Disclaimer- I do not own these characters. They are the ideas of Hidekaz-sama.
As a note, before I start into my normal AN, I want to give a huge thank you to my beta! I have a beta now! WOOT!
CrypticButterfly- You are pure awesomeness!
Hello! So my inspiration on my A Month has died. I know, it's tragic and everyone loved that story, but after regaining myself from three weeks of forced starvation and bleary headedness, honestly I have no idea where I was planning to go with that story. I think half of it was written in a delirium, as I honestly don't remember writing a lot of it. But while looking over my other stories, trying to find the inspiration, I realized something.
I enjoy writing fantasy stories with faeries and magic more than modern, current day realism. I'll take dragons and spellbooks over doctors and cell phones any day.
And while looking over By His Side, I realized that in my attempt to write it as quickly as possible, I failed drastically on many of the points I'd intended to make, honestly leaving half of the story, where half of those random storyline moments jumped in, completely out. I'd intended another half to the story, revolving around Ice and her Nordic crew sailing around. It's too late to resume it now, and honestly I'm half tempted to take it down. It's horrible and very poorly written and thought out.
So, I'm rewriting it.
There will be major differences. There will be major, insanely different directions taken, and much more adventure, instead of schools and basics, I'll cover more of the world itself, and the magic won't turn sci-fi half way through... Good god, I'm so sorry about that...
I hope you enjoy this, the re-written, BETTER and drastically more edited story as my apology.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you...
Whisper
Arthur lived alone. The few people from the nearby village despised him for his magical talents, claiming everything from deaths to loves gone wrong to be his will. They claimed he cursed anyone who crossed him. Arthur cared little for the village, selling herbs to the apothecary and using the money for food and other necessities, but he stayed away as much as possible. He lived a lonely life, but one he discovered wasn't that bad. He was barely old enough to care for himself, but he knew he would manage. His parents had died on his eighth birthday, and now at sixteen he was able to fend well for himself. His house wasn't too big, but it was warm and comfortable.
One day after the gardens had been tended, as well as the patchwork that needed done on the roof, Arthur sat reading a book about unicorns and sprites by sunlight. Nothing lifted his spirits like a good book.
He read well past sunset, lit the fireplace and laid on his stomach on the wooden floor, his eyes tracing the images on one page with a dreamy smile. The first kiss in every story seemed to make his heart patter in his chest. He knew he'd never feel that sensation, the care and adoration they explained in the books, for who would ever love someone like him? Even he would admit he was difficult. He was stubborn and a bit egocentric, not nearly as tall as other boys his own age. He'd been told a few times he resembled a woman from the back, if the hair was ignored. He sighed, his eyes shifting to the darker blond fringe that hung just in his line of sight. He'd need another haircut soon. Large green eyes shifted back down to the book as a soft sound made its way from his throat and he nuzzled farther into his blankets to continue to the next chapter. Arthur eventually fell asleep halfway through chapter eight, wrapped in blankets and with a soft smile on his face.
His dreams that night were filled with smoke. It wasn't a fog or a haze, but thick black smoke. He choked as he stumbled, trying to find his way forward, trying to progress, to escape, but his hands never caught on anything, his feet only blindly tripping forward as he felt his chest constrict in the darkness around him. He finally fell to his stomach, his head a bit lower which allowed him to get enough breath to scream out. He heard footsteps before him and looked up, but the smoke seemed to get worse. Instead of salvation, he noticed a faint glow, seeming almost darker than the dense smoke. Before he passed out from lack of oxygen, he noticed the smoke before him start to pull away, a shine filtering through it, giving it a sick purple tone. His eyes glanced forward, hopeful as the smoke started to move, shifting away from whatever was coming through, but he woke with a start just before he could see what had come towards him.
He jumped from his place on the floor, scrambling back, gasping for air as his head whipped around, realizing there was no smoke, no fire, no burning or purple glows. He glanced over, seeing one of his few friends, a flying mint green bunny, smile at him.
"There's a storm coming in," it spoke softly, watching his eyes shift and widen.
"It's not a real storm, is it?"he asked, his voice shaking and the rabbit nodded. "What kind of storm would make me see images like that?"
"It's the wind of change coming to you." The small, squeaky voice caused a shuddered sigh as a chill he couldn't shake ran through Arthur's body.
"Do you know anything about it? I couldn't see anything through the smoke," Arthur asked, now terrified of what fate had in store and the bunny giggled and flew around him, the childish display lifting his spirits slightly.
"I can't see it at all, but I know the smell well." The bunny watched as Arthur's shoulders dropped. "It's the smell of death, but it's not yours, at least not yet." He watched as the human before him stood straight, surprised and a little terrified of what was to come.
Prophetic dreams didn't happen often. Only a few had happened to Arthur in his life, and he understood three things about them. What he saw would happen, no matter what he tried to change. The dreams were warnings, and granted the knowledge of signs to watch out for in the future. The third understanding was the one Arthur hated the most. Every time he'd dreamed of the future it was hidden in layers of misunderstanding. The first time he saw the future Arthur wasn't sure what the dream had meant til he was standing at his parents' tombstones a week later.
After such a dream, Arthur shifted nervously as he tended his garden and walked through town, a bundle of camphor and sage in his basket as he made his way to the apothecary. He watched the village nervously, not sure if he'd be mentally able to handle the heckling and possible attacks of the teenage boys of the village. Normally he could escape them, even at half the size of the boys his own age, but with his nerves he was half afraid he'd simply fall on his face if he panicked.
"Arthur! My best seller! What have you for me today?" Arthur couldn't help but smile as he walked in, seeing his only real friend in the village. Angel, the apothecary owner had taken him under his wing as a child and taught him everything he knew about herbs and gardening, which had honestly saved his life after the death of his parents. Arthur breathed in the familiar scent of the herbs that sat around the small shop in the glass jars that lined every shelf, covering every wall.
"Camphor and sage. There's a small bundle of tea leaves as well, but I figured that to be a little more of a peace offering than a sale." Arthur smiled as the old man grinned, walking slowly towards the counter.
"We were nearly out of camphor, so that's good timing. The sage..." Angel turned, seeing the bottle nearly halfway down and smiled. "Well, that works as well." He turned back to Arthur who lifted the basket and pulled out the two bundles wrapped carefully in a soft white cloth, and handed the man a small bottle. He lifted it, shaking the contents and shifting thick glasses up a thin nose. "Pineapple mint, lemon mint and... are those raspberries?" He looked down with wide eyes and Arthur nodded, a grin coming to his face.
"I made it on accident, but when I brewed it the taste was amazing. I figured you'd enjoy the adventure." He watched as the older man turned nearly giddy, glancing over to his water pot and smiled at the realization that steam was starting to come from the spout.
"Your timing is perfect all over, Arthur." He let out a sound that could only be described as a giggle as Arthur chuckled, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lip.
"I'm glad to hear, Angel." He smiled as he looked over the bundles before him and the older man lifted a pouch from his pocket, sitting it on the counter before lifting the packages.
He carefully weighed them in his hands before nodding. "Is fifteen alright for them both?"
"That's fine. I'm only after milk and honey today. Maybe that'll afford me a small luxury." He wondered what to buy as he watched the golden coins be laid on the counter before him. He noticed a slight smoke fill the air and his head shot around, his eyes wide, looking around him to realize it was only from the fireplace where the water boiled, the old man watching him with concern.
"What's wrong?" Angel asked, watching as Arthur started to shiver, the memory of his dreams returning full force.
"I had a bit of a bad dream last night. Smoke filled the city, and there was a purple glow. It was the oddest thing." He frowned and the old man's eyebrows shifted, his eyes narrowing at the boy before him.
"If something glows purple, you know it's toxic. Be wary of such things." He watched with tightly guarded caution as Arthur nodded.
"And you as well. If you see smoke, try to hide. Don't blindly run away from it. You never know what you'll find outside of it." Arthur spoke a bit cryptically, but with the sudden worry that was so easily seen on Angle's face, he knew that the dream hadn't just come to him.
"Smoke suffocates, you know. If faced with suffocation or toxicity, if those are but my only options, you know I'll choose toxicity. Poison can be cured, but suffocation isn't as easy to fix." He watched as Arthur nodded, understanding.
"There's one problem with this theory." Arthur sighed, leaning forward. "I think the purple glow was a representation, not an actual glow. I think it's a person, and as venomous as they may be, I see them killing a lot faster than the smoke. At least you can hide beneath smoke. It's not so easy to escape a blade." He watched as the old man stared, a bit surprised. It startled Arthur when a moment later the old man started laughing.
"I'd prefer a quick death than suffocation! What a horrible way to go! A blade at least offers a quick end, while smoke is long and drawn out. I understood the instant I saw it, Arthur. Have more faith in a wise old man!" He laughed as Arthur turned red in embarrassment. Angel let his joy fall, a more resigned feeling coming to him as he glanced up, showing his acceptance of what was to come.
"When this comes to be, I will live no longer. I will die, but you shall be given a chance. You will be able to counteract the poison. The question is, will you be able to discover how?" He asked as Arthur's eyebrow lifted, now confused, but intrigued.
"Dealing with people isn't exactly my specialty. If forced to try and heal someone's volatility, I'll probably doom another city with my actions." Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms as if to defend himself from the thought, while Angel covered his mouth, attempting to hide his amusement at the antics.
"You're more kind and caring than you think, little Arthur. I'd like to remind you, as one of the three elders of the city, you're probably the closest friend I have. You're the only one who can converse with me and not make me feel like I'm surrounded by idiocy sometimes, as well." He spoke in a gentle tone and watched as a subtle pride shifted over Arthur's face. Angel watched the boy with a soft smile before reaching out to pat his hair. "You're young, and not yet understanding of your capabilities. I would have loved to see you grow older, but it looks like tonight is my time."
"Tonight?!" Arthur stared and Angel let out a soft breath before letting out a soft sound of affirmation. Arthur swallowed hard, horrified. "I thought it would be eventually! Not so soon!" He looked around and shook his head, trying to calm himself. "In that case, I guess I don't need the honey that much. I already have a bottle, it's just halfway gone. Maybe I should just... blow all of this on beef. Spend my night contented and joyously." He stared at the counter, now nearly glaring at the money before him.
"Yes, that would be for the best. After all, in the situation you're to fall into, money will do you little good." He said as Arthur's eyes shifted carefully back to his.
"Is there anything you can tell me? Anything that may prove helpful in the oncoming situation?" The other could see hope in his eyes, but they both knew the rules. Situations with seeing the future had to be handled carefully, or they could shift, and whatever tragedy had been dreamed would grow worse, but sometimes clues or hints could be shared.
"His name. You will know him when you see him. His name is Ivan, and he's nothing like you'll think. Be wary, he is harsh and he is strong, but he has reason and ability. Try to remember, and try to understand, and eventually forgive." He watched as Arthur stared, not sure if the words were calming or more terrifying. It took Arthur a moment for his emotions to still, and he glanced down towards the counter, his hands gripping nervously to his biceps as his crossed arms tried to hide their shaking.
"Sometimes I wish I could see as clearly and as far as you, old friend." Arthur nearly whispered, and Angel laughed before shaking his head, a gentle understanding in his voice.
"Some things require practice and patience, both things you're too young to have honestly obtained. You'll see far, more things than I ever dreamed of, and sooner than you think. Just spend the day making sure you remember this time well enough. It'll all be gone and forgotten in the morrow." He said as Arthur stared, tears shining in his eyes, though he wouldn't cry.
He refused.
"I should take a memento to my parents, then." He sighed as he scooped the money from the counter. "I'll be back to have tea with you before nightfall." He turned and the man shook his head.
"Don't come into town too late. Go to your home. You'll be safer there for tad longer." The old man smiled and Arthur frowned, but nodded.
"In that case, I guess this is goodbye." Arthur stared, trying to burn the image of his friend into his memory as the old man offered a simple smile, trying to give him something good to remember.
"It is, but I was intended to die tonight anyway. A heart attack, or some such rubbish. At least I get to go out with a bang, right?" He cackled as Arthur chuckled at the excitement that showed.
Without another word, Arthur left the Apothecary and turned, heading to the butcher's shop down the street.
He was able to buy a good amount of beef, and somehow was able to get his hands on a few bottles of ale before heading home. He threw everything together for beef stew and walked back into town, knowing the stew would take a while, picking a few herbs and flowers from his garden.
An orchid, a branch of sage and a sunflower were laid on each of his parents' headstones. He looked them both over, taking out his handkerchief and neatly polishing the stone before he turned back to them. "Mother, Father, tonight I leave you. I don't know why, or for what, but I will never forget you. Remember that I'm not heading away on purpose. I'll stop leaving gifts, but not because I won't love you any more. All the same, I would like you to remember me as well." He reached out, sliding a hand over the corner of each of the stones and sighed, closing his eyes.
For a second, he remembered their faces. Years had passed since he actually remembered what they looked like. It startled him and he stared in surprise, tears coming to his eyes as he let out a shuddered sigh, feeling maybe this was their gift to him. One final glimpse at a life long forgotten.
He stood and walked home, eating before laying before the fire, reading his favorite book and drinking his ale, letting his head spin before finally passing out into his book.
He woke to his door slamming shut and jumped up, staring at two of the teenagers from town who commonly lobbed rot and names at him and he sat, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
"Pardon, what are you doing in my house?" He asked, the haze from the ale still spinning his thoughts into an odd combination of haze and comfort.
"Please! Don't curse us! It was the only place we knew of to hide!" One of them nearly screamed and Arthur winced, shaking his head.
"You slammed my door and started yelling. If you're hiding, you're doing a poor job. Shut up, you rubbish whelp." He grumbled as he stood and peered out his window, seeing the city, which was a bit over a kilometer away, engulfed in flames. His eyes widened as he turned to the boys in terror and let out a ragged breath. "Come. Follow me."
He turned, running to the back of the house, through his bedroom, and opened his window, looking around. When he didn't see anyone, he turned to the boys. "Run to the treeline." He slipped a piece of paper from his pocket and ripped it in half, trying to push a single spell into it, his concentration still lacking from the ale. Maybe that hadn't been his best idea...
The boys heard his chant, heard the words he spoke as he held the paper before himself and slowly disappeared. He heard them gasp as he disappeared and looked up, seeing them both staring blankly around, wide eyed. "Hold out your hands." They did as was told and he slid each half of the paper into them quickly. "Go to the treeline. Run and hide. In the morning, when everyone is gone, tear the papers in half to make yourself visible again. Protect those papers with your life until you're sure you're alone." He spoke as he released the papers and the boys before him disappeared. He heard them each clamor up through the window and heard their steps as they started to run.
Arthur grasped another sheet of paper and started chanting before he heard a scream and looked up, seeing blood splattered across the yard. One body became visible as the paper that had been clutched to his chest was shot through. Arthur prayed the other kept running, only to see more blood splatter seconds later. He stared, wide eyed as a group of men walked out from the woods, one of them reaching down to tear the paper from the other boy's hands, looking as the body became visible beneath him. Arthur barely noticed the low rumble from behind as he stared at the boys. The men walking up, one elbowing the other, pointing Arthur out as he stepped back. He hid behind the wall and fell to the floor, scooting back in hopes they wouldn't shoot through the wall at him. He knew he needed to escape and glanced over, noticing the smoke coming in from the living room and gasped, realizing this was how the dream had started.
This is where he found that toxicity.
He crawled over, feeling the door, the heat on the other side too strong to chance and looked around, unable to think for a moment.
He needed a way out. He grasped a blanket that laid on his bed and threw it over himself. If ever there was a time for the stupidity of bravery, it was now. He gasped as he grasped the door handle with the blanket covering his hand and body and took off running, heading right through the living room. He ran out and dropped the blanket, turning to see his house, already partially reduced to cinder as he stood still, stunned for a moment before he turned and ran.
Staying still would end him out no better than the last two.
He ran as fast as he could, finally finding himself halfway to the village and turned, running down a roadway that lead towards the next village over. The village wasn't too far away, but hopefully far enough that he would be safe there.
He ran, heading towards the treeline, knowing it would mean his safety, when he noticed the smoke in the distance.
They'd burned that village as well, which meant they were probably on this road. He growled in exasperation as he continued his run and decided to climb up into a tree. Maybe if he was quiet, he'd be passed by. He struggled a bit to get through the thicket of the wood floor, and stared up into the tree, grasping the closest branch just as an arrow landed beside his hand. He yelped and dropped to the floor, hoping to hide in the thicket as another arrow landed before him. He stilled, seeing the twinkling of fire between the branches. He stared, knowing he'd have to stand now.
No, he could suffocate the fire instead. He closed his eyes as he chanted and started the wood of the forest floor quickly growing over the fire, before he crawled away quickly. He didn't have the time to make sure the fire was out, which ended with horrible results.
Soon after, the fire had started to spread. Arthur realized that there was some sort of magic in the fire that made it unquenchable and terribly quick to spread, but at least it was between him and whoever had shot the arrow.
He finally made it out and stilled, seeing the smoke from behind him blow forward, surrounding him. He couldn't go any further. Though he couldn't see it, he could feel the people who surrounded him. He swallowed hard and sighed, realizing this was the moment the dream had ended at.
"Ivan, I presume?" He asked into the smoke, and cringed as the a deep voice with a thick accent met his ears, though he still had no face to place with it.
"How do you know my name?" He heard it boom, actually causing the air around him to vibrate. It made the smoke shift around him in a way that nearly caused Arthur to run back into the fire, but he did step back.
"How do you think?" He asked, steeling his nerves. His city was gone. Nothing was left, the smell of blood on the wind was sensed over the smoke of the fire for a split second.
"Come here, child. Let me see you." Ivan growled and Arthur took a deep breath, steadying himself before raising his head high and walking forward, finally coming face to face with the man.
Ivan was huge. His ashen hair whipped in the wind from the fire, his eyes just as deadly as the blazes around them. His clothes were leather, dark brown pants and boots, his shirt a light tan without sleeves, showing the muscle in his arms. Arthur understood what the people who were here did. He understood they may be different from what he was used to, but this beast before him shook him to the core. He noticed the violet of his eyes and stared, unable to hide his surprise.
"It wasn't poison..." he whispered, realizing what the color of his dreams meant. "How are you not a poison?!" he yelled out, his eyes wide, panic taking over his thoughts as he stared into the face before him. A square jaw and large nose, thick lips and a thick wrap around his throat.
"I think his mind flew. He must be panicked too much to think," one of the men beside Ivan mumbled, long red hair brushing over red eyes, a single fang sticking through the side of his mouth.
"No, it's not that." Ivan stared at the defiant eyes that glared back, trying to grasp the situation.
The color he'd seen in his dream wasn't a poison, or a toxicity of the other man's mind. The purple was a show of a physical trait. He'd never had that happen before. Arthur took a calming breath, his eyes locked with the man before him as he finally felt his nerves steady. "Why have you attacked this village?" Arthur demanded, his eyes narrowing at Ivan's heated gaze. He stood tall, his fists clenched at his sides as a few of the other men chuckled.
"There's no need to answer you, child," a woman responded, her long ash blonde hair whipping in the breeze, wearing a dress that came half calf covering her with princess puffed sleeves and black shoes to contrast the dark blue of the dress, as well as the soft blue of her eyes. Arthur glanced around, realizing she was probably the most dangerous here, as she was the one covered from head to toe in blood, though the others had just a few drops over them.
"Consider it the final request of a dying man," Arthur crossed his arms and grumbled as he glanced around, seeing blood lust in the eyes of those around him. He wouldn't survive this after all...
"You're dying?" Ivan asked, looking him over with a skeptical eye.
"You've killed everyone else, or they're in the processes of their final breaths. Why would I be different? Just answer my question first. Why here?" Arthur asked with a little calm as his expression shifted. Horrified green eyes showed hope for answers as Ivan stared back with a smile playing at the corner of his lip.
"You have a fifteen second head start," Ivan spoke softly as he stepped to the side, the woman beside him glancing over with surprise at the comment. "Go."
Arthur didn't need another word and took off as quickly as he could.
He ran blindly, not even thinking about where he was going, just running ahead without a thought besides one word. Escape.
He was surprised to find himself coming to somewhere familiar and ran into the cemetery, heading right through the center before he heard sound and turned, seeing Angel seated between his parent's grave, a man quickly approaching with a sword drawn. Arthur didn't think, running with his shoulder first into the man's side, toppling him over. He grabbed the sword from the man's hands and started turning the blade to dig into the man's stomach before he let out a gurgled gasp and slowly slid to the ground, his eyes wide on the child before him. Arthur turned to Angel and shook his head.
"They're coming! Run!" he gasped out as another man rushed in, the one with the red hair he'd seen earlier. The redhead grasped Angel by the throat, his booted foot landing hard on one of the sunflowers Arthur had laid on his parent's graves earlier that day. Arthur let out a strangled cry as he ran forward, grasping the man's throat and pulled him back, trying to fight him away from the spot, forgetting the blade in his panic which uselessly rested over the man's shoulder in Arthur's grasp. The rest of the group came in, seeing their friend being choked by the child, an old man in the other's grasp. Ivan stepped forward, grabbing him and lifted him back, freeing their friend. He stumbled back, releasing Angel, as Arthur yelled.
"GET OFF OF THE SUNFLOWERS!" He screamed and Ivan glanced down, seeing the blossoms in the firelight and glanced up to his friend.
"Vladimir, step towards me," he mumbled and the other did, but nearly at a crawl, still gasping for air.
"I'm sorry," he spoke in a raspy tone. "His power... strong." Arthur looked up, seeing Angel step back with wide eyes as the girl from earlier lifted her hand at a speed Arthur didn't even know was possible. The old man crumpled to the floor, the handle of a blade sticking out of his chest. Arthur let out a strangled yell, fighting to reach his friend.
"Remember, Arthur." Angel let out a wet wheeze as he looked up, their eyes connecting for the last time. "Ivan has reason. Learn to forgive. Try to understand, and your world will open." He slid to the floor, his eyes showing fatigue at the blood loss as Arthur stared, now near hysterics as he tried to reach his friend.
"You're a coward." Ivan glared at the boy in his hands. "Allow him a hero's death, don't cry like a baby." Ivan nearly growled before hearing a sobbed chant and turned in surprise a second too late. Ivan crumbled to the ground as Arthur sent a spell through his body. Ivan's hands barely caught him from falling on his face as Arthur ran to Angel's side, feeling for a pulse that was already gone. He sat, his eyes wide and his body shaking in rage and fear. He reached up and slowly slid his hand down Angel's face to close his eyes before he stood and turned to the group who watched on without a care. Of the five that had met him in the woods, only three of them were there, but another dozen or so had found them on the way. He stepped forward, a chant on his lips as a black cloak seemed to materialize over his shoulder, the hood falling over his eyes as a long, wooden staff appeared in his hand and the redhead gasped, staring.
"He's a wizard!" He ran forward, chanting in another language as Arthur started screaming out spells, his mind racing as he tried to string them together, but as he reached the last few words a hand clenched over his throat. He swung forward, hitting the man before him with the staff. Arthur's spells, which should have reduced Ivan to cinder, ricocheted hard, blowing up a large section of the woods, sending whole trees flying at them. Arthur's head shot up, seeing violet eyes drilling into his mind before the hand around his throat started to clench and Arthur gasped, feeling something trip in his mind as his consciousness started to fade.
Just as his eyes started to close he realized it was a sleep spell that the redhead had been chanting this whole time.
His cloak had helped to protect from the spell, but though he was conscious, he couldn't move or force his body to react, falling as helpless as a doll to the floor as Ivan released him. "He's still conscious. Your spell failed."
"Nu, it's him. He has a resistance to magic, and I'm willing to bet his cloak is a mirror or shield." The redhead stepped forward, careful to avoid the sunflowers as he reached down, tapping the cloak, but to his dismay it vanished, leaving Arthur alone.
Without his magic to keep it close, it went back into his hiding spot for it. Arthur whimpered when he realized that spot had been in the woods that were currently burning beside them.
"Let's kill him. I want to go home. It's too... quaint and open for me," the long haired woman grumbled as she looked around at the burning city.
"We'll return home immediately, but I don't think we'll kill this one." Ivan glared down at the boy who's eyes fought to keep open, shifting up the man before him. They were going to just let him go? "He's killed one of my men. Only three have died today, and he's the only one who wasn't able to defeat his attacker. This boy deserves a special kind of hell," Ivan grumbled as he reached down and lifted Arthur, throwing his body over a shoulder before turning and walking down the way. Arthur was able to look up, seeing the gravestones of his parents and Angel laying between them.
At least they wouldn't be alone.
As they walked through the town, people joining in the parade as they headed further and further towards the shore, Arthur was able to see the aftermath of the fight. Bodies littered the streets. Arthur heard a few cries and coos and tried to look around, eventually finding many of the ones who walked behind carrying babies with them and shook his head with tears in his eyes.
He wasn't sure of the fate of the children, but he knew it wouldn't be good. Slaves or sacrifices to some old god, most likely. He shook his head, finally grumbling loud enough Ivan could hear. "Don't... hurt... them," he was barely able to rasp out and Ivan turned to the one over his shoulder with a frown.
"Don't think you can tell me what to do, slave."
Arthur swallowed hard. So they were to be slaves. "Not them. Leave them alone..." He fought for the air to continue talking and Ivan turned, seeing the men and women behind them staring in curiosity as Ivan realized what he'd meant. He frowned, staring down at the man again before sighing.
"Those in your village seemed quite bothered with their own well being. These children were offered if we agreed to leave the adults alone, and that's why they deserved to die. These children are not to become slaves, only you." He spoke softly and Arthur swallowed hard.
"Then what?" he asked, unable to make complete sentences still, his lungs fighting to work over the strong muscle that dug into his chest from the other's back.
Ivan seemed to understand though and turned, heading further away. More of Ivan's men joined behind them as they walked.
"They will be our next generation. They will be raised to grow strong and capable, unlike most of the ones we've met here. Only you were able to attack without absolute failure," he spoke as he continued his walk.
As they came to the shore, Arthur realized it must be ships they were headed towards. He swallowed hard as they climbed into small boats before coming to a floating dock. Ships waited patiently, a plank leading up the side of each one.
As they climbed up, Arthur was able to see the others cooing and tickling the babies and comforting toddlers as they came aboard. The children seemed scared of the city they were leaving behind, instead of the pirates they were surrounded with. He watched with wonder, hoping Ivan would keep his word about the children. Arthur was taken into a large room on the back of the ship. He was handcuffed and his chain was laid over a hook that was lowered from the ceiling so his feet just barely touched the ground. Ivan stared at his new toy, a dark look coming over his face as he turned, heading towards a bed on the side of the room, covered in furs. The shutters were opened, allowing in a cold breeze that made Arthur shiver in the room.
Ivan laid down after watching out the window for a while. He laid back, resting his head on a thick bundle of fur, covering himself with another before turning to the boy with a dark smile. "Goodnight, slave."
"It's Arthur," he spoke softly, his head lulled down, his eyes finally unable to stay open any longer.
"Not anymore." Ivan chuckled as he closed his eyes, shifting into a comfortable sleep. Only mere seconds later, Arthur drifted off as well.
