Author: ViktorNikiforovKearsley

"Yuratchkaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" called King Viktor, leaning back on his throne happily. He smiled, looking at his husband, King Yuuri, who held his hand tightly. Their son, his bright blond hair messy as ever, bounded into the room.

"Ihlk! Stop being so emotional all the time!" Yurachka groaned, stomping into the room. His feathery wings dragged on the floor behind him, splotched with mud and pebbles. Viktor gasped, the over exaggerated sound echoing around the room.

"My, Yuri, you're so dirty!" he said, putting his hand up to his mouth. Yuuri started laughing.

"Yeah, Yuri, I think you've got a little something there." He motioned emphatically, describing the dirt as 'all over'. Yuri groaned and rolled his eyes, saying,

"See you two geezers later." He stalked towards the far hall, intending to take a bath, but Yuuri stopped him.

"Viktor, you have to tell him," he muttered nearly incomprehensibly, bending his head towards Viktor's ear. Viktor looked confused.

"Ehh? About what?" Now it was Yuuri's turn to roll his eyes.

"The mission. In order to ascertain our agreement for diplomacy with the Asimenian Republic remains sound," Yuuri whispered. Viktor's normally joyful face slipped, revealing a sadness Yuri had never seen before. He bowed his head, muttering,

"Yurachka, please come back over here." Yuri walked over, his eyes sparkling with worry. When Viktor looked at him, it was with such a terrible look of loss that it nearly knocked Yuri over. He stumbled, saying,

"Papa?" Viktor had tears in his eyes.

"The King of Asimenio has requested your presence, but has denied our request to travel with you..." Viktor gulped, and Yuuri laid his hand upon Viktor's shoulder reassuringly.

"You are going to have to go without us. I'm sending you with Sir Nishigori and Sir Crispino to meet with the King. They will do most of the talking; you are just there as a show of our wish for peace, and for face. I pray that you return safely. Now, please, go, my son." Yuri rushed forward and embraced his fathers tightly, muttering,

"I will not fail."

"Please don't?" whispered Viktor informally into Yuri's ear, laughing lightly. He smiled wanly, pulling away and leaving Yuri to hug Yuuri. Viktor and Yuuri shared one last desperate look with their son before he was escorted to his room to pack for his long, reviled journey.

Four Days Later: The Gates of Asimenio Castle.

"Prince Yuratchka, please hurry. We must be there before nightfall. I have run out of arrows for hunting, and there is very little kindling for fires. Please," asked Sir Nishigori lightly. He smiled hopefully at Yuri, who struggled to pick up the pace. Sir Crispino, a young night recently inducted into the order, was falling behind, and Yuri attempted to help him keep up with Nishigori. The last three days on the water had left them hungry for small forager animals throughout the forest, and in his haste to catch one, Nishigori had lost nearly all of his arrows. The rest were broken when they encountered a bear the night before. Yuri still wasn't over the fright that had caused him.

"Crispino's being slow," whined Yuri, trying to push him forwards.

"Come on, Crispino, we're nearly there. See? That's the gate," Yuri said, moving around beside him. Yuuri shook him, but Crispino didn't seem to register anything. Even once they reached the bridge overlooking the Grand Moat. Yuri began to worry for him, and figured they would need to get him a doctor once he was inside. He could have some sort of illness.

"Please, allow us entry!" shouted Yuri towards the doors. "My friend will not speak, and I am worried for his safety. Please send down a doctor!" he added, yet the doors remained closed.

"I beg of you! Please let us in!" Yuri yelled again, his voice raising in octave. He gripped his friend's shoulders, lifting him below the wings. Crispino would not stand, and Nishigori rushed over, aiding Yuri in supporting him.

"Please, I think he's sick!"

"Then let's put him out of his misery," said a voice behind him, directly before an ebony arrow struck Crispino through the heart. Golden blood stained the front of his uniform as he slumped to the floor, dead.

"NOO!" screeched Yuri, turning and glaring at the man who must have been the Asimenian King. Yuri hissed violently, pulling twin blades from their perch across his back.

"You will pay for this," he growled.

"From you, a mere child? Hah," he laughed, pointing and looking at Yuri's other guard.

"Kill him."

A volley of arrows struck Nishigori, and he did not have a chance. He was dead in seconds, his blood seeping over the cracked stone bridge.

"Wh-why?" moaned Yuri, his blades slumping down. He ran to Nishigori, trying in vain to wake him up, but nearly a dozen arrows stuck out of his chest. Both he and Crispino were dead.

"Why, my young child, I'm surprised the King—or shall I say Kings—let you come. They are daft to believe that I would do anything but hold you for ransom. Or... will I?" He grinned evilly at Yuri, who's eyes glowed with a look of absolute and unrequited hatred. Yuri held his swords, their blades burning with red fire.

"You will regret this, King Leroy," Yuri said menacingly, his voice wobbling with anger. He glowered at the King, raising his blades and screaming with hatred.

"You will..." A dart hit Yuri right above the collarbone, injecting a sort of vile liquid into Yuri's golden bloodstream, and he stopped.

"'Neraida-Dolofonos', or Faerie-Killer. It only affects Faeries because of the heightened calcium content in your blood. The same calcium that previously made you almost invincible now only serves to quicken your demise," the King remarked calmly. Yuri collapsed to the ground, gasping and writhing in agony.

"Why..." he whispered, clutching his stomach and pulling the dart from his chest. He gasped at the relief, but it was short lived.

"Get him." Three uniformed guards grabbed Yuri, hitting and beating him. It didn't matter that Yuri was only a child; they were accustomed to dealing with children even younger than him. They beat him unconscious and dragged him to a cell in the dungeons, beating and harming him as they went.

Yuri awoke to the sound of scraping down the hall and King Leroy's voice, light and excited. Yuri could feel pain all over his body; he'd been cut in millions of places. Many of them were fading into scars at this point because of Faerie's remarkable healing abilities, but he still hurt extraordinarily badly. He heard crying down the hall; it sounded like another child, likely only a few years older than himself. Yuri screamed for help, but his throat was raw and body was torn; he couldn't do much more than screech.

The man that had opened his cage looked momentarily stunned by his age; he figured maybe this man wasn't used to dealing with people this young. He attempted to give the man a harsh glare but it only came out as a look of utter and complete pain. The man shook off his discomfort, grabbing Yuri and tugging him down the hall, despite his emphatic protests. The man tugged Yuri into a moderately small room, save for the ultra-high ceilings. Yuri wondered why they were so high, then realized he truly did not want to know.

The floors were rough, cracked stone, likely from blades and extended use. He shivered to think of what kind of things were done in this sparse, dimly lit room. Yuri struggled hard, trying to free his hands. He tried to call on his elemental powers; those that had been passed down from generation to generation in his family. He mumbled an incomprehensible slur of divine words, closing his eyes, but then an inexplicable pain shot through his body.

Yuri opened his eyes, trying to focus on the walls through his shock of blinding pain. He noticed that they weren't the usual, traditional stone; rather, a mix of stone and another seemingly mysterious substance.

It didn't remain unknown for long.

"Ob-Obsidian..." he mumbled, shaking on the stone floor where the man had dropped him. He knew of the evil substance but had never seen any before. He figured it was because he wasn't allowed in the dungeons at home, where it was necessary; everyone had magic there.

The reason it was used in magic-containing communities was because it was the only substance unearthed that could hinder magic-bearers from using their magic. In non-magic using communities, it was a denotation of power; to prove they could control magic wielders. Yuri detested the substance, for obvious reasons. As he shook on the floor, he thought of the powerful wizards who could surpass obsidian, like Phichit Chulanont.

Phichit was the king of Chryso Aima eons before; he'd won a battle against the prior king and took his place. During the siege of an ancient country called America, Phichit was caught and tortured by the enemy. A circlet of the purest and blackest ebony was fixed about his neck by the humans to control him, but when they killed his eldest son, he was able to break free of the powerful stone and save the rest of his family from death.

Yuri wished he'd had that power, but unfortunately, he was too young to ascertain how powerful he'd be. Even his fathers, Yuuri and Viktor, didn't know.

Thinking about his fathers saddened Yuri immensely, and he felt the tears bleed from beneath his closed eyelids as he cried silently. The sound of stomping feet shifted his focus, however, and so did the feet that kicked him and blades that cut him. He screeched, wrapping his arms around himself. He would have done so with his wings if the guards hadn't grabbed them and held them up in the stuffy underground air, leaving Yuri's stripped body for the whole company to see. A young man, obviously the one who had been crying earlier, stood before him, tears running down his cheeks.

The man, probably around fifteen years old, was clothed in a dark soldier's uniform; a navy blue cape over solid black armor. The crest that held his cape together and his belt buckle contained the same insignia as the rest, save for an unusual crest upon his scaled metal gauntlets. However, very few in Asimenio or the surrounding countries didn't know what that crest meant.

He was the Prince.

Although he was curious why the Prince was down here, what Yuri really wanted to know was why the man was crying. The Prince's deep brown eyes were red, glistening with unshed tears. He held his hands out, and Yuri believed that if he hadn't been held in place by the guards, he would have helped him. His hair was messy; like he'd fought someone. Yuri smirked inwardly, seeing the numerous scratches all over the guards' faces and arms. It wouldn't take a genius to see who had made those.

"Otabek, you have been told our history, but not all of it." Ah, so the Princeling's name is Otabek Yuri thought, shaking with pain. He heard the King tell the story of the blade he had just shoved into Otabek's arms, and a terrible one it was. As soon as King Leroy said the words cut and wings, Yuri knew something was frightfully wrong.

"NO! NO, I'll never do that! Let me go!" Yuri could almost sense Otabek's fear, the terror and disgust obvious in his facial features angering the King. Leroy dragged him closer to Yuri, who's body shied away from the King against his will. Leroy brought the blade closer to Yuri, his hand wrapped around Otabek's shaking wrists. Otabek was horrified; Yuri was thankful for this. He hoped that Otabek wouldn't hurt him.

"My blood is already silver!" Yuri gasped, looking at the boy.

A Sliverbane? At his age? Yuri was terrified; one could only become a Sliverbane by removing a Faerie's wings and bathing your hands in their blood.

Yuri choked.

They were going to cut his wings off.

Yuri screamed, the theory impossible in his mind. He looked at Otabek, begging for his freedom. Yuri figured the man wouldn't be able to do it; the terrified look on his face proved as much.

"You Faerie filth, tell my son your name," growled King Leroy, glaring at Yuri hatefully.

"I *gasp* I am..." He started, doubling over from the King's sudden, harsh kicks.

"I am prince Yuratchka, heir to the throne of—of Chryso Aima... Ahhg!" Yuri couldn't finish his sentence, the pain being too much. He watched the realization dawn on Otabek that Yuri was his equal. Four years younger, maybe, but nonetheless his equal.

The king issued a command, pointing at Yuri's wings. He felt them stretch high above him. Yuri moaned in protest, feeling their broken angles twist and bend.

"If you don't do this, I will slit your throat," the King threatened, and he saw Otabek flinch. He reached out with the blade.

"CUT THEM NOW!"

"Nooo... pleeaassee..." Yuri felt the petrifying blade near his wings.

And felt the strongest and most horrifying pain he'd ever felt in his life. Yuri screamed, pain blurring his vision and causing his arms to go slack. When Yuri rolled over, trying to save his wings form total eradication, Yuri felt Otabek break through the last sinew.

Yuri glanced over to the stone floor beside him where his wings lay, tears mingling with the gold blood slathered all over the floor. Otabek was shoved down into the pool, and Yuri suddenly felt no pain.

Yuri was a young child again, playing about, but this time he didn't have wings. He had short, black hair and the Prince's crest on his wrist. Yuri passed through this boy's entire life up until that moment with the knife.

Otabek.

Yuri awoke, opening his eyes slightly. The pain returned full force, and Yuri passed out. Just before he did, however, he saw Otabek's face change.

"Yuri?" Yuri sucked in a breath, his eyes rolling back up into his head as he lost consciousness.

When Yuri awoke the next day, he was forced into an even smaller cage than he'd had before, tight canvas wrapped like a tourniquet around his chest. He felt little pain, most of it having disappeared with his quick healing.

The only thing that was missing was the comforting weight of his large, feathered wings.

Yuri wrapped his arms around himself, crying glistening tears onto the stone floor.

Yuri glanced down the dark passage leading out of the dungeons, knowing he would probably not see his fathers, Yuuri and Viktor, for many years.

He wished they could finally know how much he truly loved them.