brice pointed out. Isaac rubbed the back of his neck, coughing.
"Anyway," Kyle began, "what are you doing out here, especially with a sword?"
'Topic change?' Brice pondered to himself.
"Training," Brice put it simply as that.
"Training for what? You're the Prince of Hybrids, you have all the servants at your own disposal," Isaac seemed to snap, or scowl, at the blond. This caused Kyle to punch him in the shoulder in return.
"I'm training for something important," Brice stated, barely managing to not stutter, "now why are you out here?"
"Isaac wanted to watch you in case you decided to betray Se—ow!" The purple haired Sorcerer smacked the other in the back of the neck. It sounded like it would hurt, Brice assumed that there was some kind of hand-imprint left on his pale neck. He chuckled.
"Don't worry about me betraying Seto," Brice replied, picking up his sword and resting it on his shoulder. "You have more things to worry about."
"Oh? Like what?" Isaac taunted, smirking.
"Like how Seto thinks of me in regards to a relationship."
The look on Kyle and Isaac's faces were simply astonishing.
***
Seto sat on the hillside, overlooking the palace he had grew up in. He wasn't suppose to go back, he felt guilty for doing so. He assumed that his father knew something about Jason's arising, so he needed to search through the palace. They wanted him back at the palace anyway, so he return wasn't too out of the ordinary. They stated that the mission was too "dangerous," and should not be assigned to a minor.
As his thoughts went to clear and he was about to head down, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Seto felt disgusted, a boiling urge in his stomach wanted to throw the man behind him off the cliff and watch him plummet. Of course, that wouldn't be so rational—he was suppose to play along until he found all of the information he needed, then he would proceed back to the School of Creation. He sighed, saying, "Yes?"
The Headmaster frowned as he sat down next to the brunet, he too gazing over the mainland. "This is the place your mother always went to when she needed to think."
Seto bit his lip—how cliché was this going to be?
"Oh," was all he murmured.
"I've been reading through your journal entries and the information served is," Headmaster began. Seto waited to get scolded, but in return that wasn't the case, "acceptable."
Seto nodded, "Thank you. They suspected me to be a brother of Jason when I first came there, so it's good that I got pulled out."
The Headmaster stood up, his cape flowing in he wind as he stretched, "Your brother was a good person, but got influenced by the Insanity. I suppose it's the same Insanity you're in touch with, you never broke off the contract."
Seto winced. His father continued, "Your power has been exponentially increased. The man you made a contract with is a half Omega type Sorcerer breed—they feed on ones that interest them. They were supposedly exterminated during the first war, but I guess I'm wrong."
Seto bit his lip again, hoping to draw blood and blur out his father's words. Yet, he continued talking—Seto didn't want to hear any of it.
"We are scheduling our attack to next week against the Hybrids. Now that we know their powers are not the same as ours, it'll be simple to wipe them out. We just need some preparation, that's all. You will get to personally destroy that Prince if you want."
The lump in Seto's throats prevented him from speaking. He had to get out of here within a week's time with all the information? He twiddled with his thumbs, weakly nodding his head. The Headmaster grinned from ear to ear; a sadistic one to say the least.
"Good," he said, breaking the silence. "That's my boy."
With that, Seto felt his father's presence disappear. He was alone. His feet dangled from the cliff side, he realized he mindlessly moved up and was dangerously close to falling. He took a look at his pale hands, then his finger nails that were painted black for the sign of the contract he had made with Sub. He figured he would put on some gloves for the time being, until he'd get back of course.
He traced his hand against his amulet, red and shining that was still on his neck. His wristband he had gotten from the School of Creation was left at his rental house on the school grounds. Though the efforts of wanting to bring it with him, the tracker would have resulted in a capture—it was too early for his secret to be revealed.
Too early.
Too early.
Brice snapped back to his mind. God—how he missed him and longed to hear his voice again. He wanted to see those blue eyes and run his scrawny fingers through his golden hair. He wanted to walk around with him again, have those silly conversations, and just bask in his presence. He wondered how he was doing, and he wondered if he was coping with the fact that he left without him.
It was too dangerous—too dangerous for all of them. He wanted to protect them—yet how could he do that if he couldn't protect himself during most occasions?
But then he thought back to his father. He acted oddly—pleasant. Of course, the fact of another war drowned that, but still he managed to give a compliment to the brunet. That's something new and practically unheard of. He groaned and buried his face into his hands. He didn't know what he was going to do at this point.
Which was wrong and which was right?
He gave an exasperated sigh, looked up to the sky, and tumbled foreword off the cliff.