A week later.
Iftia: Lyx Palace, Dressing Room
• Elianna •
Clasping the deep blue capelet on the shoulder pad and arranging the gold ropes in place, Elianna helped Rowan in donning the accessories for his ceremonial uniform. Since that night in the gallery, Rowan grew quieter and deeper in his thoughts.
She didn't want to press him to speak to her, knowing that it took a huge step for him to unveil his pain and it would only make sense for her to leave him some space to breathe and gather his thoughts. As she moved to adjust his collar, he rested a hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him.
Carefully, his fingers moved wisps of hair away from her face and he pressed a kiss on her lips as he whispered, "Thank you, love."
"I'll go ahead to check on Arell. I hope Thunder isn't making a mess of his coat," she laughed lightly, moving away.
Rowan flexed his arm and held her back into his hold, resting his head against hers. She felt him taking a deep inhale and his fingers were fiddling with the ends of her brown hair which he twirled idily between his fingers. He said in a low voice, "We're not in a rush and I would like to hold you for a little longer."
"I won't let go of you," she replied in a gentle voice, relaxing against him. "No matter what happens, I'm never letting go of you, Rowan."
"I know," he breathed. "I know, love. Thank you."
He held her in his arms with a sort of silence that weighed them down. She could feel all the unsaid words between them and it caused her to wrap her arms tighter around his waist. Even if he rarely showed it, she knew that he was a person who loved ferociously with warmth and passion. Unhesitatingly, he would place all the people he cared for ahead of him and willingly suffer through all the pain and consequences by himself without letting others carry any burdens of his.
But, Rowan, even the toughest of stones would break, let alone something as fragile as a human soul.
She pressed closer to him, hoping that her love would be enough to ease his suffering and that he could make peace with all the hurt he held in his heart before his inner demons could overwhelm the best of him.
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Iftia: Royal Palace, Banquet Hall
• Arell •
Arell held onto Mother's hand as the guard announced their presence and the doors ahead of them were pushed opened. Bright light seeped from within and he stared in awe at the vastness and extravagance of the large banquet hall filled with people that had turned to look at them. His little heart thumped nervously and he remained unmoved even when Mother and Father took a step ahead.
Mother turned around and looked towards him. Smiling kindly, she asked, "What's wrong, mea lux?"
Arell shook his head but his grip tightened on her hand as his feet were reluctant to move. Then, Father turned around and picked him up in his hold. Father was tall and being held in his arm gave him a clearer view of the banquet hall, intensifying the nervousness he felt. A large hand smoothed through his hair and Father comforted, "Arell, it's okay. You don't have to care about everyone else."
Feeling slightly better, the child folded his arms around his father's neck and looked towards his mother. They entered the banquet hall together and he peered at the numerous pairs of eyes that followed them as they moved into the hall. Eventually, they stopped before the King and Queen. Father placed him down and bowed to give his greetings. Arell simply stared, feeling foreign and apprehensive by the King's scrutiny on him. The child tensed but felt his father's reassuring hand on the back of his head.
"Arell, please greet His and Her Majesty," Father mentioned, though with a hardened tone.
"Greetings to His and Her Majesty of Iftia." Arell placed his right hand across his left chest and bowed in the manner that Tristan had taught him during their etiquette lessons.
"Please rise," The King smiled, seemingly genuine in his happiness. When Arell turned to look at the Queen, he quickly recognised her to be the woman who entered Indira's nursery the other day — the bad woman that Aunt Naailah had warned him against.
Arell shifted uncomfortably under her piercing stare and the smirk on her face had caused a wave of unease to ripple within him. The child bit on his lower lip and closed his fingers together into tight fists, determined to not falter under her pressuring gaze.
"Your pet cat didn't follow you today, Arell?" The Queen laughed, but there was no hint of humour in her tone.
A sudden temper rose in him when he wanted to retort to her mock at Thunder. However, Mother shook her head slightly at him and moved ahead of him protectively. They walked towards their seats and settled down.
Arell couldn't get into the celebratory mood despite the cheery laughter and ongoing magnificent performances which filled the room with a joyous atmosphere. He realised that neither of his parents was also enthusiastic enough to be celebrating the King's birthday and occasionally when he turned, he always caught the Queen eyeing him. The child sat closer in between his parents in his own helpless attempt to seek protection. He squeezed his eyes shut and constantly remembered Aunt Naailah's words.
Arell must stay far far away from the bad person.
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Iftia: In the Woods Behind Royal Palace
• Thunder •
The black panther darted into the darkness ahead of him and threaded through the woods stealthily. His eyes stayed locked on his prey, never letting it out of his sight. Each step he took left a fresh-crisp paw print in the snow and he slowly followed behind the stray deer as it grazed on a small patch of grass that had grown beyond the thick layer of white powered snow. He enjoyed the chase and the knowledge that his prey would never expect him to lurk within the shadows.
Thunder may have been too focused on his target that he didn't realise an obstacle in his path until his foreleg was impeded by a hindrance ahead. Annoyed, he glanced down and realised something amiss. He studied the huge pile of snow and sniffed against it.
Stretching his back and transformed into his human form, his hands fumbled to brush away the thick layer of snow. Underneath it revealed a small panther cub — lifeless, cold and the bed of snow was soaked in crimson. A curse left his lips and he carefully moved its head to see a deep bite mark on its neck, nearly decapitating it.
"Darned it," Thunder swore, unsettled by all that he witnessed.
Hugging the cub closer to him, he chanted a string of incants and the small body in his hold pulverised into dark specks of dust. They eventually merged together to form a small crystal. Thunder stared at a faint glint of light that floated up and mumbled, "Ite ad locum beatus, child."
(Translate: Go to a happy place, child.)
His fingers gripped tightly onto the crystal and he returned to Lyx immediately. A trickle of fear curled its way into his heart and he continued to curse under his breath. He needed answers in almost desperation, answers to why the child had appeared in the woods behind the Royal Palace.
For all he knew, therianthropes like his kind had shied away from humans for the longest time. Other than himself, there should never be another within the visibility of this realm. Even when he swore that he would never meddle in the matters of his kind, he couldn't let this matter slip. The poor innocent child who met its brutal death reminded him of himself and it was also the manner that the child was murdered which caused dread to grow in him.
He recognised the obnoxious strikes of silver that ran across the obsidian crystal formed from the child's body. When therianthropes die, they reduce into crystals. If they were murdered, the mark of their murderers would be engraved upon. These were the same silver that remained in his parents' crystals when they passed, and there was only one kind of beings in this entire realm that could leave traces of silver.
Thunder sighed as he looked down once again on the crystal in his hand — a silent declaration of an arriving hailstorm.
War is coming.
※
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it wasn't just a simple feud between humans.
rise and rise again
until lambs become lions
rattle the stars
shake the earth
choke on the ashes
of all dreams burned
and for all that's owed
it would be paid for
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