So... I'll just pretend it didn't take me a month to post this chapter. It wouldn't be so sad if the editing process hadn't looked somewhat like this:
1. Change a few words.
2. Change them back.
3. Sometimes change them back again, sometimes not.
4. Add a line or two here and there the day before posting the chapter. Be really proud of actually having done something.
5. Look back at steps 1-3 and the last five weeks or so and headdesk.
In my defense, this chapter is about 2000 words longer than the last one, so it makes sense that it would need some extra attention! ...Right? (So a certain person won't be sending Ferris after me... right? Right!)
Please excuse the random fairy tale references in this one. I just couldn't resist.
...Not that I tried to.
Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Darkest Hour
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Tiir's ankle had gotten a lot better over night, and though it was still red and swollen, he wasn't limping nearly as obviously anymore. He felt that a bandage was no longer necessary, but the human insisted, and while the man had claimed that he had nothing to lose from talking back to him, Tiir wasn't going to push him.
They marched from dawn till dusk with only the occasional break for meals and the opportunity to take a few sips of water in peace, and the moon had just appeared on the horizon when they finally set foot on Salean soil. It was a country Tiir had only crossed through once before, and there was only so much he knew about it.
Not that he thought there was much to know. As far as he could tell, it was a fairly mediocre country in every way: located in the North, but barely and often associated with the Central Continent instead. Not so small that it would go down in a war easily, but nowhere near large enough to keep up with Geihlficlant or an unscathed Stohl for long in the case of conflict. It was a fairly wealthy nation, famous for its swift and fearless war horses, though on a battlefield dominated by magicians, they weren't much more than a symbol of prestige.
Salea's magic was average at best, but the country's old-fashioned ways were its greatest strength as well as its biggest weakness. It was said that they had poisons at their disposal other nations had only heard of in rumors, making them highly valued as a supplier of assassins, and much like was the case in Runa, which they apparently shared some history with, their monarch's authority was absolute, her decisions nearly beyond reproach – at the very least, it was assumed that no one in Salea would challenge their sovereign during a time of crisis or risk a civil war; though of course, humans were too unpredictable and their allegiances too fickle for anyone to be able to know for sure. As the country held up a strict policy of isolation and had few friends and no formal allies, it was considered backward and potentially hostile even by most humans.
All in all, it was the kind of place Gastark would already have trampled had they believed it to be of any strategic value. Still, it was only a matter of time.
When the camp was set up that night, it was with an air of anticipation. Clearly, the soldiers were all eager to return to their homes.
Their light-heartedness annoyed Tiir, who just felt apprehension.
However, he forgot about his worries for a moment when the prince, true to his word, fired magic at him under the watchful eye of the half-Gastark woman. Tiir had been mildly surprised to learn that he was a mage, but he supposed he should have guessed. Considering how fragile humans were, it made sense that a royal who went into battle would have been trained at least a little in that area. He wasn't a powerful or particularly skilled magician, but after such a long time without nourishment, that hardly mattered. Tiir enjoyed the thrill that always came with feeding, and the healing of his wounds was but a pleasant bonus.
It wasn't enough of a meal to fill him with power or even just to sate him, but it was enough to make him feel alive.
The human prince watched him, looking petrified, and Tiir stopped himself short of shooting him a predatory smile.
Remembering what a magnificently Bad Idea that would be and why, he deactivated the Iino Doue with some effort, ignoring the deep sense of dissatisfaction that came with doing so, and shutting off the part of him that told him to killdevourkillkillkill the inferior human.
He had expected all kinds of reactions, but of course, the peculiar prince had to defy them all.
Still gazing at him, the human said, "Red suits you."
It was Tiir's time to stare. "What?"
Breaking out of his daze, the prince shrugged. "It was the first thing that came to mind. Black hair, pale skin, red eyes – it's like... Snow White or something."
Tiir choked.
"...That was a really stupid comparison, wasn't it?"
"Yes." Obviously.
What was wrong with this human?
"I thought so. What would that make me, anyway? The Evil Queen?"
Tiir didn't bother to reply to that, but the female magician chose this point to speak up, "A dwarf."
The prince looked at her in silence for a moment. "If that was a jab at my height," he finally said, "let me point out that it is not me who is small, it is you who is a freaking giant."
"Being a head taller than average hardly makes one a giant."
"Well, neither does being a head shorter than average make one a dwarf!"
"I respectfully disagree."
"If you insist to keep using that phrase, at least have the modesty to replace the 'respectfully' with something that is less of a lie."
"As my Prince wishes: I contemptuously disagree. Now if you are done admiring your pet, Colonel Arsan humbly requests your presence."
"Arsan? Why?"
"I'm afraid you will have to ask him that yourself." The prince glanced at Tiir, and the woman added, "I shall look after it for you until you are done."
The man hesitated. "You're not going to test some freaky new kind of poison on him, are you?"
The woman rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not going to test 'some freaky new kind of poison' on it. You'll get your pet back in one piece."
"Would you stop calling him that?"
"What else would you have me call it? 'Snow White'?"
"...You won't ever let me live that down, will you?"
"No, I won't. Now shoo, dwarf, to your mines."
"I'm sure there is a law somewhere against saying that to the Crown Prince."
"Probably, but I'm the Wicked Witch. The law trembles before my shiny apples."
"I swear you're creepy when you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk, I just can't get over the fact that you made that comparison."
"And I can never tell whether you are being serious or messing with me, so I won't even try. Just... don't do anything strange to him."
"I won't comment on how that sounded if you get moving now."
"Right." The prince pivoted, took two hesitant steps... and then practically fled.
The moment he was out of sight, the woman turned to Tiir.
"Now listen, monster," she said. Tiir regarded her through narrowed eyes. "My Prince has obviously taking a liking to you, and you have probably noticed that he is reluctant to bring you to heel as he should. However, if you seek to take advantage of his leniency and attempt to harm him in any way, then regardless of how His Highness feels about the matter, I will hunt down those brats and make sure you never again even think about sticking so much as a toe out of line. I won't kill them, but you will wish I had. Is that clear?"
Tiir was livid. Halfway through her speech, he had turned on his Iino Doue, but the magician didn't appear fazed – neither by his eyes themselves nor by the murderous look he was giving her. She was waiting for a reply, and her body language and facial expression declared that she would get one.
Knowing that nothing of what she had said had been empty talk, Tiir was not going to deny it to her. "Yes," he said, his tone that of a subdued snarl.
"Good boy." Tiir balled his fists, but let his eyes return to their regular state. "Look at it this way," the woman continued. "So long as he does not believe it to be strictly necessary for the good of Salea, our Prince wouldn't harm a fly. This means that unless you go out of your way to provoke him, he is much more likely to arrange those little beasts spoiled rotten than have them tortured.
"Of course, our Queen does have no such qualms about removing that which she deems to be a threat to her empire or heir, so if you cast even the slightest doubt on yourself, I will not have to go against orders to make you regret your imprudence." She gave her words some time to sink in before adding, "See it as an incentive to behave yourself."
With that last sentence, she stepped away from him, though she continued to watch him with an air of cool detachment. Tiir recognized the dismissal for what it was, and forced down his anger. Keeping the little ones safe was all that mattered.
It was almost an hour after their exchange that the prince returned. He glanced at the female magician, then at Tiir, and breathed what appeared to be an exaggerated sigh of relief. The magician rolled her eyes at him and, shooting a last warning look at Tiir, removed herself.
"You all right?" the prince asked.
"Yes," Tiir said. Realizing how clipped his tone had been, he added, "I'm fine."
"Good." The man sat down next to him. "We'll be arriving at the capital tomorrow. I've discussed the matter with Arsan, and we both believe it best to not have you enter the city before nightfall - your existence isn't public knowledge, and we intend to keep it that way. Gastark might eventually figure out that it was us who got to them, but since only a select number of people are involved in the matter, it should be much harder for them to learn about this. You will remain with Lymeia while the rest of the platoon enters Valasea in the morning, and be brought to the palace towards the end of the day, when the streets begin to empty."
"What happens then?" Tiir asked, deciding he might as well try to not stumble into this unprepared.
"Well," the prince said slowly. "First I'll have to convince my mother that the benefits of keeping you alive outweigh the risks. Since she's a very practical sort of person, though, the simple fact that we arrived in Salea without incident might suffice for that – I'm not too worried about that part.
"Next would be the Council. Though its members technically have no right to overrule the sovereign's decisions, our government works as smoothly as it does only because this fact is traditionally treated as nothing more than a formality. Unless we were to suddenly go to war tomorrow, they will want some assurance that you really are under control before giving their consent. The entire thing might lead to me having to attend a whole bunch of conferences, but in the end they will agree. With Gastark and a whole lot of extremely anxious neighboring countries breathing down our neck, they can't afford to pass up this kind of advantage."
Tiir turned his head to look at the prince. "You're very forthcoming with information."
The human blinked at him. "I guess," he said. "But it directly concerns you, doesn't it? I just thought you would want to know that – and how – I'm planning to uphold my part of the agreement."
"I wasn't complaining," Tiir said. He dug his fingernails into his palms. "What will be required of me?"
"Nothing much for now, I would assume. You won't have much freedom of movement and will be watched at all times, but it would probably be difficult to put your abilities to test if we don't want to sacrifice an army or two, so not much of that. Locking you up somewhere else would be a waste, not to mention rather pointless, so you'll most likely stay in or near the palace – which means keep your head down around the Council and my mother, don't talk back to anyone, and don't eat things that try to run from you screaming. You can do that, right?"
"Yes." In fact, it sounded fairly simple. Tiir had expected much worse. "The children?"
"You should be able to see one of the two within a few weeks. I have to clear up the details with my mother first, and probably get the Council's approval, but they have no reason not to give it."
Tiir inclined his head. He could wait that long, if he had to.
"Do they have names?" the human asked.
"What?"
"The children. Do they have names?"
Tiir hesitated. "Ren and Karda."
"Karda is the girl?" Tiir nodded cautiously, having no idea where the human could be going with this. "She's quite something," the prince said. "She was trembling all over, but her voice barely even shook. I almost took her threat seriously there for a second." After a moment, he added, "You must be very proud of them."
"What are you getting at?"
"Whoa." The human held up his hands. "I'm not trying to insinuate anything, so no need to bite off my head... literally. I meant that as I said it: they seemed to care about you very much."
"That's what families are supposed to be about, isn't it?" Tiir bit out.
"Well, yes, but they are still very brave children for jumping right into the line of fire. Besides, I dare say not all families stick together like that."
"Human families, maybe. We're not like you. We don't turn our back on our own."
"Most of us don't, either, you know."
Tiir snorted.
"Yeah, go ahead and scoff at the lowly human. I refuse to feel insulted." A pause. "So, they're your kid siblings? Wait, that doesn't really work with your mother..." The human trailed off.
Tiir glanced at him. He had half-thought the man had forgotten about that. "We're not related by blood."
"But they are your siblings?"
"Yes."
"Thought so. You definitely act like a big brother... an overprotective, slightly paranoid big brother, but I suppose that's understandable, considering the circumstances."
Tiir, who had been prepared for a mocking comment, looked at the human in astonishment. "You speak like you have experience," he remarked after a moment.
"I wish. I have an older sister, which is so much less awesome. Older sisters don't protect you, they are what you need protection from. Either that, or mine is really one of those gruesome, soul-sucking demons they set up wards against in Runa – something I have always suspected, by the way. Did I mention she bit me once?"
"You dislike her?" Tiir asked, bemused.
The prince snorted. "I worship the ground she walks on. I still swear she is a soul-stealing demon in disguise."
"You enjoy not making any sense, don't you?"
"Maybe a bit. Do you plan to stay up all night again?"
"Does it matter?"
"I'll take that as a yes. Well, I'm not feeling very sleepy, either – not that it makes much of a difference, considering Arsan is busy and Lymeia being strange, and someone has to keep an eye on you. I thought maybe we could do something a bit more fun than staring at trees until sunrise."
Tiir gave the human a bewildered look. "Like what?"
The prince grinned. "Wait here a second." He got up and walked over to the encampment, only to return a moment later with a small item in hand. Tiir stared.
"You on?" the human asked, his grin even wider than before.
Tiir just continued to stare at him, utterly dumbfounded.
.
And that was how he ended up playing cards.
With a human.
A human who proved to be downright hopeless at the game. Tiir started out not even knowing the rules, but by the end of the night, he had won thirty games out of thirty-six.
He still didn't know why he had bothered to keep count.
"Damn, you're good," the prince said when he finally put the pack away at sunup. "I would say you should play against Lymeia some time, but I have this feeling that wouldn't go down well, and not only because she's one heck of a sore loser." He stood. "So, I suppose that's it for now, huh?"
The man paused, but went on talking when Tiir didn't say anything, "Try not to make Lymeia angry, all right? I know she can be difficult to deal with, but she usually acknowledges it when someone yields." Another pause. "Well, see you tonight, then."
With that, he left.
Tiir wasn't bothered by his departure at first, but after some time discovered that while he was hardly looking forward to seeing the human again, he had grown used to his presence in the course of the last few days. With him gone and the half-Gastark magician watching his every move, he felt considerably more ill at ease than he had for the largest portion of his captivity.
The woman was a constant reminder of how thin the ice beneath his feet really was and, ironically, of how utterly dependent he was on one human's goodwill. Every despising glance she threw at him, every contemptuous snort she gave was a conscious action meant to put him in his place as much as it was a genuine expression of disgust.
And Tiir wasn't going to pick a fight.
When she looked at him, he averted his gaze. When she made a noise of derision, he turned away. When she taunted him with words, he bowed his head, hiding the hatred in his eyes.
Though he doubted that the prince's assessment was relevant – she might acknowledge a human admitting defeat, but not a monster –, at the moment, she was an enemy he couldn't afford to aggravate.
It was as good an opportunity as any to practice licking boots.
"You've become quite the meek little monster, haven't you?" the magician commented towards the end of the day, when the sky was bathed in the deep red of the setting sun. Almost idly, she approached him. "What, I don't even get a growl anymore? Pity." He caught the canteen she threw at him without looking up. "Drink this and get going. We're moving."
Tiir wasn't feeling thirsty, but he took some of the water, anyway, before getting to his feet and holding the item back out to her.
The magician scoffed. "Keep it. I'm not going to put something in my mouth that has been slobbered at by an animal."
Tiir clenched his fists, but didn't say anything.
The woman smiled at him in mocking satisfaction. "Maybe we'll make a decent pet out of you yet."
x x x
They had walked for approximately an hour when the human abruptly came to a halt. Tiir turned to her, but resisted the urge to fix her with a loathing stare and instead looked over her shoulder in an effort to appear neutral.
It required so much concentration that his reaction when she grabbed his wrist was severely belated, and far from impressive. He flinched back, and would probably have landed on his rear if she had let go at that moment.
"You really are pathetic," the magician informed him. She turned his hand so that the palm was facing upwards, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Tiir followed her gaze – when he realized that she was looking at the bloody marks left behind by his fingernails, his hands instinctively tensed, but this time, he consciously refrained from balling them to fists.
Instead, he looked away.
The magician snorted and let go. "Wretched creature. Well, I suppose since you have been good, you can have a treat. My Prince would probably like to have you back undamaged." He barely had the time to process her words before she threw her magic at him. Like the last time he had fed, it wasn't much – a small, controlled attack; but to Tiir, who had been feeling like he was on the verge of starving for days now, it was heaven.
He could have lost himself in the sensation, if he'd had the liberty.
He didn't, though, and so he tore himself away from the bliss and unwillingly turned off his ability. Staring at the human in confusion, he noted that one hand had been on her weapon the whole time, quite likely in case that he attacked her.
It made what she had done even more incomprehensible.
She didn't explain herself any further, though, and merely walked past him. "Heel," she said with a snap of her fingers, and Tiir caught up to her, too bewildered to even feel fury at her choice of command.
He kept his distance from her, but the road was only so broad, and the human had made it clear that she did not appreciate having him in her back. The sentiment was mutual, and so he wasn't going to walk in front of her, either, if there was no longer any sign that it was what she expected of him.
When they passed the city's gates shortly before they were closed for the night, they did so side by side, their shoulders almost touching, and Tiir didn't think either of them was happy about it.
x x x
Valasea was not like Tiir had imagined it to be. It was not much more dirty than the average human village, and though its defenses appeared to not have been neglected, it wasn't a suffocating stronghold, either. In fact, the structure of the city's intricate streets and tall bright buildings was eye-catching, and not in a bad way. There were some smaller houses, which aside from their height distinguished themselves from the rest mostly in their coloring: some were darker, a pale gray, while others simply lacked the black wood that made up the other buildings' doors, shutters and sometimes balconies. A few pompous estates and filthy alleys aside, and ignoring the fact that it was inhabited by humans, the scenery was actually a very appealing one. This was true even though – or perhaps because – it was obvious that they stuck to the areas that were the least occupied.
Not that Tiir had much of a basis for comparison. He usually avoided large human towns, or really, any human settlements at all, except to feed or pick up other bearers of the Divine Eyes. The latter rarely were to be found in the bigger cities – not alive, anyway –, and when it came to the matter of nourishment, Tiir preferred to simply get the guards outside of the larger towns to supply him with magic. He had no compunction about eating humans, of course, but it was more of a hassle, and it always had something of swallowing cockroaches – they simply disgusted him too much.
As a consequence, he had rarely ever set foot into a capital city.
They arrived at the palace – another tall, bright building that looked less pompous than it could have – after an additional half an hour and several detours, and snuck inside without further delay. Tiir assumed that the majority of the guards that would otherwise have blocked their way had been withdrawn shortly beforehand – either that, or the place's security was as terrible as its prince's aptitude for card games, but he doubted the city would still be standing if that were the case.
The heir to the throne was expecting them in one of the many corridors in the upper realm of the building, and led them to a room even higher up. Tiir quickly learned that Salean architects had a bothersome predilection for spiral staircases.
"The study?" the female magician asked when they stopped in front of an ornate door made of ebony.
The prince shrugged. "The throne room would attract too much attention even at this time of the day, and my mother does have to arrange a Council meeting." He turned to Tiir. "She just wants to confirm what I told her, so this is only a formality, really. Don't look her in the eyes – that's considered bad etiquette in Salea for everyone except members of the Royal Family and the highest of nobles –, don't speak unless spoken to, and try not to appear like you'd rather be out there killing something. That's pretty much it, and I guess the last one isn't all that important."
Without giving Tiir time to react, the human returned his attention to the door. He knocked, and after a moment opened it without waiting for verbal permission to do so.
The female magician gave Tiir a none-too-gentle shove, and he entered in front of her.
"Mother," the prince said once the half-Gastark woman had closed the door behind herself.
The queen, who had been standing motionless behind her desk, acknowledged the greeting with a regal nod, and then immediately turned her attention to Tiir.
As he had been instructed to do, he took care not to look directly into her face as she regarded him, but he had gotten a fair impression of it when he had first entered the room. If he hadn't known she and the prince were related, he wouldn't have guessed.
Where the prince's hair was unruly and of a brown that was closer to blond, the queen's black locks fell in artful curls. Her features were less open, her movements more deliberate, and she was almost a head taller than her son.
The air of authority that surrounded her was almost palpable – if he hadn't known she was a human, Tiir would probably have felt compelled to respect her on some level.
"That's the Eye bearer?" she asked.
It was the female magician who answered. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"Not quite the hideous creature I imagined." The queen stepped around her desk, stopping right in front of Tiir and grabbing his chin. "The Iino Doue – show it to me."
After a brief moment of hesitation, he did. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the magician reaching for her weapon like she had done when letting him devour her magic, but the woman in front of him didn't even blink. Tiir didn't know whether to think her bold or stupid.
The Voice told him to killtearapartkillkillkill the inferior creature on the spot, but he didn't let any of that show on his face.
After what felt like an eternity, the queen released him and returned behind the desk, from which she picked up a small, slender blade without a hilt to idly stroke between her fingers. Turning to her son, she said, "I won't force you to go against your word – you may keep the children, if you wish. However, as valuable a weapon as it could be, an Iino Doue would be too difficult to keep in check in the long-run." Glancing at the female magician with an impassive gaze, she ordered, "Crystallize it."
Tiir froze, and for a moment, he thought about fighting. If he died, the children's future would be even more uncertain than it already was. He could attack the human in front of him, take her as a hostage, and devour the people in this room once he had been told the little ones' location so that he could get there before anyone else.
However, the only one present both certain to know their exact whereabouts and possibly willing to at least think about negotiating with him was the prince, and Tiir wasn't at all sure about the last part. He wasn't an easy human to predict, and for all he knew, he and his mother were on bad terms, or he could simply be coveting the throne – he was, after all, a human. Tiir would also have to get rid of the half-Gastark magician first if he didn't want to take a huge risk, and he had a feeling that if he did that, he might as well give up on the information he desired right now and abandon the children to save his own skin; which, of course, was completely out of the question.
On the other hand, if he surrendered his life willingly, the humans might be more likely to view the children as useful weapons, and if in the future, an opportunity arose – and if Gastark didn't get to them first –, they might be able to flee and return to their kin one day.
Neither prospect left Tiir feeling less hopeless and enraged than the other, but in the end, he decided that if nothing else, the worst case scenario of the second option was the less terrible one. The little ones might die, but at least they wouldn't be slowly tortured to death for the sake of revenge.
So he forced himself to remain perfectly still when the female magician came to a halt behind him, and even refrained from letting the red fade from his eyes.
"Kneel," she said, and Tiir allowed her to push him to the floor. Refusing to have a human be the last thing he saw, he kept his gaze firmly on the white tiles. He thought of the children at the Headquarters, who would be waiting in vain for him to return – thought of Ene, and about how he could almost appreciate the fact that he would never have to stand by uselessly and watch her die. It crossed his mind that maybe if he was gone, she would be more careful with her own life for their comrades' sake; but just a heartbeat later he realized how foolish a notion that was, knowing it was for their benefit that she used her powers to such an extent in the first place. He wondered if she had foreseen this, if his death would serve a purpose; if anything at all he had done had served a purpose.
Feeling the cool metal of the hook against his neck, he concluded that the humans were going to immobilize him first just to be safe.
He tensed, gritting his teeth, but didn't move away.
The weapon left his nape, but instead of being rammed into his back a second later, it remained gone. Tiir looked up in confusion, only to discover that the magician was stepping aside.
"That's enough," the queen said, lowering her hand and calmly gazing at her son. "You have permission to do with him as you see fit."
"Thank you, Mother," the prince said, sounding slightly shaken, but not surprised.
"I suggest placing him with a member of the Council. Perhaps Lord Remdra – he would probably appreciate the opportunity to study the Cursed Eyes."
"Lord Remdra?" the prince asked, apparently not too enthusiastic about the prospect. "What about High Marshal Gareyn?"
The queen shook her head. "High Marshal Gareyn is a busy man and doesn't have the time, nor the means, to ensure the necessary surveillance. Lord Remdra doesn't have his duties, and would certainly support your case in front of the Council in return. I do not believe it would be easy for you to convince any of the other members to take him."
"In that case, would it be acceptable for me to look after him?"
Tiir glanced at the man in surprise – and for once it seemed he wasn't the only one who hadn't expected this turn of events.
"You?" the queen asked in apparent wonder. "Are you saying you don't have any duties to attend to?"
"This won't interfere with them. I understand that High Marshal Gareyn wouldn't be able to take him to formal events and doesn't have any non-civilian family members that would qualify to provide surveillance in his place, but no one would be surprised if I had gotten myself a bodyguard after that last assassination attempt. It's also unlikely that a spy from Gastark who has seen him before would not only manage to infiltrate the court, but also get close enough to recognize him and then leave this city alive, so it shouldn't be an issue, and if there are any other problems, I should be able to organize someone within the palace to keep an eye on him for a while."
"That may be so, but are you certain you want to limit yourself like that? You would have to remain with the bearer twenty-four hours a day, and the Council will not be swayed easily. It would be much simpler to leave him with Lord Remdra."
"I know, but I... just don't like the idea."
"You 'just don't like the idea'?" There was a faint trace of amusement in the queen's voice, but all in all, she sounded utterly bewildered.
"If I may say so," the half-Gastark magician spoke up, "it seems the Prince has grown somewhat attached to the creature after spending so much time with it. He probably worries about the extent of Lord Remdra's scientific interest."
"Is that true?" the queen asked.
"I... yes. Lord Remdra would treat him as an experiment for curiosity's sake alone. It would not benefit our empire, and therefore, I don't believe enabling such a thing to be justifiable."
"You're too soft," the queen said, but there was no bite to her words. "Keep him if you wish. Just don't forget that if he becomes a threat, you will have to dispose of him along with the two Alpha Stigma bearers."
"I'm aware of that," the prince said. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. I will not convince the Council for you."
"You will give me your support, though?"
"Of course."
"That's good enough, then." There was a smile in the man's voice. "May we leave?"
A dismissive wave. "Go ahead. I still have something to discuss with Lymeia."
The prince lightly touched Tiir's shoulder. "Come on."
Tiir didn't have to be told that twice. He rose, and followed the man outside.
x x x
"Sorry about that," the prince said as they reached the staircase. He was walking in front of Tiir, and now glanced over his shoulder for the first time since they had left the study. "My mother is a very pragmatic woman, but for precisely that reason, she prefers to resolve issues immediately. An asset that could become a liability at any moment isn't worth anything to her. On the bright side, she won't question your priorities after this."
Tiir clenched his fists. "Wasn't that a bit risky just to test how far you can push me?" He was angry for having been played like that, for not having seen through it... but most of all, he still wasn't completely over the utter desolation he had felt at the thought of having to leave the children behind like that; unprotected, completely at the humans' mercy.
"Not at all. Backing you into a corner and gauging your reaction was the safest thing she could have done. If you had lashed out, it would mean you pose an acute risk to our empire – from the perspective of a sovereign, there wouldn't have been any point in keeping you around. Crystallized, your eyes may not be as efficient a weapon, but they would have been safe to use for a capable magician. Extreme situations can always arise, and we can't afford that kind of unknown variable."
"What if I had killed her?"
A short silence. "Well, I suppose I can tell you now," the prince finally said. "You remember that blade my mother held in hand? It's actually a Rule Fragment. Since you've been in contact with Gastark and have first-hand experience with Lymeia's Hook, you probably know more about them than I do, so let's just say it most likely wouldn't have ended well for you if you had reacted differently." The human shook his head. "I didn't know what exactly my mother was planning beforehand, and I was really worried there for a second. I could practically see you contemplating your options; if you'd made a different decision, I would have ended up breaking quite a few promises."
Tiir bit back a snarl at the implication. "Wouldn't our agreement have been null and void?" he forced himself to ask.
"Well, yes, but I did tell the children you wouldn't be harmed, either, didn't I? And later I even informed you that my mother would agree to my proposal, so it's my fault this caught you so completely off-guard."
Tiir took a moment to mull that over. Had he really not expected such a reaction from the woman simply because her son had claimed there wouldn't be? It seemed a laughable idea. He would never just put his trust in a human's words like that. And yet...
The thought that he could be killed upon his arrival had never crossed his mind. Was it because the human had sounded so confident, so earnest?
No, Tiir decided. It was nothing so curious. There simply hadn't been any logical reason for the man to bring him all this way if he would just be disposed of on the spot.
"Besides," the prince said, "it's not like I wanted to see you get killed." He threw Tiir a grin. "I rather enjoyed playing cards with you."
Some minutes later, the human halted in front of yet another dark wooden door, this one slightly less elaborate than the last. "So, here we are." The man paused, suddenly seeming worried, and turned around. "You, uh... don't eat dogs, do you?"
Tiir blinked, taken aback by the seemingly random question. "No."
"Oh, good." Another pause. "What about cats?"
Tiir decided that the human was being odd again. "I don't eat cats, either," he said in a forbearing tone of voice. Maybe that was why this human was such a strange one – he wasn't quite right, up there.
"Oh, er, that's good, then." The prince turned back and unlocked the door. "Come in."
However, before either of them could cross the threshold, a large, furry black... thing first threw himself at the prince, and then at Tiir.
While the human, apparently prepared, simply shoved the animal back down and petted it for a few seconds until it moved on to its next target, Tiir had not expected to be literally jumped.
Standing on its hind legs, the thing easily reached up to his shoulders, and Tiir, who stumbled back in surprise, quickly learned that it was as heavy as it looked.
This time, he did land on his rear.
The dog – or at least, Tiir assumed it was a dog, because while he didn't have much experience with them, he'd always thought they weren't supposed to resemble an over-sized floor cloth – happily used the opportunity to lick not only his hands, but also his face and hair.
Finally, Tiir got over his surprise enough to hold the thing off with one arm. He stared at it.
Right behind the dog, the human, who had been looking rather unsure until then, suddenly burst out laughing. It wasn't a sinister or even mocking kind of laugh, but just... amused. Tiir didn't think he'd ever had a human direct that kind of laughter at him before, and it just made him feel more out of his depth.
Soon, the prince was lying on the floor in hysterics. "The... the look on your face," he said between gasps.
The dog was still trying to get to him with its tongue, so Tiir carefully patted it on the head in an attempt to calm it down. The animal seemed content with that, and after a while went back over to its master, possibly to make sure he wasn't about to suffocate.
The prince had gotten back to his feet, but he was leaning against the wall for support, his shoulders still shaking. "Yes, good dog," he finally managed.
The animal stepped aside, and the prince walked over to Tiir, holding out his hand.
Tiir looked at it without moving for a moment, before hesitatingly taking it.
"Sorry, Lord Truffles can get a bit over-excited."
"Lord... Truffles?"
"That's what my mother said. I've since been forbidden to so much as suggest names for any of her potential grandchildren. Yes, that would include my own."
Tiir couldn't help but think that the human queen probably had the right idea there.
x x x
"Welcome to my chambers," the prince said once he had closed the door behind them and lit some candles. "Feel free to make yourself at home."
Tiir glanced around. It was a relatively large room, but sparingly furnished – a bookshelf, a desk and a chair in one corner; a large pillow and a bowl filled with water that seemed to belong to the dog in the other, and opposite to the door a spacious bed with an open window and what appeared to be an old wooden wardrobe next to it. Aside from that, Tiir could make out some landscape paintings and a similar tapestry. The walls themselves were painted in white just like the ones in the corridors and in the study had been, though the carpeted floor was of a dull brown.
He only noticed the small table next to the door when the prince walked over to it, put a cloth into the basin resting on top of it and finally offered the wet kerchief to Tiir. "Here, in case you want to get cleaned up after your encounter with Lord Truffles."
Tiir took it with some reluctance, unable to detect the taunt in the human's voice that he knew must be there.
"I wouldn't be able to get another bed in here without attracting unwanted attention, but make yourself comfortable wherever you want."
Once he was done using it, Tiir put down the cloth on the table it had come from, and silently sat down next to the piece of furniture.
The human blinked at him, then shook his head. "You know," he said, picking up a blanket and a pillow from the bed, "I'm not that much of a bastard. I do have some spare bedclothes, at least." He dropped the items in front of Tiir. Something seemed to occur to him, and he hesitated. "Actually," he said slowly, "I wouldn't mind sharing, if you find the floor to be uncomfortable."
Tiir glanced up at the human, hand hovering over the blanket he had been about to take. "You're offering to share your bed with a monster?" he asked in a mixture of contempt and bafflement.
"Yeah, some monster you are – defeated by Lord Truffles." With a snort, the prince locked the door and turned to him. "So?"
"I'm fine," Tiir said, trying not to wrinkle his nose in disgust. Sleep in the bed of an enemy, a human?
It was a foreign, utterly ludicrous notion.
"Suit yourself." The prince started to move towards the bed again, but then stopped abruptly and whirled around. "Ah, I remember now!"
Tiir regarded him, bemused. "Remember what?"
The human grinned broadly. "Your name!" he declared. "It was Tiir, right?" Perhaps at Tiir's badly concealed look of surprise, he explained, "I heard the children say it, but it didn't quite register at the time." He paused. "It was Tiir, wasn't it?"
"Yes," Tiir said, slowly.
"So," the human began, a bit less exuberant, "would you mind if I called you that?"
Tiir hadn't expected the man to care about his opinion in the matter, but now that he had been asked, he thought about it. He'd never had a human address him by name. He usually got 'monster', sometimes 'demon' or even 'devil', and he was fine with that. What did the predator care what the prey called him?
However, things had gotten complicated, and being reminded so blatantly of how his comrades were treated by those lowly humans, how they were abandoned and shunned and slaughtered, was so much more difficult when he wasn't allowed to just rip the offenders' heads off.
Besides, there was no real reason why he shouldn't give the human permission to call him by name.
"No," he said therefore. "I wouldn't mind."
The prince was grinning once more. Tiir had no idea what had him so excited, but something crossed his mind. "What do you wish me to address you as?"
The human stopped his stupid grinning and looked at him in surprise. "Huh. I hadn't thought about that." A pause. "In fact, I didn't even introduce myself, did I? The name is Ecylan. Ecylan Elestres, but Ecylan is fine in private, really. In public... take your pick. Can't go wrong with 'Your Highness', I suppose."
"Ecylan," Tiir tried, almost without thinking. The name felt strange on his tongue.
"I'm not picky, honestly – but something other than 'human' would be nice. You have this way of saying the word..."
"It's fully intentional, I assure you."
"I had a feeling it was. Since we'll be spending quite a bit of time with each other in the near future, though, would it hurt to try and be civil? I don't need to be constantly reminded that you'd much rather have me for a snack than converse with me, thank you very much. For some reason, it makes me a bit uneasy."
"You've got quite the high opinion of yourself. Your brain tissue may look appetizing enough, but I promise you that given the choice, I prefer magic over human trash."
"My brain tissue looks... I will so forget you ever said that." The prince shuddered, but then paused. "On the other hand, it's probably the nicest thing I'll ever get to hear from you, isn't it? Maybe I should just take it as a compliment." The human nodded to himself, and politely told him, "Thank you. I'm sure your brain tissue looks very delicious, too."
Tiir gaped at him.
"So," the prince continued, as if he hadn't just proven that he was of questionable sanity at best – no human was supposed to react to Tiir's ability with that kind of indifference. "Magic tastes better than people?"
"It's not about taste," Tiir said. "It's simply more potent." He paused. "And less filthy."
"You really must hate humans a whole lot, if you'd even be willing to abstain from all that delicious brain tissue."
Tiir narrowed his eyes at the prince. "I do."
"Why?"
"Why?" Tiir repeated, turning his snarl into a scoff with some effort, but being quite certain that his eyes had flashed red there for a second. "You hunt us down like beasts and have the nerve to ask why?"
"Whoa, calm down. I never said I don't understand why I am not your favorite person in the world right now. If I was in your position, I wouldn't like me very much, either. What I'm wondering is what you have against humanity as a whole."
Tiir made a sound of derision. "You're all the same. There is no difference between you and the rest." And if there was, it said a lot that his captor, who had threatened his family and used him against them, would easily come out the lesser of two evils.
"How do you know that?"
"Because I've seen it." Tiir narrowed his eyes. "Because it's the truth."
"You've taken the time to get to know every human in existence on a personal basis?" the prince asked, eyebrows raised. "I'm impressed."
"That's hardly necessary." Because he had encountered enough humans. Because he could hear Heaven's command since before he had taken his first gulp of air. Because he had seen what the lowly human scum did to those of his brethren who couldn't – who devoted themselves to them and got betrayed and betrayed and betrayed again.
Because he no longer doubted that it had been his right to devour the inferior human woman who had conceived him.
"If you say so," the human replied, sounding fairly underwhelmed by his reasoning. "I think I'm going to catch some sleep now. Anything you need?"
"No," Tiir said curtly.
"All right. Oh," the man added as an afterthought, "don't be surprised if cats start climbing through the window. They tend to come and go as they please."
Tiir watched the prince yawn tiredly and turn around, and wondered – not for the first time – where that human's peculiarity came from.
.
.
Author's Note:
Yes, Main Character Number Two officially has a name now! Not that it will kill the epithets, but hey, it's a step in the right direction.
I promised myself to not make any silly jokes about how this is clearly going to be a beautiful friendship since everyone wants to be loved for what is inside their head and the way to a man's heart is obviously through his stomach, so let's pretend this sentence does not exist.
It shouldn't be so much fun to sic over-friendly dogs on unsuspecting fictional characters, but it is. All right, so Tiir probably wouldn't agree, but I'm sure he's glad to have some semi-decent company, at least!
I still don't know how he and Ecy ended up playing cards, by the way. I'm mean, I'm sure it had something to do with Tiir being all "wtf" and "better not upset the dangerous human with the loose screw", but I really didn't plan that. I should probably be glad it wasn't something like I Spy instead, because that would just have been awkward.
...Though probably only slightly more awkward than me having made up another Rule Fragment. I figured that if I didn't want Salea to be eradicated within a week or so, they better had something up their sleeves. Speaking of awkward, I hesitated to use words like "deactivate" in regards to the Iino Doue, since it's technically inaccurate (as some aspects of the Iino Doue aren't affected, like its automatic absorption of anything magic that gets near Tiir), but I eventually decided to go with it, mostly because I decided that the context would take care of any ambiguity. I hope I was right!
The inspiration for the chapter title this time was the song "Our Solemn Hour" by Within Temptation. I also thought "Darkest Hour" sort of worked as an allusion to "Crawling in the Dark" by Hoobastank.
Next time: cats! Er, I mean, lots of deep, meaningful stuff... but also cats!
For now, I hope you had fun reading this chapter!
(Maybe I should just call this section "Author's Half-Coherent Ramblings" instead.)