"Someday it'll be forgotten from your mind but unknowingly it will linger in your heart, deep as a scar and you'll always feel it inside—even if you can't remember why it's there..."
—Alexis Peters
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—ARIC'S POV—
If there was one thing Aric hated more than that infuriating Tedros it was the new guy in school; Filip of Mount Honora. He'd arrived just a day ago, two days before the trial was supposed to take place between the boys and girls, insisting he'd come to the Boys' School for a chance at the treasure.
Since the trial was now only in two days, the boys had been training more harder than ever with the top ranked students being categorized in pairs that'd meet up in the woods the day of the trial but at separate times. Aric was, of course, one of the top ranked boys in the school with his henchmen falling right behind him.
But Filip, however, was ranked just above Tedros who'd luckily been deemed the runt after the boys' faculty had given him a murky cell as a room. Aric had taken great delight when the sleeping teachers had awoken and learned of Tedros' faulty leadership. Now, the prince was getting exactly what he deserved; a punishment of a friendless low ranked position. Now, instead of Tedros being in charge of the school, it was Aric who was practically the king of the castle.
Along with the boys' feverish preparations for the upcoming trial, the top ranked boys in each class would be forced to do Storian duty every night to look for the pen which was missing somewhere in the School Master's tower. Aric was, luckily, too busy administering punishment to fellow students to care about some stupid pen that dictated the fate of good and evil.
That particular morning, Aric awoke to someone shaking him awake. He pried open his violet eyes and blinked sleep from his eyes to see Krushem looming over him.
"Sorry to wake you, sir," Krushem apologized quickly, gaze downcast. "The boys have gathered for swordplay in Professor Espada's room. You missed breakfast, and we didn't want to disturb your sleep—"
Aric tore the covers off himself and threw his hands over his head to stretch. Krushem trailed off as Aric lurched out of the comfort of his bed and snatched his uniform off the floor. "You're dismissed, Krushem," Aric told him. "I'll be out in a sec."
Krushem nodded assertively and walked out, leaving Aric to get dressed hurriedly. Although Aric wasn't a student and there were many boys in the school who weren't exactly students to begin with, all the boys were required to participate in training or they'd be kicked out.
That was the only requirement for the many boys who'd arrived to the old School for evil, each hoping to win the trial by cutting off Agatha and Sophie's heads. The only thing the princes and villains cared for was either priceless riches or the return of good and evil to how it was.
Aric would much rather have things stay how they were. The bright side to the school for boys was just that...no girls. When girls were around, boys acted like foggy eyed fools and head over heels in love. It was uncanny and irritating. Aric was content for now with the boys cowering at the sight of him and shrinking away when he got too close. It was their fear that made Aric pleased, it was their pain that made him forgot about his own and cause him to slip back into a darkened place of hatred where no scaled blue eyed boy could disturb his thoughts.
Because forgetting Japeth was far better than remembering him and yearning for him to come back. It was only a few days ago or so that Aric had sent Japeth a letter to Arbed telling him goodbye and that he was letting him go. It was probably the fifth or sixth letter Aric had sent so far, and he intended it to be the last one, although he'd received no response from Japeth yet. The fact that Aric hadn't heard from his departed friend made him melancholy, but than he turned his thoughts to Dean Burnhilde and he'd understood. It was that infuriating gooey witch dean who was most likely keeping Aric's letters from Japeth, and that was the only reason Japeth hadn't written back.
Part of Aric wanted to go on a warpath to kill the Dean, but going back to Arbed now would be foolish. He'd been banished and going back would only stir up old memories Aric had no intention of delving back into.
For now, Aric's goal would remain the same. He was going to kill Lady Lesso once and for all and nothing could keep him from that.
With a clenched jaw, Aric slipped on his uniform; a black leather vest with a blood red cape at the back, tall leather boots, and a coiled whip at the belt. He swiped his dagger from beneath his pillow and nestled it in the holster at his leg after giving it a longing glance. Than, fully clothed and hair as naturally spiked as ever, Aric stepped out of his room, his heavy boots thumping against the aluminum floor.
There were only a few kids lingering in the hall, three boys conversing with each other in hushed tones. When they spotted Aric nearing, they scattered as if they'd been caught doing something bad and fled down the hall.
Aric rolled his eyes and approached Professor Espada's classroom; a spacious gym like room with plenty of space for boys to duel. Aric could hear boys fighting and the sounds of swords clashing as he pulled open the door to see at least twenty boys gathered in the room and filed against the back wall as they awaited their turns to duel.
In the center of the room was Chaddik and Vex, and it seemed Chaddik was overpowering Vex with his fighting skills. Vex looked like a puny coward with his pointy ears and messy hair along with his futile attempts to block Chaddik's attacks. It didn't take long for Chaddik to knock Vex off his feet and for the defeated Never boy to surrender with the tip of Chaddik's sword aimed at Vex's throat.
Aric caught Chaddik's eye and the prince stiffened and didn't look very triumphant despite his obvious win against Vex. The poor prince was still petrified of Aric after he'd been beaten by him in the doom room, and Aric gave him a knife edged smile that made Chaddik flinch and flee back into line.
Professor Espada glanced up at Aric as he twirled his fancy mustache before he nodded at the raven haired boy. It was Aric's turn to duel.
Aric selected a heavy sword from the weapons' rack and held it up as he walked up to the center of the room, his confidence sure.
Yesterday, it was Filip who'd won against a weakened Tedros. Of course, it was easy to assume Filip, with his strong build, would easily win over Tedros who was malnourished and skinny now that the teachers had limited his food intake. But yesterday, Filip hadn't won at all, at least not in the fact that it was fair game. Aric had seen the other boys in class deliberately sabotage Tedros' chances of winning against Filip by tripping the blonde prince and allowing Filip to steal Tedros' flag. Filip had cheated.
Aric was hoping to duel against the elfish prince of Honora, but Filip was nowhere to be seen, making Aric guess he was participating in another class. Aric allowed his violet gaze to scan the line of boys, but they all looked away when he met their gazes and plastered themselves against the wall in fear.
It was a Pifflepaff prince that caught Aric's eye. The boy was in the back of the line, his expression weary. But it was his deep blue eyes that intrigued Aric so, and he jerked a finger at the prince, voice commanding; "You."
The prince looked shocked that Aric had outed him out, and he hesitantly stepped forward, legs trembling. He retrieved a weapon from the rack and turned to Aric, gaze wide in fear. Aric could see the boy's fingers curled around the hilt of the sword shaking.
But still, Aric couldn't keep his gaze from the prince's eyes—oh god. His blue BLUE eyes that made Aric falter.
"Your name?" Aric questioned as the prince drew towards him.
"Wil...Wilson," the boy stuttered. "Wilson of Pifflepaff Hill—Hills, Sir."
Aric peered closer at Wilson and could now see that the prince's face was angular and skin a shade of Carmel that was an extraordinary contrast against that of marble colored skin. His dirty blonde hair was neatly groomed and brushed back, not messy or unkempt. It was in that moment, analyzing Wilson, that Aric realized with a jolt that he was comparing the prince to Japeth.
No! Aric tore out of his reverie and gripped his sword tighter as if by doing so it would ward off the memory of his old friend. And looking back up into Wilson's eyes, he could see the fear in his blue depths that weren't blue at all, but a rich green color flecked with blue. It was the same eye color Rhian had.
Great! Now Aric was going crazy and seeing things that weren't there. Because there was no way Wilson could have the same shade of deep beautiful blue topaz that Japeth had. And Nobody would ever be able to match Japeth.
Now, Aric saw Wilson's stance, jerky and unsure like a terrified boy about to be disciplined by his parents. He saw Wilson's hands continuing to shake on his sword. If it were Japeth in his place, there would be a caring expression on his face. Japeth would stand surely and without fear. Japeth would give Aric a playful look that Aric would return with a smirk.
Than, the two friends would dance. Two fighters twirling about, punches flying and dodging being done accordingly. Their steps would sync up to the beat of their darkened hearts, a rhythm in tune with the pace of their duel. And the only thing Aric would be focused on would be anticipating Japeth's every move, using every ounce of his willpower not to succumb to Japeth's attacks.
But Aric would fail. He'd admit defeat because he knew he could never bring himself to win against Japeth, the one boy who knew the darkest parts of him and accepted them when Aric's own mother wouldn't.
But in reality, the punches fell away to swords crashing, their blades sliding against one another as Aric swung his weapon at Wilson who barely managed to block his attack. It wasn't contentment that brimmed from Aric's dueling partner, but terror.
Wilson cried out as the blade of Aric's sword dug into his shoulder and blood dripped down the length of his arm. Wilson tried to jab his sword at Aric to even the score, but Aric dodged it and thrust his boot into Wilson's stomach. Wilson bawled over in pain, presenting Aric with the perfect opportunity to swipe the weapon from his hands and toss it to the side before Aric aimed his blade at Wilson's throat, steadily applying pressure. The top of Aric's sword sank into the soft flesh of Wilson's neck, but it wasn't too deep to be fatal.
Wilson clutched his throat urgently, tears springing into his Rhian—like eyes. "I surrender!" He gasped, fumbling for the flag in his pocket. He tore it out and threw it to the ground.
Aric glared down at the sniffling prince, heart burning in an inner rage he'd only felt once before when he'd attacked Rhian and attempted to kill him. Back than, Aric's rage had come from an urge to protect Japeth, to protect their friendship against Rhian's harsh judgment. Back than, Aric had only wanted to defend Japeth against his brother's cruel words.
But now? Now, this hatred swirling in Aric's violet eyes was from his yearning to see Japeth once more despite wanting to forget his old friend for good. This rage came from the familiar need to kill the boy before him, to make him suffer for not understanding the extent of Aric's anger.
And Aric most definitely would've sunk the blade ever so deeper into Wilson's throat and than watched him bleed out as the red fluid spurted from the gap in his neck...He would've if only it wasn't for Professor Espada who stepped up with a stern expression on his face.
"That's enough, young man," Professor Espada ordered, voice hard. But Aric saw the impressed look in his eyes. "Save it for the doom room. This isn't some place you can just torture—This is a classroom. All princes in this school still have a code to show mercy when it's necessary. It is the way of good."
Aric snatched his blade off Wilson's throat and the prince scrambled to his feet and stumbled back into line, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Aric sneered at Professor Espada as he threw his sword to the ground with a clatter.
"Well it's too bad I'm not some prince," Aric seethed, fists clenched before he spun on his heel and stormed out of the room with Professor Espada staring after him.
Back in the hall, Aric found his henchmen waiting for him. Krushem, Balleng and Armeq stood at attention in their matching red capes and black leather uniforms just like the one Aric wore. They dipped their heads respectfully when they saw Aric approach.
"Hoods," Aric ordered, voice deep and commanding. "Anything to report?"
The three henchmen exchanged glances before Armeq blinked in response. "The girls, scouts say, haven't been seen about much since they're training for the trial," Armeq informed his master. "But the Dean, Evelyn Sader, has been spotted lurking by the cyan caves in the blue forest the past three days. The Scouts suspect she's planning an attack or an ambush around that area when the trial comes forth."
Aric pondered over Armeq's words and struggled not to clench his fist at the name of the mother who'd left his best friend behind. Aric recalled Japeth's stories of his childhood and how he'd described him and Rhian's mother as not just beautiful, strong and bold, but cunning and sneaky as well. Cunningness and sneakiness meant danger though, and as the Dean of the School for Girls, Evelyn Sader definitely was someone the school for Boys had to be cautious of. She did want to enslave all the boys after all to ensure a new era of feminism.
"But the Cyan Caves were agreed to be off limits during the trial," Aric realized. "And even if the Dean is planning some ambush during the trial, she won't be able to enact it since all the teachers and adults are forbidden from interfering in the trial. Don't be stupid, Armeq—Think. You have a brain for a reason, don't you?"
Armeq looked humiliated, lowering his gaze to his boots in shame. "My apologies, Sir," He muttered as Krushem and Balleng stirred anxiously.
"Anything else?" Aric asked. "Anything at all?"
"There are two boys in the Doom Room awaiting punishment, Sir," Krushem answered. "I caught them trying to run to the School for Girls, saying they liked it better there and missed their princesses."
Aric sneered at his words, but he wasn't feeling too well to punish the boys himself. Besides, Aric needed to figure out how to clear his head again of a certain somebody.
"Go punish them in my place," Aric hissed. "I've got work to do."
His henchmen didn't protest as Aric swept away from them and back down the hall, cursing under his breath all the while. It wasn't long before Aric found himself in the dining hall where a few stray boys were already eating their breakfast of greasy eggs and crispy bacon. Aric's stomach growled at the sight of food, realizing he'd not eaten since mid afternoon yesterday.
So Aric grabbed a pail and plopped down at his usual spot where he began to dig into his food. After all of his meals of meat and carbs here at the School for Boys, Aric noticed a change in his physique. His thighs were larger, his torso bigger and after all the whipping he'd been doing, his body had become more muscular. His arms, once barely taut with muscle, were now more muscular than before and his chest was rippled.
Aric considered himself lucky to have gotten so big and strong since his stay at the School for Boys, but sometimes, as he gnawed at a piece of bacon, he couldn't help but crave the blueberries him and Japeth used to eat.
Still, Aric pushed the thought of Japeth away before he devoured the rest of his food and got up from the table to find the other few boys lingering in the room staring at him.
"Something funny?" Aric sneered, glaring at them.
The boys paled and quickly shook their heads in response. "No, Aric," one of them stuttered, quaking in fear as Aric's menacing gaze fell upon him.
"You forgot a sir with that," Aric said, slinking towards the boys who flinched away from him. He thrust his face into the one's who spoke, teeth gnashed. "Learn. Some. Respect. Or it's off to the Doom Room for you and your friends."
The boys gapped at him, frightened by the menace in his voice. But Aric only felt pleasure at their submissive looks. He felt a familiar urge to punish the boys and his hand inched towards the whip at his waist, preparing to assert a punishment these boys wouldn't soon forget—
"Aric," a voice called behind him, and Aric turned to see Professor Manley walking towards him. "I think Tedros is due for a beating later. See to it that it's done please."
Aric forced a smile at the Defense against Girls teacher. "I'll see to it that it's done," Aric said before watching Professor Manley leave.
When Aric turned back around, the boys had fled like the cowards they were. He glared at the emptiness for a long while, every muscle in his body tense with anger, before he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. Intrigued, he shifted his gaze over to see the food chart hung on the wall.
It was a chart the boy's staff had insisted on making in order to magically and automatically track all the food that was coming out of the kitchen so that way the students wouldn't eat too much and run out of food. Aric scanned the long chart consisting of all the boys' names and the amount of food they'd consumed that day. His name was already written from his yesterday's feast of pork chops and mashed potatoes. And as he stared at his name, he watched as invisible fingers traced ink against the next empty slot beside it, marking him off for his breakfast of bacon and eggs he'd just eaten.
But there was something off about the chart. Aric peered closer to find it was the name at the very bottom, Fillip of Mount Honora, along with the box saying that he'd taken two buckets of food. A single bucket could be full of enough food to feed someone like Fillip, so why had he taken two of them?
Aric could only suspect Fillip had stolen extra food, and in the School for Boys that was a punishable offense. A tingle of excitement squirmed in Aric's gut as he recalled Professor Manley's words.
The puny prince of Camelot was due for a beating and now, so was his infuriating roommate. Aric couldn't believe his luck. He now had the opportunity to punish both boys, and after the way Fillip had talked down on him when he'd first arrived in the School—well, Aric was suddenly back in the mood to administer punishments.
But first, Aric needed to do something. In Manley's defense against Girls class, the Professor had spoken of a potion in a book of spells, a potion that could make people see whoever it was they desired—like a hallucination. The potion was meant to distract girls so boys could have an easier chance at attacking them while their guard was down.
Aric intended to use that potion for himself. He decided he wanted to confront his mother as an illusion before he confronted her for real. He wanted to break her down and punish her with his words.
So Aric walked to Manley's classroom where he retrieved one of the professor's spell books, leafing through the pages before he found what he was looking for.
According to the recipe, all Aric needed was a drop of his own blood, some sweat, and a drop of blood belonging to someone he loathed. Seemed Easy enough.
Aric would've used his mother's blood, but since he couldn't get to her, that wasn't an option. Luckily, there were two boys Aric knew of in this very school who he loathed, and he was going to punish them tonight.
With two out of three ingredients at his fingertips, Aric procured an empty vial from a cabinet in Manley's classroom which he stuck in his pant's pocket for safe keeping.
With only one other ingredient to get, Aric grudgingly went to attend the rest of his classes; He paid very little attention to Professor Lukas' lectures in his Fraternity and teamwork class and forced himself to complete the course in his Forest Fitness class.
Usually, Aric would be at the top of his game in his classes, but something was holding him back. Was it the thought of beating Tedros and Fillip which distracted him...or was it the ever persistent remembrance of Japeth that made him act so?
Aric wasn't sure, and his uncertainty seemed to show, for his henchmen looked concerned as Aric walked past them when Forest Fitness was over. They didn't ask him what was wrong though, and Aric was glad.
With all his classes over, Aric headed for Evil's sewers where Tedros and Fillip's "room" was located in a murky dungeon cell. The shadows stretched across the stone floor, and the grating of the cell bars glinted in the shadows cast by flaming torches.
Through the cell bars, Aric made out two figures sitting on opposing beds in silence. Except the beds were pulled close so that the two figures looked to be sitting beside each other.
For an instant, Aric hesitated, remembering a time he'd sat that close to someone...And for that single instant, he didn't see Fillip and Tedros, he saw himself alongside Japeth, sitting on the roof atop Arbed.
No...Aric pushed the image away as he opened the rusted cell door, fingertips reaching down to graze the coiled whip at his belt.
At the sight of him, Fillip's emerald gaze widened like that of a terrified animal's. "No! You'll kill him!" The elfish Prince cried, obviously desperate to keep Tedros out of harm's way.
"Late for Storian duty, aren't you?" Aric hissed, recalling that Fillip had ranked top student in all his classes today.
Fillip didn't seem to hear this though as he lurched from the bed. "Look at him," Fillip said, tone strangled in emotion. "He can't survive—"
But Aric didn't look at Tedros, knowing what the elfin prince said was true. In the darkness at Tedros's feet, Aric found the stolen pail of food, uneaten.
"Stealing food I see...perhaps we'll start with extra punishment tonight," Aric said aloud, glare burning into both boys.
Fillip didn't seem to realize the true implications in Aric's tone. "No!" He cried. Turning to Tedros. "It's my fault. Tedros—tell him!"
Fillip didn't know Aric knew he'd stolen the food. Fillip thought Aric was blaming Tedros for the stolen Pail, but really what Aric meant by extra punishment was that he was going to punish both boys.
But seeing Tedros turn away from Fillip and the pained look on Fillip's face made Aric change his mind. Fillip would be tortured enough knowing Aric was going to punish Tedros. There was no need to physically punish Fillip if he was going to be emotionally tortured by Tedros' pain.
So Aric let Fillip go, watching him slump out of the cell. When he was gone, Aric turned to the Camelot prince.
"Hands on the Bricks," Aric ordered him, not wanting to see Tedros' blue gaze that made him think of Japeth.
When the prince had done as he commanded, Aric unhooked his whip and rose it over his shoulder, fist tightening as he prepared to lash it against Tedros' already scarred back.
Aric swung, watching the leather coil snap forward, straight for Tedros' shaking form, and he anticipated the cry of pain—the cry of agony that would make him forget about his own pain.
But the cry didn't come. Instead, Aric watched a sudden body move from the shadows, lunging for him. Aric had no time to react as his whip cracked against skin and he was shoved against the rotten stone wall. A hand wrapped around his throat, a meaty hand belonging to Fillip.
Aric's gaze found Fillip's bleeding forearm and he watched the scarlet drops drip down, filling the grooves in the stone floor.
"Tell the teachers that if anyone tries to hurt him again, they'll have to get through me," Fillip snarled, grip tightening around Aric's neck.
For a moment, Aric thought he would keep squeezing and he could feel the breath slipping from his screaming lungs. Than, he felt Fillip's grip loosen and he tore away, managing a sinister smile despite his aching throat.
"Just what we need in the Trial. Someone who puts loyalty first," Aric rasped, turning to leave. "I'll talk to the teachers about finding you a more suitable room."
As Aric made his leave, he heard Fillip call after him, "Fine right here!"
Aric didn't retort, storming back through the sewers as his throat throbbed. He should've gone back to punish Tedros, he should've tortured both boys but in that moment, when Fillip had attacked him, Aric had been reminded of Japeth.
Once upon a time, Aric had defended his own friend against somebody who'd been hurting him just like how Fillip had defended Tedros from Aric. In this situation, Tedros had been Japeth, the boy unable to fight back against others, and Fillip had been Aric, the one willing to defend his friend. And Aric...Aric had been Rhian, the one who didn't care about Japeth, or in this case, Tedros' feelings.
That realization made laughter bubble up from Aric's throat, so loud it echoed off the sewer walls and he had to cover his mouth with a hand to stifle the giggles. Aric had been Rhian. Rhian! What a ridiculous thought.
But Aric would never be like Rhian. He would never hurt Japeth by neglecting him or playing that idiotic role Play. Ugh...There was no absolute way Aric would ever stoop to Rhian's level.
Rhian was gone, long gone. And so was Japeth. Still, both of the brothers were unforgotten in Aric's mind no matter how hard he tried to let them go...Especially Japeth.
Aric clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together in frustration as he made his way out of the stinking sewers and outside where he saw the School for Girls looming across the broken half bridge, the transparent shield glinting in the moonlight. Somewhere in that school was his long lost mother, the woman he loathed more than anything.
And soon, he'd make her pay. All he needed to do now was confront her ghost. He had all he needed; the sweat beneath his armpits, the blood coursing through his veins, and Fillip's blood soaking the length of his whip.
When Aric arrived back at his room, he sat on his bed with his empty vial and filled it with the required ingredients. Than, in order for the potion to work Aric had to think of the person he desired to see the most and drink it.
Aric pictured his mother, her black braid and violet eyes, her tight lips and defined cheekbones, and he raised the vial to his lips, tipping his head back to allow the repulsive drink to slide down his throat.
With that task finished, he looked around, awaiting for the potion to set in so he could see his mother. But for a second, nothing happened and Aric wondered if he'd made the potion wrong.
Suddenly, his vision began to blur and pain flared at his skin as if somebody had used a knife to inflict cuts all over his body. But the pain faded as quickly as it'd come and when Aric opened his eyes, he expected to see Lady Lesso looming over him.
Instead, it wasn't his mother that stood before him...but rather a boy. Aric's gaze trailed over his messy copper hair, across his beautifully carved nose and clear aqua blue eyes. Something inside Aric clenched, his darkened heart skipping a beat as he gazed upon his long lost friend.
"Japeth," Aric whispered, rubbing his eyes, afraid that it was all a dream. That if he closed them, Japeth would be gone, leaving Lady Lesso in his place. "Is it...is it really you?"
Japeth looked so real. His Scims covered every inch of his body like squirming ribbons and Aric resisted the urge to reach out and touch them, feel their familiar scales he missed so much.
Aric almost forgot How to breathe, and he chastised himself for being so foolish. He was meant to let Japeth go a long time ago, yet here Japeth stood now in the form of an illusion that looked so real.
When Japeth spoke in the shocked silence, his voice sounded just as Aric remembered it. But Aric couldn't let Japeth get to him. His mind had betrayed him, believing it was Japeth who Aric desired to see the most—But it was Lady Lesso who he'd wanted to see. It couldn't be Japeth.
"As much as you don't wanna admit it to yourself, I'll always be a part of you, Aric," Japeth whispered, stepping forward.
Aric tried to escape, backing away as his muscles clenched in that familiar anger. "No," He seethed, pointing an accusing finger at the mirage of his best friend. "You're gone. I let you go! You made your choice to stay with your rotten brother. It's too late for regret."
But Japeth only stepped closer to Aric till Aric almost thought he could feel Japeth's bodily warmth radiating over him. Japeth wasn't really there though. It was all in Aric's head, yet he didn't move his gaze from his friend's, transfixed by those blue skies he'd longed to see again for so long.
"You say it's too late for regret yet you yourself are feeling regretful now, aren't you, Aric?" Japeth said, nearing closer and closer, cornering Aric. His blue eyes seemed to pierce a hole into Aric's very soul as Aric's legs hit the edge of his bed.
"You think I'll hate you if I see what you've become," Japeth whispered, reaching for Aric as he cringed away. A deep sadness crossed over Japeth's face that had Aric's darkened heart breaking in pieces. "But I'd never hate you, Aric," Japeth breathed, extending his finger to trace an invisible path across Aric's cheek.
Aric had lost his breath as if a hand had wrapped around his throat to squeeze the breath from his lungs. But he couldn't move, so he remained frozen, entrapped by Japeth's words. He could almost feel the ghostly touch of Japeth's finger against his face, and he shivered in delight.
"Come home to me, Aric," Japeth murmured, falling to his knees in a sign of weakness, a sign of desperation. "Whatever you've done, I'll forgive you. Whatever's holding you back, just forget it. I need you. Let this go and come back to me, please...We both know that's what you truly want."
Staring into his friend's pleading blue eyes, Aric felt something within his soul cry out in agony. Did he want to be with Japeth?
A deep part of Aric did yearn to go back to Foxwood, to reunite with Japeth. He wanted to join his friend and be with him like it always should've been. But the rest of Aric believed that he didn't deserve to go back, that he didn't deserve Japeth's forgiveness. And Aric couldn't bear the thought of telling Japeth every little thing he'd done since his banishment, using other boy's pain as his pleasure because it made him forget about the things he didn't want to dwell on. He couldn't face Japeth again after what he did to his brother.
"I can't, Japeth," Aric told him, voice breaking despite the tough expression he tried to maintain. "I'm too far gone. I'm too far deep to go back now. You don't know the things I've done, the things I've wanted to do to my Mother to make her suffer. I've changed, Japeth. How can I ever expect you to forgive me when I haven't even forgiven myself?"
"You promised you'd never leave me..." Japeth responded, voice strangled with emotion that had Aric's own emotions betraying him; his violet eyes burned in unshed tears he was forced to blink away.
"I lied," Aric snapped, anger overcoming him. He gritted his teeth at Japeth, muscles tense with rage to mask his pain. "I don't need you, Japeth. All you were to me was a blue eyed distraction who dumped all his brotherly issues on me. Now leave me! Leave me...for good."
The heartbroken look upon Japeth's face was all to familiar. It was the same face that had haunted Aric day and night to no end, the last face he recalled seeing as he was dragged away from Foxwood for good. Aric had to look away before he allowed himself to break.
"You were my home," Japeth's soft words floated in the tense air between them, lingering there like the undeniable truth. Aric tried not to feel disparity as he watched the mirage of his friend turn away, beginning to fade like a ghost till he was almost transparent.
A sudden wave of desperation clawed at Aric and he finally had the strength to move, lurching forward to grab at Japeth. But his fingers slipped through nothing but air and the touch he thought he'd felt before was gone as a fading Japeth turned to him, smiling sadly.
"Don't leave!" The cry ripped from Aric's throat. "Don't leave me again...Japeth!"
But Japeth had begun to fade even faster now as the mirage fell apart right before Aric's very eyes. He could do nothing but watch as his only friend slipped away, leaving him with his final words; "I didn't leave you, Aric...You left me."
Those last words echoed in Aric's skull, making his temples throb—a clear sign he was getting a headache. His eyes moved to the empty vial and with a grunt of anger and pain, he brought his boot down, crushing the vial beneath his weight. The sound of breaking glass didn't calm him though as he kicked the shards away and slammed his fists against the wall. The bricks cracked and Aric lowered his bloody fists to find an indent in the cracked stone.
"Sir?" A sudden voice made Aric jump, caught off guard and he turned to the closed door. "Something wrong?"
Aric had to take a deep breath to compose himself before he opened it to find Krushem standing in the hall.
"Krushem," Aric said, forcing the word out between his dry lips. He tried to act normal, wanting to plaster his trademark smirk across his face, but it fell flat.
"I heard you yelling from down the hall," Krushem said, brows furrowing in confusion as he looked over Aric's shoulder to see that his bedroom was empty. "I thought you were punishing someone with all that screaming you were doing—"
"Well, I wasn't," Aric cut him off with an impassive look. "Just...practicing my yelling skills for next time an incompetent boy has to be punished."
The lie slipped from Aric like butter, and Krushem looked like he didn't believe him, but he nodded anyway. His green eyes lingered over the broken glass scattered on the floor before his attention snapped back up to Aric's face.
"If everything's situated with you than," Krushem began, stepping away from the doorway, "I shall leave you be. Sorry for interrupting your...practice. The boys and I'll meet you in the dining hall later tonight?"
"Yes, Krushem," Aric said, taking note of the disbelief in Krushem's tone when he'd said the word practice. It was plain obvious to Aric that Krushem had most likely heard him yelling at nothing and crying out for Japeth to come back to him.
Part of Aric suspected Krushem would tell Balleng and Armeq that their master was crazy, insane. But if Aric was anything, it was sick and torturous, not crazy. But why did it bother Aric anyway?
He shouldn't have cared if three boys saw him as insane because they were his henchmen and had chosen to follow him after all. But deep down, Aric felt threatened for the briefest of moments and his eyes sought his dagger that he'd left on the bed.
Aric would have no trouble grabbing it and sinking the blade into Krushem to silence him for good. But it was a callback to Carmelo, the first person Aric had ever killed and how messy it'd been to drag his body deeper into the woods so it would look like the prince had walked away from camp. Than, Aric had used his dagger to mutilate him, carving out his intestines to make it look like he'd been attacked by a wild animal.
Aric should've been disturbed to find that he'd fallen asleep right after killing somebody, but his sleep had been peaceful. Still, he'd awoken when the first traces of sunlight had began to shimmer down from the dawn clouded sky and had set to work on Carmelo's dead body.
Balleng, Armeq, and Krushem fell for Aric's story about how he'd stumbled upon Carmelo's dead body a mile away from their campsite and suspected he'd been attacked by a monster. The boys didn't cry like Aric was initially dreading. Instead, Krushem had remarked what a shame it'd been to lose such a memorable companion such as Carmelo before all the boys continued on their journey (They didn't bother to bury Carmelo since they didn't have any shovels).
Carmelo hadn't been important to the group than. But Krushem was more respected by Balleng and Armeq and if Aric killed him than he'd lose not only one, but three loyal henchmen. Aric could always get more henchmen to follow him, but that was too much work on his part.
Plus there was the chance Aric could be kicked out of the School for Boys if the teachers discovered he'd killed a fellow boy. Yet the teachers allowed Aric to whip the boys and punish them, so maybe killing somebody wouldn't be a big deal after all.
Nevertheless, Aric forced himself to relax, his fists loosening as he looked back at Krushem. "Go now," Aric told him. "See you at dinner."
Krushem dipped his head respectfully before he spun and walked away. Aric watched him leave and than he felt his headache begin to flare. He slammed the door closed and slid against it, his butt hitting the cold floor.
For a long time, Aric just sat there, unmoving as his thoughts were clouded by the boy he couldn't seem to let go of. He didn't move from that position for a long time.
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Comment and vote? Thanks to everybody whose reading this! I appreciate it!
—Alexis Peters 🥰