Disclaimer: I don't own WITCH. It's the property of the Mighty Disney Company.
Hello, my dear readers. Hope you enjoyed the previous chapter, and welcome to the seventh chapter of A different story and the first Meridian Interlude, Children of a Dysfunctional World. Like I said in the A/N of the previous chapter, this chapter will be mainly focused in the childhoods of both Caleb and Phobos, so if you are a fan of them, congrats! I remember to all of you that I don't like Phobos… but that's because I think that the writers and network messed with what he was intended to be. So, I'm going to use this chapter to transform Phobos into MY Phobos, and albeit I'm going to try and present a good and plausible Freudian Excuse for him, my Phobos is going to end being an asshole at the same level that the ones from both canon material… with the intention of making him a proper villain that fits into this story's premise and ambient. And if you remember from the second chapter, I said that the rebels of MY story have done some nasty stuff during the war, so don't be surprised for the things that I show you here. After all, a war is a hell on earth, and both parties that partake in it commit both glorious and heinous acts.
So, let's move onto the chapter, have a pleasant read and leave a review.
PD: Albeit the quotes for the previous chapters were from some relevant figures, the ones used in the interludes are going to be songs and… are going to be two. I will explain later why.
PD2: This chapter turned out to be the largest in the story yet. Jesus!
PD3: You may noted that I changed this story's genre from Fantasy and Adventure to Fantasy and Tragedy. Because, let's be sincere and especially after this chapter. This IS a Tragedy.
WITCH
A different story
Chapter seven
First Meridian Interlude
Children of a Dysfunctional World
After the nightmares. Weak is our mind. It could be the devil hiding inside everyone. Throughout these visions, it's reality. But now it makes me wonder should I carry on my way. The Dark Memories; Heavenly.
The world of Meridian (Metamoor)
During his entire life, Havárakh of the deep swamps (a Galhot with a pale green skin and a series of white protuberances in his head that were so big that looked almost like curved horns), had done nothing aside from transporting merchandise over Meridian. His entire family had been dedicated at that profession since his great-grandfather's generation. When Havárakh was born, his family had a whole convoy of caravans at their disposal, and other three families working under their care. Since he was a child, his father had reminded him that his priority wasn't the amount of gain he could gather, but the prosperity of the families that composed the convoy. In his first years as chief, it had been an easy task. The convoy was prosperous enough to afford some failures of a novice.
The hard times had come with the tyranny. Phobos ditched the majority of the commercial guilds away, and the bunch of familiar businesses that lasted had to pay almost all of their gains to the corrupted court of the prince. For the convoy of caravans and everyone that composed it, those had been times of hunger. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary for a lot of time to pass in order for the Rebellion to rise and defy the tyrant, and lend a hand to the fellow meridianite.
During those times, Havárakh had done some jobs for the Rebellion; mainly transporting weaponry between their freight, or having members hiding amongst their crew. When the rebels had overthrown the tyrant, Havárakh smiled with joy. He kept doing jobs for the rebels, but now it was official, and it was mainly material for the reconstruction of Meridian. It seemed like the good times were going to return. But that dream was shattered easily. And he wasn't thinking about the kidnap of the Queen, or the return of the tyrant. He was so focused into conquering other realms that didn't care for something so small as his family and him. And Meridian could function quite surprisingly well without a Queen; only with the Court and the Ministers.
No, he was speaking about Kelliwick. About the monstrosity of silver metal that the Queen had inaugurated not so many days ago, and that made possible for the miners to treat the raw minerals that extracted from the mines and transform them into metals. This allowed them to distribute them to the public almost instantly. And if word was to be trusted, the Court was planning to build more of them in the time being. They had started already; and even if they were smaller than the one of Kelliwick (that was so massive that it looked terrifying sometimes) they were proving as functional as their predecessor. The engineers and builders worked day by day, without taking a nap.
These were bad news for Havárakh and his convoy. The majority of jobs and deals that he had were with the miners of that city. They extracted, he transported and delivered, and some others transformed the minerals into whatever they wanted. He had his money for it and spent it into the necessities of his followers. But with that Dammed construct… factory they had called it; had ruined everything. Little by little, their economical savings were decaying; their provisions were thinner and less day by day. And the worst part was that he couldn't protest. Almost everyone was amazed about those factory things, everyone looked proud of them, happy about them… His convoy was obsolete now. That situation made Havárakh to take a… different approach to his profession, one that he didn't take since the end of the tyranny.
He had resorted to contraband. It hadn't been something big, just a bunch of jewels and furniture that he and his most trusted companions had bought to a raven haired girl in the outskirts of a lonely village, and that they were planning to sell into some random village to whoever wanted them … or in the Passling Market. They had opted for the Passling Market; at least Havárakh did, not wanting to attract too many attention. Everything had gone smoothly… until they mentioned the raven haired girl to some Passling called Blunk. That had been their undoing, and what had led him where he was now.
He was in one of the interrogation chambers of the castle, his butt sit into an uncomfortable chair, his hands cuffed to a small table, both of them made of metal. It wasn't properly a cell, and of course it wasn't one of the believed terrible cells of the mythological Infinite City… but it was a terrible place to be. There were two guards taking care about him, and sometimes he eyed them and the pair retorted back with a gaze that indicated that he wasn't the only one not knowing was going to happen.
That dammed Passling! The moment they had mentioned the girl, it hadn't pass seconds for a platoon of Guards to appear on their location and arrest them. And the worst part was that the Dammed green dwarf had gotten away with their merchandise! He had ever believed the rumors of Passlings being tricksters, liars and thieves to be just that, rumors; but now he was reconsidering it…
Then the door of the chamber opened, and three figures entered. The first one was a skinny human being that, just after entering and without saying a word neither to him not to the two guards; positioned himself behind Havárakh. The second one was the Dammed Passling. Havárakh scolded at him with the angriest look he could master. The Passling shivered and, not hiding his unease, directed himself to the third and final figure approaching the chamber.
"This is the man, Caleb. You ask Blunk, and Blunk gives him to you" said the Passling to the third man. Wait a second there… Caleb? As in Caleb the Rebel Leader? The right hand man of the Iron Queen?
Havárakh looked at him directly and, in truth, it was the former Rebel Leader and now one of the top officials of the royal militia, Caleb, son of Julian; in the usual attire the merchant had seen him in so many meetings with the rebellion, or standing beside the Queen in the Court. The young but experienced commander took off his brown coat and, after putting it to one side, he sat down in front of Havárakh, hands put together with his chin over them, letting the weight of his head to rest. Without even making a gesture, he spoke to the pair of guards. "Get out; you two aren't needed here anymore." His tone was serious, almost cold. The pair of soldiers disappeared behind the door, and let the Passling, the commander, the mysterious man and the merchant turned contrabandist alone in the room.
Havárakh looked at the young man, who hadn't taken his green, intense gaze off of him since he had sat down. The merchant shivered. This wasn't some light punishment for breaking the law. This was something much more serious. Where the hell he had dragged him and his co-workers into?
His thoughts were interrupted when Caleb directed to the man behind the Ghalot. "You are one of Gorlois's men, aren't you?" the man nodded. "Do you understand why you are here?" The man nodded again. "Good." Caleb eyed the green skinned man. "And you, do you understand why you are here?"
At first Havárakh didn't know what to say. After several minutes, he answered. "I would say I'm here because I broke the law committing contraband, but considering the fact that someone of your rank is here, sitting in front of me, I say that there is more to me being here than that."
"Good answer" said Caleb. He then made a signal with his right hand's index, and the man behind Havárakh tossed a bunch of papers over his head. The papers ended over the metal table with an small "poof". Ten Caleb took one of them. "Blunk said to me that you gathered quite the amount of freight … from a certain raven haired girl. Tell me, did she look like this one?" and then showed the paper he was holding to him.
In it, drawn almost perfectly, was the image of the same raven haired girls that he had bought his freight to. The same blue and white colored dress, the same blue eyes. But at the side of the image was something much more unnerving. It looked like a giant, black-furred spider-like being. Why was something like that at the side of…? Oh. Oh shit, did he make a deal with a shapeshifter? The court didn't tolerate shapeshifters! They had been at the service of the Prince since the first minute; the fucking right hand man of Phobos was a shapeshifter, for the love of…!
Havárakh stopped his torrent of thoughts and calmed his mind. Lying to a high commander wasn't a good idea. "Yes" answered the Galhot. "That was the girl, but I had no idea she was a shapeshifter back then. If I had known…"
Caleb silenced him holding up one hand. "You aren't here because she was a shapeshifter. You are here because she, as an individual, is an escapee of the Court and the law of Meridian. Now what I want to know more than that are the two next things. First, I want to know where did you make contact with her and second" Caleb pulled out another paper, showing it to Havárakh. This one held the image of a quite beautiful, regal dressed blond man. The Galhot knew perfectly of whom that image was. That was Lord Cedric, the closest man to the Prince back in the dark days. But wasn't he imprisoned? Oh gods, did he escape? Havárakh didn't remember seeing him with the girl, although. Still… he had more important things to care about. The merchant made his move.
"Where are my men?" asked the horned Galhot.
"In another section of the castle. Now, if you could answer me…" said Caleb.
"Another section? Like the dungeons under the castle? Did you put my men in there?" retorted back Havárakh.
Caleb didn't answer. He put his hands directly over the table and closing his eyes and sighing; he made a gesture to the man behind Havárakh with a movement of his head. "You know what to do."
"Yes sir" answered plainly the man.
The next him Havárakh knew was that his head was smashed onto the metallic table. It hurt. A lot. Then the man held up his head, and the merchant looked how Caleb stood up from his seat and stared directly to the man's eyes. "Was Cedric with that girl? Where are they?" his tone was cold, h sounded almost mechanical.
"I don't…" started Havárakh, just for his head to be slammed again against the table.
"Wrong answer" said Caleb, whilst Havárakh's head was being held up again, a red line of blood getting down from his head. "Next try, where are Cedric and Miranda?"
Miranda? Was that the little girl's name? "I… It was a lonely small village… I cannot recall…"
"Wrong answer again" and the poor Galhot's head slammed again against the now red colored metal. "Try to think better" said Caleb, the coldness of his voice starting to fade away and letting an angry tone to take its place.
"Caleb…" it was the Passling now. "Blunk doesn't think that you should…"
"You have no word on this, Blunk!" shouted Caleb to the little green dwarf, who jumped a little, scared by his friend's intense answer. Looking back at Havárakh, who had his head held up again, this time with more blood running down his forehead and face. "Where?!"
"My head hurts…" said Havárakh. Of course, that was still the 'wrong answer'. And this time, Caleb was the one who took hold of his head, and slammed it one, two, three times against the table. He let the man there, his blood dirtying the table and starting to drop to the ground. He draw nearer to the man and whispered directly into his ear. "That man had killed my friend. I won't rest and I won't stop at anything until I saw him and that girl of his hanged out by their throats in the streets so everyone can see their rotten bodies. So, you either tell me where are they, or I will slam your face against this table so many times that your own mother won't recognize you. Or maybe" said Caleb, the coldness of his voice returning, adding more points to his intimidation "do you want for me to let you here and take this 'interrogation' to the ones we captured with you"
That was the proper stimulation. Havárakh opened his eyes wide, and not thinking otherwise, he said "A little village with no name by the side of the Mirmirine fields of the east. I never saw the snake-man with her, I swear""
"The double-colored flower fields? Near Carhaiz?" asked Caleb, the coldness now starting to get accompanied by a mischievous smirk. His prisoner nodded. "See? That's a good answer. Still" said Caleb, raising from his posture and putting his cloak again. "You have broken the law and make a deal with a dangerous criminal; a shapeshifter, no less. So…" Caleb directed to the man behind Havárakh. "Put this criminal and his companions in a cell of the dungeons of the castle. Make sure that no one out of your unit or Gorlois himself makes contact with them." Caleb then started to leave, with Blunk in tow. Havárakh glared at the young man's back with hatred. He hoped that at least his men were unharmed.
Once the door closed behind their backs, silence took hold of the pair until the green dwarf spoke. "Caleb, Blunk thinks that you didn't have to do that…"
Caleb looked at his companion. The little Passling had stayed by his side since they were rescued by the Guardians that fateful day in the dungeons of the castle, their world still under Phobos' grasp. He had been helpful in many ways to the Rebellion, and to him personally. Looking oddly and considerably more calmed, Caleb spoke to the little man, trying to reassure him. "I'm sorry to have to involve you in this, Blunk. But if I needed to know Cedric's location."
"And the spider-girl's…" added the Passling.
Caleb shook his head. "Miranda is irrelevant, but where she is, there Cedric would be too. And he must return to his cell, for the best of our world." "And for Aldarn to rest in peace" added the man in his thoughts, his fist clenching. "Look Blunk" continued Caleb, "I didn't like to have to do that to that man either, but sometimes you have to do something bad in a small level to get something good in a bigger one. At least, that was what I was taught." Then Caleb moved his head, letting one of the bangs of his hair to move from his forehead to its rightful place. "That man and his companions will be kept captive until their debt with the law is paid; and his wounds close. Then he and he others will return to their regular lives. They are only a means to an end, after all."
Blunk nodded silently. He was starting to think that he had made an error at telling the guards about the merchants. Curiosity took hold of his mind. "Who?" asked the Passling to the young man.
"Who what?" retorted back Caleb.
"Blunk wants to know… who taught you that?" asked the Passling again, this time formulating his sentence in a better manner.
Caleb looked strangely at his front. Blunk and he kept walking by the halls, into the Queen's private chambers direction. Caleb wanted permission to hunt the snake, and also to put his 'Elite Squad' idea to practice. He had enough time to remember while walking. Now, who had taught him that? His father, maybe? Caleb sunk into his deepest memories, recalling the steps that had made the way to where he was now…
The world of Meridian. Many years ago. The times of Queen Weira.
In one of the houses that composed the city that lay at the feet of the castle of the House of Escanor, a little brown-haired boy with curious and vivid green eyes played with a little sword made of wood. He was beating invisible monsters with it, making himself the protagonist and hero of his own stories.
His name was Caleb, a little boy of only four years old, the son of Julian, one of the men that composed the lower ranks of the militia of Meridian. His father never had set foot in the castle, but they had enough to life. That day, little Caleb waited playing, while his father hadn't yet returned from his job. There was a little procession in the capital today, and even if the palace guards could get a hold of everything themselves, there was never enough security when it came to the royal family. It was the first time in Caleb's short life that he was going to see the royals, even if he was going to do it from a distance.
That was the reason behind his little… 'sword practice'. Maybe if he swung his wooden sword and killed enough imaginary monsters, he could get a job at the palace! Protecting the Queen, or the Princess… no wait, his father had told him, there was no Princess this time. It was a Prince. But, hey, maybe they could become friends. At least that was Caleb's reasoning; the only one that his young mind could provide.
The door of the house made a sound, and Julian entered through it, his hair a little longer than in the present, and his beard not fully grown; only leaving a thick moustache and a little goatee. Caleb threw his faithful toy weapon to the floor and dashed to the arms of his father, who held him in his strong arms and tossed his little body into the air a few times before putting him in the ground again. Julian looked at his son and, making a funny face, put his hands in his hips and said in a playing tone. "I suppose that you aren't going to present yourself in front of royalty with that guise, son"
Caleb looked at himself. A shirt and nothing more, his little body needed nothing else to cover itself up, the clothing completely dusty due to playing continuously. The little man shook his head violently. "No! I won't bathe!" yelled the little kid, knowing where this situation was going. "I will go dusty! It's proof of my battle against the wyvern!" Caleb signaled to one spot of the room where a twisted root of a tree that was shaped like a wyvern had been battled with a wooden sword.
Not even trying to discern from where did his son get a root like that one or how he had been able to put in inside their house; Julian took Caleb and headed towards their bathing room, containing the kicks of protest of his son. Upon arriving at the bathing room, he played smugly. "But valiant warrior Caleb!" said Julian, overdramatizing. "How I'm supposed to defeat the mighty hydra that waits inside this lake if you don't come to my help?"
Little Caleb's eyes flashed with joy. "Hydra?" said the child, not hiding his enthusiasm.
"Yes, and an enormous and fearsome one!" said his father again, putting him on the ground and stretching his arms to clarify to his son how big the monster was.
Holding his little fists into the air, Caleb exclaimed "I will defeat the monster!" and after putting off the shirt that served as his clothing, the little kid jumped straight into the bath, splattering water to every side, including Julian's face. The man sighed and, holding a soap piece with a grip even stronger than the one he used with his sword, he dashed towards his own battle against a monster: cleaning his hyperactive son.
Hours later; that very same day
Meridian's sun was high. The streets of the capital were full of cheering people, all of them gathering in two crowds that lined up at the two sides of the primary street of the city. After all, this was a special day. This was the day when Prince Phobos, first of his name, was going to be presented to the eyes of the common man. Of course, the royal family and the Court had to done the presentation of the currently ten years old Prince in the most bombastic and animated way possible. That was the reason behind this spectacle.
But not everything among the commoners was cheering and enthusiasm upon meeting finally the heir to the throne. There were some that didn't look as happy as the others, or as enthusiastic. There were some ones that looked wary of the people that had to come. That was pretty understandable too. After all, the reason why Phobos was the first of his name was because, in the multiple generations that had composed the House of Escanor, there hadn't been a single male born from a Queen. There had been always princesses, not princes. At least until now.
Some people regarded it as a bad sing. Also, why did the Queen have to name the boy Phobos? That name sent shivers down their spines. It meant Fear, after all. Amongst the ones that thought like that, was Aldarn's father, who was waiting like everyone else, his son next to him, and a softened but persistent scowl in his face. A male Escanor… It wasn't a good thing.
His paranoid thoughts were shattered when he heard a childlike voice behind him, calling his son's name. Down the road were coming both Julian and Caleb, albeit the father holding his composure and the son rushing like a mad horse in their direction.
"Aldarn!" shouted Caleb to the other kid, who responded by dashing to the his friend's side and greeting him with a wide smile. "Hello Caleb!" said the young Galhot child.
Chuckling a little upon seeing the display of the kids, the older Galhot greeted Julian extending his hand, which the bearded man shook strongly. "Hello Julian, how was the bathe?"
"Like battling a hydra, Rhouglar, my friend" said Julian, not hiding how funny his sentence sounded to him in hindsight. Rhouglar raised an eyebrow and was about to ask what did that mean, but Caleb interrupted them with an angry yell. "There was no hydra! Only the enemy!"
"The enemy?" asked Rhouglar.
Julian nodded patiently. "He refers like that to the soap"
Rhouglar couldn't manage it and burst to laughter. Then their conversation was overpowered by the sound of trumpets. The parade had begun.
Knowing that both children were so little to see properly, the two grown men pulled them over their shoulders, letting them sat there in order for them to watch the procession. The first ones to arrive in their sight were the soldiers that composed the Palace Guard and the high commanding. In front, leading the formation were the Captains, Lieutenants and Sergeants. Behind them were the soldiers, the majority of them with flags with the symbol of the Royal Family in opposition to holding lances or swords.
Behind them came a bunch of servants of the Court, throwing flowers to the ground, making sure that not even the feet of the royals' mounts touched the pavement. Interestingly, the one leading them was a brunette child dressed in white clothes that must have been only a few years older than Caleb, maybe 7 or 8 years old.
And then, came the Royal Family of Meridian, the three of them mounted into a roofless carriage that was being pulled by four white horses. In the center of the carriage's seat was Queen Weira, with a beautiful blue and golden dress over her body, a crown decorated by jewels adorning her golden haired head. The most prominent was a big and aquamarine one, held in the center of the crown. It shined with glory. The Queen waved politely at her people, and them waved, cheered and shouted her name back. After all, she was a good Queen, and possibly the best one that Meridian ever had in the throne. Her subjects loved her… well, the most part, at least. Between the crowds, a pair of blue icy eyes could be spotted looking hatefully at her, not even bothering with blinking. The man they belonged to twirled and walked away from the crowd of what for him were just stupid monkeys cheering at a killer; his black hair dashing in the wind.
At the right of Queen Weira, was consort Zedd, her husband and advisor. His body the one of a noble that was more accustomed to fighting in the Court with the tongue that in the field with the sword; his hair was of a silver tone; almost like if nature wanted to emphasize the kind of relationship he had with his wife. Silver always was second to gold. And so the consort waved to the people, but knew and accepted that the cheering and the applauses would never be directed at him in the first place.
And at the left of the Queen, sat down the young Prince Phobos, his mother's gold and his father's silver meeting in him and creating a pale blond hair in his head; his eyes and nose the ones of his mother, the rest almost like his father; his expression the one of an overwhelmed child. After all, it was the first time that little Phobos had been exposed to such an amount of public. Her mother eyed him, giving the boy a reassuring smile. "Wave to the people, Phobos, they are here to see you."
Young Prince Phobos looked at the crowd and started to wave at them; first in a shy manner, then imitating his mother. After a few moments, his eyes met with the ones of an enthusiastic kid sitting in the shoulders of his father; moving his little arms as trying to gain his attention. The young Prince looked at him and then at the boy's father, kindly supporting his son over his shoulders. Zedd never had held him in that manner…
Phobos saluted directly to the kid and gave him the most sincere and happy smile he had produced in all the day. Seeing this, the kid continued to cheer for him, and Phobos' mother gave his son an approving nod. "See?" said Weira. "It's not so bad, isn't it, my little son?" Phobos' cheeks reddened a little with shy upon that remark, but he smiled back at his mother.
The carriage continued forward, the royal family getting out of sight, only leaving the ministers trailing behind them, almost like in a parody of the behavior they sported on the Court itself. But behind them came a lonely, hooded, female and silent figure, riding a black horse. The crowd's cheers almost went silent when she passed by. A few could say that some individuals were e en afraid of her. Caleb and Aldarn didn't know who she was, so they asked.
The one giving the answer was Rhouglar. "That's the Mage; the advisor of the Court in everything that entitles magic, who had been at the aid of the royals since generations. But I think that's everything I (and almost everyone) can tell you about her."
Of course, Julian could and wanted to tell more. He wanted to tell Caleb that that woman was the mother that never was in home, that she was the woman he had been born of, that he should be proud of her and go and jump into her arms. But he couldn't. Caleb wasn't old enough, and the scandal generated from that reveal could be devastating from both Mage and Court. So he kept silence.
Once the figure of the Mage passed away, the crowd started to disperse, some ones following the procession to the festivities like the quartet composed of children and adults was going to do) and some other ones heading back to their houses; but with joy in their hearths.
These were Meridian's halcyon days, peaceful, calm and happy. Sadly, it seems that the world of Meridian… doesn't like peace and happiness the way it should.
Three years later.
Caleb was sleeping when his father busted through the door of his room and awoke him. There could be hear a storm outside, thunder and lightning echoing through the skies. His body, now the one of a seven year old boy; was still pretty tired from that day's sword practice, the toy sword long ago exchanged for one made of iron, courtesy of Aldarn. His friend was improving quite fast with his blacksmith abilities. Rhouglar must been a good teacher.
Mumbling half awaken, Caleb looked at his father, who was putting out of every closet in the house everything that belonged to them. Or at least, everything that looked important. Still incapable of discerning what was going on and thinking of it as a weird dream, Caleb tried to get under his blankets and sleep again. But his father's hand stopped him, shaking the boy violently. "Caleb; Caleb! Quick, wake up!"
Caleb mumbled again, and now knowing that this was reality and not a dream, he sat up in his bed and, after shivering due to the temperature difference, he watched his father with tired eyes. "Dad…?" was everything that Caleb could say, almost jawing. "What's happening…?"
Father looked at son, and for a brief moment Caleb could see the spark of doubt in Julian's eyes, as if the man was questioning himself about saying to his son something terrible or not. The man chose the second option. "Pack anything you judge indispensable an follow me s quick as you can. We are leaving"
"The house?" asked Caleb, getting out of his bed and starting to dress up and pack up everything he deemed valuable.
"The city. It's not safe anymore" answered the man, tossing something to Caleb in order for the boy to put it in his package. It was his sword, the one made of iron. "Hold that thing as close as you can, but don't let anyone to see it."
Caleb took the weapon and, now fully awoken, followed his father in tow. That was a bad signal. His father had never encouraged Caleb to leave the house with his sword. If his father was telling him to do it now… it couldn't be a good sing.
Once everything settled, Julian asked his son "Are you ready?" Caleb nodded, a little afraid of his father's worried expression. Julian put a hand around his shoulders, the other one in the hilt of his own sword. "Don't get away from me; and try to not gain any attention, understood?" Caleb nodded again. "Well, let's go." And father and son busted to the exterior. It would be the last time in years before they returned to that house.
The streets of the city were like hell. There were members of the Guard everywhere; entering the houses of the commoners without permission and by force, tossing aside any opposition and pulling out of them several people. If someone tried to fight back, the guards killed them at once. Blood run through the pavement of the streets, not being able to paint it red forever only due to the rain washing it away as fast and well as it could.
Caleb didn't know what the hell was going on. Every time he tried to spoke to his father, he answered with a "Silence, run quicker" and by urging him to move in a more intense pace. They were moving close to the doors and walls, trying to avoid the principal streets, using in exchange the alleys and back streets. Julian was paranoid; looking at every direction in such a manner that his neck looked like it was going to break.
Out of bad luck, a pair of guards that must had separated from their main crew in order to watch and seek the alleys found them. Julian stopped in his tracks almost instantly, hoping that neither of them would notice his sword in the dark of the night.
"You two!" shouted one of the men. "What are you doing here? Who are you?"
"Commoners, good sir. We're returning to home, the streets don't seem too safe tonight to me" said Julian. "We're just people trying to avoid conflict, we wish no harm to anyone". The guards looked at him and his son, the man incapable of discerning if they believed him, as he couldn't see their faces clearly in the dark. "Please" the man thought. "Please, please, buy it…"
His hopes were crushed when the one who hadn't spoke yet raised his sword, a long and imposing scimitar and charged towards them, at the scream of "For the Prince and the Crown!" Caleb thought that these words were strange and confusing. The Prince? Prince Phobos? Was he behind all this… madness? How? Why? His father, in the other hand, had something closer in both time and space to care about.
He tossed his son behind him and, unseating his sword and holding it with both hands, he jumped in the air and delivered a powerful strike to the guard of the scimitar, who used his own weapon to block it badly, throwing him out of balance with the strength of the blow, and then sending the man to the ground by a kick in the ribs. "Novice" Julian thought, knowing that a full trained guard would never ash into battle swinging his weapon so carelessly and without knowing who he was fighting and what his opponent was capable of. It must have been one of those fresh, new and young soldiers that thought that they wouldn't find resistance this night. Well, they thought wrong.
The other guard was the one stepping into the fight now. He carried a shield in his right hand and a small axe in the left one. This one walked slowly, shield raised and axe lowered to his side in order to block and counter attack with an ascendant move of the weapon. Julian sighed mentally and fell into a more defensive oriented position. This one was full trained and looked experienced… and Julian never was a good fighter against the ones who battled with the left. The two soldiers looked eye to eye, expectantly, letting the drops of the rain to bathe their bodies; the two of them thinking the very same thing. "If I move first, I lose"
Unfortunately, neither of them moved first. It was the guard in the floor who rose to his feet and, this time, attacked not Julian, but Caleb. Seeing this, the father tried to fall back and protect his son, but that produced an opening in his defenses that the one holding the axe used to raise it and attack the man. Julian had enough time to raise his own weapon and block the strike, but was unable to block the blow that his opponent delivered using the shield. "Curse, I can't…" thought Julian with anger, seeing how he was struck in a battle and the other guard going after Caleb.
The scimitar cut the wind and the raindrops as it dashed after Caleb's throat. Took by fear the boy fell to the ground, back in the rained alley, his belongings splattering through the ground. And his sword; his iron-made sword, crafted by his friend, ended by his side. What followed looked like a dream… almost like if time was going slowly.
Caleb reached for his sword, his father still struck in the fight against the guard of the axe. The one holding the scimitar raise it much like Julian had done to attack him, almost imitating his manner, trying to deliver a descendent blow to Caleb's small body. Caleb, not knowing what to do and almost acting by instinct, raised his sword in the incoming man's direction. Neither of them expected to happen like that. The guard, in his rush, had raised his sword so high that defense or redirecting himself at that point was impossible, and impaled himself against Caleb's sword's tip.
The seven year old boy felt in his hands the tension of his weapon while it penetrated the guard's chest. He could feel it piercing through the flesh, the bones and the hearth; and how the tension went down when the sword reached the end of the flesh and burst through the back of the man.
The scimitar hit the ground and blood poured out of the guard's mouth and wound; coloring Caleb's sword in red. A few drops of the crimson liquid dropped in Caleb's face; as he looked up and his gaze met the one of the guard, like it had happen with the one of the Prince years ago. But this time Caleb didn't see happiness; but a mix of emotions that changed so fast that it was impossible to decipher which one was dominating; if there was a dominating one. Anger, confusion, sadness, fear, despair. They danced in the eyes of the man until they started to fade away.
There is an… interesting phenomenon when you kill someone. If you look directly at the eyes of that person, after all the emotions disappear, you can see something. That day, looking at that man's eyes, Caleb learnt what that something was. It was nothing, simple nothingness. The fire that adorns a living being eyes and that sparks and shines with the will to continue disappears, leaving only a dull and darkened mirror in which your face, the face of a killer, reflects and looks back at you. Many people had supposed that this phenomenon is the reason behind civilizations inventing ways of killing people from the far. From the sword to the bow. From the bow to the pistol and other guns. From them to machineguns, sniper rifles, and also bombs that are thrown from planes. And finally, nuclear weapons that can be launched by pressing a button from the comfort of a couch in an office; where you don't have to look at the eyes of the people that you are killing, living beings the same as you.
Caleb witnessed that phenomenon that day, for the first time in his life. And when the body of his dead adversary started to fall to the side, and hit the ground with a plain and low *thum* sound; the boy screamed. Screamed terrified, guilty, angered and devastated. For his entire life he had thought of his first battle as a fight against someone honorable; a worthy opponent, or the killing of a monster that threatened the lives of the innocent. But battles and wars; and the things that happen in them are fairly honorable or clean and glorious. An act of killing, even in hot blood, is something dirty and cruel. You cast an overwhelming shadow over the fire of life of a living being, shutting it down, and with it his or her dreams, memory, hopes and thoughts; wounding your own soul in the process.
So Caleb screamed, screamed almost in shock.
Meanwhile, Julian had been able to take the advantage in his fight against the other guard. Wanting to end the battle as fast as possible, he continued to overwhelm him with rapid strikes of his sword directed to the shield. It was more a fight over physical resistance than one over combat abilities and might. In that moment, the guard raised his shield more than needed, and Julian rotated over himself and directed his sword to the feet of his enemy, severing them. The guard fell to the ground screaming in pain, and Julian, not wanting to prolong the pain, delivered a precise strike to the man's head, piercing it and ended his adversary's life too. Then the man dashed towards his son, who still was screaming over the corpse of the other guard.
Throwing his sword to the ground, Julian put both of his hands in the shoulders of his child, his forehead against his. "Caleb! Caleb! Look at me" Caleb continued to look at the corpse. "Look at me, Damn it!" that gained the boy's attention. Their eyes met and Julian could see in his son's gaze the terror troubling and torturing his mind. "Listen, it wasn't your fault. He attacked you, so you defended yourself. It wasn't your fault." Caleb's eyes tried to go back to the corpse, but his father prevented it. "Keep looking at me. Listen, can you still walk and run?" the child nodded. "Good, then I need you to be strong and kept walking like we have been doing until the guards showed up. We have to leave this city."
Looking gloomy, Caleb rose to his feet with the help of his father and, after gathering their now wet and cold belongings, the pair restarted their march, leaving the only two corpses behind.
It didn't pass long when they reached a little caravan in the outskirts, that even if small, it was quite full of people. Men, women and children, all of them confused, disoriented, but above everything else, terrified. When father and son reached them, Julian put Caleb on the carriage and started to look for someone.
Caleb flexed his knees and enveloped his legs with his arms, in order to both get warm and give more space to the other people. Across the mass of people inside the caravan, Caleb could hear voices whispering ot each other, trying to discern what had happened that night.
"Don't you know?" he heard the voice of an elderly woman. "She is dead."
She? Who was that woman talking about? "No, it cannot be…" muttered another woman, this one sounding younger. "Well, start believing it" said then a male voice, which sounded sorrowful and angry "She is dead as a fish out of water; I saw it myself with my own eyes. The Queen."
The Queen? The Queen was dead? That was… impossible! Queen Weira was the all powerful Light of Meridian, the gentle ruler that cared about everyone. Why was she dead? How was she dead? Who had…? Then Caleb's mind trailed back to the alley, and the words of the guard. For the Prince and the Crown, had said the man he had… killed. No that couldn't be… It was her son, for the love of… But, there was no other explanation…
"I knew it" she heard the same elderly woman voice. "I knew that a male Escanor only could bring disgrace to this land. The Queen should have thrown him out of the window the moment they saw a dick attached to her baby!"
"But, do we really know that it has really been the Prince?" asked then another voice, Caleb unable to discern it as a woman's or a man's.
This time, Caleb opened his mouth. "One of the guards that were in the city… said that they were there for the Prince… and the Crown" and then Caleb fell silent again.
"Heresy!" continued the elderly woman. "That little runt of a Prince is not worthy of any Crown!"
"But… what about his sister? What about the newborn Princess?" another voice asked.
Caleb's attention drifted to that remark. Yes, there was now a newborn Princess… An heir to the throne… was she dead too? Was that the reason behind Phobos actions? Had he wanted the throne so badly that he had killed his own family for it? Were really out there people that pathetic and petty?
"Caleb!" shouted someone. The boy's head looked in the voice direction, and under the rain he saw his father accompanying both Rhouglar and Aldarn; the latter being put in the caravan like Caleb had; just at his side. Caleb and his friend looked to each other, both of them seeing the fatigue in the other one's eyes. Without saying a word, Caleb pulled one of his father's shawls out of the packing and extended it over his and Aldarn's bodies.
Letting the heat of the body of the other to warm them up, the duo started to get asleep quickly, hoping that their dreams could be a peaceful place in contrast with the terrifying night that they had passed.
"Aren't you coming?" asked Julian to Rhouglar. The Galhot shook his head.
"No. I'm a mere blacksmith, I won't be an objective of the soldiers, they are only searching for the ones that are related to the Castle or the Guard… I will stay here and inform you of what happens. Take care of Aldarn for me."
"I promise" said Julian, stretching his friend's hand as a farewell. "Try to not get killed"
"He, I have spent all my life between weapons. Let them and try to kill me if they have enough guts."
And with that, Julian joined the rest of the people in the caravan, and the driver spurred the horses, making the vehicle to move and leave the city, the sight of the castle getting smaller and smaller the more they advanced. But even when the castle was only a small silhouette in the night, only seen by the light produced occasionally by the lightning, they could still heard the screams.
Months later
The past had been better. And the present could be far better, but also far worse. The future was an enigma. That was something that everyone in the camp of that forest knew very well. Even since that faithful night not long enough ago, the ones who were able to escape the city have been gathering into a clearing of a forest, a camp that grew day by day formed with the pass of the days and weeks; that started with the caravan they used to get there and that continued to grow with tent, posts, an even a little vigilance tower bad built over the trunk and top of a tree.
There they lived, the escapees that run from the forces of the Prince. Soldiers that didn't side with the Prince; workers of the castle that would have died rather than serve Phobos' meals; ministers, elders and politicians that, in their hearths, hadn't stopped for serving Weira; and of course there were the commoners, the normal and humble people that either were there just hiding, or had lost someone they cared about during that attack the Usurpation Night, and wanted revenge against the Thief Prince. All of them fairly different between each other, in origin, personality and life; but with a shared thought that echoed with strength in each one's mind and soul. The Prince must go down.
A sentiment better thought than done. Even if their shared will was to overthrown the corrupted Court and depose the Usurper; they were so few… and out of that few, only a 25% had combat and strategic training; and with an optimistic mind, only the 45% of the total could enter the battlefield. And the Usurper, what did he had in his part of the board? An army that, after the purge that the loyalist to him had delivered the Usurpation Night, was now purged of every person that could gather a few soldiers against the him. A Court composed of corrupted ministers and cowardly chief that pledged their villages' loyalty to them out of fear… and some ones out of greed and ambition. And then, of course, there were the rumors… Rumors about a tall blond man that now stood by the side of the Thief Prince; dressed in greenish regal robes. A man who could become an enormous snake-like creature in a blink of an eye and that terrified the hearths of the people and helped having them under control. A shapeshifter.
And it wasn't the only new that entered the ears of the escapees every time that one or two of them visited a village. Rumors about humanoid beast that were coming from the south and that Meridian hadn't seen in more than two centuries were heard too. They were heinous and violent towards the human and the Galhot. And they were many; and also kneeling before the Prince. Lurdens, that's what they were called by the old ones; who only remembered the name from their childhoods' stories.
So, they had, at best, five hundred men ready to fight. Phobos had an army, composed of thousands and that grew day by day by adding monsters and abominations; and also assassins and opportunists to it.
But there was still hope. In small groups, they perpetrated ambushes against the smallest platoons of guards, and the carriages that transported both gold and ministers of the Court. They were small victories, annoying to the Prince at best; but victories after all. And of course, there was the other type of rumors, the good ones.
The wind carried a breeze of hope in the form of a name. Elyon Escanor. Apparently, the Princess had survived the Usurpation Night, and was now being hid in another realm, away from her brother's machinations. If she was still out there, there was still hope for this world. Then there was the rumors that the Mage was also out there, plotting against the Prince, creating spells and formulas in order to weaken the lines of his armies. They were good enough news for a little brunette boy that was about to be eight years old, and that day by day kept practicing his sword skills.
If they had only more members; if the whole population could see what they could do if they gathered forces…
One year and a half later
Almost two years under the tyranny. And the only one that seemed to have got the idea about the tyrant's intentions was Meridian itself. The days were shorter, the nights larger, and both of them darker. The natural, healthy and brilliant Meridian had given pass to a gloom and decaying Meridian, something that Caleb believed to be a reflection of the Usurper's own soul.
Still, very few villages had tried to rise against the Court. And the ones that did were crushed with extreme efficiency. The worst part was that every time less and less villages and towns wanted to raise a fist against Phobos. If they didn't attack him first, there was no retribution, and you only had to pay the exorbitant taxes to the Crown and let the corrupted chiefs of the villages to do what they pleased with the people. So the escapees continued to rob from the Court and tried to decimate the forces of the Prince the best they could.
That day, almost a decade old now, Caleb was supposed to partake in his first battle. It was nothing remarkable; only an ambush over a carriage that contained something special and was being transported directly to the Court. It was an opportunity they didn't want to slip away from their hands. Maybe it was a weapon that they could use against the tyrant.
So, there was Caleb, his father not so much away from him, always worried of this day; and he cowered behind some bushes; a dark skinned Galhot around his age at his right. They waited a little, their breathing sound the only thing that could be heard aside the birds and the insects. Then, the sound of approaching wheels started to resonate over the road. After a few minutes, the carriage and a whole platoon of Guards showed up in the road. It was more company than they anticipated, but it was nothing they couldn't handle due to the surprise factor.
Julian made a sign to a man that was sitting over a branch of a tree, and he shot an arrow to the driver of the carriage, which impacted in the man's head and made him fell dead in the act. One of the guards of the platoon (the one leading it, Caleb supposed) raised his weapon and shouted "Ambush!" but it was too late to react. The little group fell over them like an angry mob of bees.
At first, Caleb trailed back behind the veterans and adults. But then, an attack came from the left, and he stopped it with his sword. It was a guard holding a small lance designed to being held with one hand. He didn't wear a shield or something for protection. An easy one. Caleb started to swing his sword swiftly against the lancer. In that moment, trying to block with a petty lance a sword like the one of Caleb, the guard discovered something. Never judge a book by its cover.
The boy spluttered a battle cry and, with all the might he could master, he swung his sword, breaking his enemy's lance and encrusting his weapon in the man's side. Caleb heard the man's ribs breaking, and also felt how his sword let them behind and continued until reaching the man's stomach. Caleb took the sword back, letting it free from his adversary's flesh. A torrent of blood and intestines followed the retiring of the weapon, and the man hit the ground dead, his eyes deprived of life. Exactly like last time.
Taking advantage of him being distracted, another guard approached Caleb, this one holding a great-sword. The enemy was the first to swung, and Caleb didn't have time to block the blow. So he jumped back. Unfortunately, he landed bad and ended with his back in the ground, is enemy coming with the sword raised up. Just like the last time. But in this one Caleb wasn't the one to give the death blow. The tip of a sword appeared in the man's chest, and Caleb looked dumbfounded how the man fell to the ground, revealing the dark-skinned Galhot behind him, his sword painted in red. He threw a hand to Caeb, and helped him to stand.
"Gorlois" saluted the dark skinned Galhot, giving Caleb his name. "Good grief that I got him, eh?"
"Caleb" presented himself the human. "And I had him under control"
"Sure… if under control means that you were almost a splat in the ground" said the young Gorlois with a cocky and disrespectful grin.
Caleb scowled at that behavior, but dismissed it and looked around. Arrows flew towards the enemy, and the ones in the ground were finishing the platoon quickly. Even if they were less in numbers, they compensated by having men each one of them worth of ten of the Usurper's servants.
The ambush finalized, the group approached the carriage and started to unlock the door, but then something got Julian's attention. One of the guards that were on the ground was not dead yet; and with a smashed nose and a blooded face, he smiled maliciously in their direction. Julian understood what was going on. "No! Don't open it!" shouted the man, but it was too late. The door was opened, and there was no way back.
Something jumped from inside the carriage, straight into the face of the one who just opened it, who landed in his back screaming in pain; but not for very long. Caleb saw then a nightmarish dog holding up his head, a piece of the men's throat in his mouth which the animal proceeded to swallow. Then it jumped and positioned itself at the side of the opened door.
Then followed a step from the dark, and then another. And another one and another one. And then Caleb felt terror, real terror, for the first time in his life. Standing at the door of the carriage, was an imposing man in a typical hunter's attire, even with a pointy hat over his head. But that was everything that could identify him as a man. His skin was green and shagged, almost putrefactive and rotten. His face had his teeth exposed, and his eyes were of an intense red, without pupils or irises… or even sclera. None of them had ever met some of those things, but due to fairy tales, they knew what it was. An undead. It had been a trap from the beginning. The special thing Phobos wanted was in fact a weapon. One designated to kill them when they opened the door, and that had worked smoothly.
The undead looked around. It breathed and a little amount of smoke left his mouth. He then gave another step. And another one; until he descended from the vehicle. In his right hand, Caleb spotted a flail involved in some sort of green energy that ended into a massive mace. "Magic" thought Caleb. "That has to be magic…"
Everyone held their breaths, except for the undead and the dog that accompanied him. Took by fear, the man in the branch shot an arrow into the monster's direction; but it never hit him. The undead raised his arm and caught the arrow with his free hand.
Looking more annoyed than anything else, he moved the greenish flail and directed it fast into the archer's direction. The mace hit the man and shattered both the branch and the archer's body. Then he made his green weapon to come back to him. The body of the archer landed between his comrades, deprived of live.
With an angry shout, the majority of the men charged towards the undead. Not changing his expression (not that he could anyway) he attached them again with the flail, smashing several of them with it. Other ones were able to evade and continued attacking, but then the undead whistled (how he did it without lips was both confusing and unnerving) and the dog jumped again straight into the jugular of one of the men. Julian looked at their remaining forces. This was a battle they couldn't win. The Prince had them there. It was his victory.
"Retreat!" shouted Julian. "Retreat to the woods!" and obeying, the men, including Caleb, started to retreat to the safe of the trees, leaving anything that could slow them down behind. In his mind, Caleb's hatred towards the Prince intensified. He could have sent the undead directly after them, but he had sacrificed all those men just because he wanted to tire them down. Despicable man…
Caleb slowed down for a moment; if they were retreating, where was his father? He looked in every direction, but saw nothing. Then he looked back and saw his old man holding his own against the undead, slowing the monster down. He wasn't retreating.
"Father!" shouted Caleb, trying to run towards his progenitor, but a strong arm held him by the waist and took him in the air, getting away from the scene. A blue bulky Galhot was holding him in his grip and transporting him. Caleb kicked in protest but was unable to free himself. "Let me down! I have to help him! We have to help him! Father!"
The Galhot shook his head. "It's his last order. I'm going to honor it." And with that, he hit the boys head with his fist and put him unconscious, making him easier to carry on. The last thing that Caleb saw before falling to the dark was his father back, and he heard the words "Be strong" directed to him.
Back in the battle, Julian fought against the monster. "Who the hell are you?" asked the man to the undead.
The monster's eyes intensified a little. He then opened his mouth, and a raspy and old voice came. "I'm the Tracker. I'm here to hunt you"
Julian held his sword high, determination in his eyes. "I'm not afraid of you" said the man, prepared to throw his life down defeating the monster.
"Then" said the undead, preparing another blow of his demonic flail "you are a brave prey, but a prey after all"
A day after the encounter with Tracker.
Caleb was having a nightmare. He was a child again, the same child that had battled with the imaginary wyvern. He was now running towards the back of his father. But it didn't matter how much he tried, he couldn't reach it.
Then an enormous hand held Caleb and started to pull him back. "Dad!" shouted the child, tears forming under his eyes. "Come back, I need you!" but Julian didn't listen. He twirled back and looked at his son, blood dropping from his mouth and Caleb's own sword nailed in his chest, just like the first man that Caleb had killed.
"Be strong" said Julian, before an enormous figure with a pointy hair rose from anywhere and, using a flaming flail, killed him.
"AH!" shouted Caleb, awakened and sweating cold. He was in his bed, in the camp. In what only could be described at home. Some say that home is where your family is. Caleb looked at his hand, and then put both of them in his head. He remembered the clearing, the carriage, and the undead.
And of course, his father.
Caleb swiped a lonely tear from his cheek. He had lost him too now. Like with everyone else, the Usurper had taken something from him. Someone entered the tent where he slept. It was the same blue Galhot that had carried him away from the battle. The same person that had honored his father's last request. He couldn't avoid feeling a little hatred towards him, but still he knew that the Galhot had done well.
"Are you awake?" Caleb nodded to the man's question. "Good. There is a very important meeting in almost an hour. Dress up, eat something and come to where the others are. By the way," said the blue man while exiting the tent "my name's Vathek. Your father was a great man. I won't let you die, I promise"
Then he exited the tent, and left Caleb alone. He dressed and took a bowl of hot water and a few scratches of dried meet to calm his stomach. He exited his resting place and started to walk the camp. He could see a sad tone over almost everyone. People had lost loved ones due to that stupid trap. Now that he thought of it, it had been pretty obvious. A special delivery for the prince! What else could have been; a giant signal in which it reads 'FREE MEAT'? Those years without getting caught had betrayed them in the end. They had got confident when they shouldn't have. The Prince was still in a large advantage. Caleb spent his free time walking the camp, trying to see if someone was still able to mile. There was no one.
The time passed fast, and then the meeting started. The one directing it was an elder, an old politician of the reign of Weira. Everyone in the meeting looked desperate and defeated, including him. Now they were even less than two hundred in total, counting women and the few children that were there.
Caleb knew what was coming; they were going to suggest disbanding the company. It looked logical but still… he still wanted his revenge against the Prince, he still wanted justice for the dead innocent. But… they have been nothing more than thieves playing to be an army. When everything started, everyone was hoping that this could have been the start of a rebellion, of a counterattack against the Prince… but with the pass of the years the people had started to feel accommodated with their new reality, some being happier with their new lives as thieves and outclasses than with the previous ones. Now that reality had hit hard at them, their little bubble had blown and exploded. And they were so despaired that they were going to surrender.
But a ray of hope shined into Caleb's life that day. Before the elder could say anything, a figure separated from the crowd and reached the politician, who recognizing who it was, let it to take central stage. Actually, everyone had recognized it. Even Caleb, albeit he had only saw her once so many years ago.
It was the Mage. Casted as always in her black, hooded robe, the aquamarine skinned bald woman spoke to the crowd, not hiding some disgust in her voice. "Many of you know who I am. I could say that almost everyone knows. For the ones that don't, I'm the Mage, and I was the advisor of the royal family of Meridian, until Phobos took the throne after killing his own family, the Queen and her consort. And now, after all these years, I came in search of you, and what do I find? People who are at one step of surrendering to that pathetic excuse of a Prince that this world has. Is it because you have lost people during these years? For what do you all think that they died? They died because they believed that Meridian should be a better place, ruled by someone who really understood how things must be done and that cared about the people."
Upon hearing this, many members of the crowd thought about the lost Princess. No one knew that, in reality, the woman was referring to herself in secret. Still, the speech continued.
"Are you going to left all of them behind? Are you all going to forget about them? You should fight back. Not with some ambushes directed to the weakest parts of Phobos' reign, but as an organized and disciplined army. As a true rebellion against the tyranny."
"Easier said than done" said a man from the crowd, who get a glare from the Mage after that remark. "Uh… I mean, how are we going to do that? We are roughly a quarter of a battalion here, and that's counting women and children. Phobos has thousands of men at his service; let's not speak about his abominations…"
The mage looked at the man for a few moments. "First of all, you should abandon that view about women" said the bald woman. "I'm a woman myself, and I have walked this world for centuries, always at the side of the royal family, which is lead by women each generation. And let's not forget about Kandrakar's chosen ones, who are also women. Second…" the Mage eyes travelled over the entire crowd "what if I tell you that you all could gather more allies? What if I tell you that you could raise an army in par with Phobos'; that the people of Meridian would gather around you and fight by your side?"
"I would ask how is that even possible" said then Caleb himself, separating from the crowd and standing before the Mage herself, eyeing the bald woman. "The people are content with the tyranny, they are either afraid to make a move or stupid enough to think that they live better under the Usurper. So, how do you pretend to gather allies?"
The Mage eyed the little boy. A little smile formed in her lips, who Caleb didn't now how to interpret. "It's not how I am going to do it; but how you are going to do it. It's all a matter of giving the people something very simple… Give them a reason to hate the Prince as much as all of you do. And then, give them something to clench to, something to believe in. That's how you will do it."
The Mage ended her speech with that sentence. The crowd felt silent. True, there was a difference between them and the rest of Meridian. Their reasons for hating the Prince were more personal than anything else. The lost of their titles, houses, families… Phobos had taken all from them, craving the collective hatred in their hearths.
"How?" said then a woman. "How do we do that?"
The Mage eyed Caleb and, albeit directing herself directly to the boy, her words were for all the people gathered there. "Sometimes, you have to do something bad in a small level to get something good in a bigger one" she let those words sank into the boy's mind. "So tell me, boy. Tell me, sons and daughters of Meridian; tell me if you are able to take the necessary step in order to safe your world, in order to regain what had been stolen from you; in order to beat the evil that . Tell me, are you able?"
Caleb pondered for a moment, before looking to the bald woman again. "Yes, I'm able" answered the child. Then the answers of his peers followed his. The answers of Vathek, Gorlois and his long time friend Aldarn; each one of them determinate to do whatever it took, the scars that Phobos' regime left in their souls too deep to be forgotten. The hunger of the young ones, the cries of the adults over the bodies of their beloved ones… It couldn't be forgotten.
The despair left path to anger; the anger to the hate. The Mage rose as tall as she was, his eyes changing color to a green similar to the one that colored Caleb's eyes. Truly, desperate people were the most easy to manipulate. It had been a good idea to wait in the shadows until these men and women broke down. It had cost her lover's life, thought. Now even she had something to hate Phobos for. This desperate and hateful men and women; and her beloved son… they will be the stones she will use to built her stairs to her destined throne. And then, the people of this universe finally would be happy and true peace would reign.
Knowing that these people were ready to do everything that it took in order to beat, Phobos, the Mage looked at them, regaining his usual eye color. "then, if you really are prepared to take that step…" the Mage moved one hand and a series of things appeared by the use of her magic. They splattered across the ground, just in front of the people's feet. They recognized what they were; helmets, armors, plates, weapons, shields; all of them property of the Guard and recognizable as such to almost everyone. The people started to pick them up, Caleb picking an sword that reminded him of the one that he father used to have; the escapees fading away and letting the first and original members of the Rebellion to took their places. "Have you ever heard of Sonder Hill?"
Back on the present day. The times of Queen Elyon.
"Caleb?" asked Blunk to his friend, who had stopped before the door of the Queen's private chambers. He had been there, standing firmly, by various minutes without moving a single muscle; lost in his memories. They weren't good ones; the memories of a child in the battlefield; for they were cruel and depressing. What they did in Sonder Hill in order to gain support for the Rebellion against Phobos haunted him even today. And now he knew who really the person that had encouraged that decision was.
"My mother…" said Caleb, more to himself than to anyone else.
"What?" asked the green dwarf to the young man.
"The one that taught me that sentence, that ideology, about having to sacrifice a little thing in order to build something better… It was my mother. Well, I didn't know it was my mother at that time, but… it was my mother." Caleb looked at the door in front of him and smiled sadly. "The same woman that took a bunch of desperate survivors and transformed them into the Rebels… and manipulated and kidnapped the girl behind this door." Caleb shook his head. "And that still had the guts to tell me that she loved me, and cared for me… And I still don't know if it was true or not."
Caleb made a pause, and this time he looked completely serious. "I always wanted to be a light in the dark for the people, something they could rely upon; but now I reflect in my actions and I find out… that my light burned as much as it warmed. That maybe I'm not that different from my mother, or from Phobos himself… I want to protect the few good things that this world still has, but… I'm really doing it? Take this entire situation with Cedric, for example. I do really want to do justice in my friend's name, or is just a petty vengeance against the snake-man? I don't really know… look at what I did to that man, and look at how I justified it. I know that it isn't right, but still… but still… Aldarn was the first friend that I had, the best one. The one who always stood beside me, that always supported my decisions. He was practically my brother… and I can't stop hating that reptile for doing that to him!" the voice of the young man raised, and then dropped and become silence. Caleb lowered his head and let his forehead to hit the door of the Queen's chamber. Silence took hold of the whole hall, cleb looking at the floor without knowing what to do.
"But Caleb is Caleb" said then the Passling. Caleb looked at him, making his head to tilt in the process. "Blunk doesn't believe that Caleb is like his momma or the mean Prince. Caleb is Caleb, because now he is talking those words to Blunk." The Passling smiled widely, making the young man to look surprised. "Caleb had done bad things… but everyone had to do them sometimes. The important part is that Caleb knows that they were bad things, and doesn't want to do them again. That's the difference between him and his momma. Caleb's momma didn't understand. That's why Caleb is Caleb; he is Blunk friend, as he was Aldarn's. And it's normal for Caleb to want revenge for his friend. Blunk would want to take revenge for him if Caleb was hurt."
Caleb looked dumbfounded at the Passling. He never thought of Blunk capable of such discourses and such encouraging words. Even after all the help he had given to the Rebels, he still thought sometimes of Blunk as someone ditzy… but yet again, life had surprised him in such manners, both good and bad, and this one had to be a good one.
"Thank you, Blunk" said the young man, raising his head from the front of the door. "I really needed that. Can you make me a favor, though?" the Passling nodded. "Good, please go find the man we… interrogated and his companions. Tell them that they will be given compensation and that their leader will be treated in the castle's infirmary. And Blunk" Caleb said to the green `dwarf before he disappeared "if you are able to talk to him in private, tell the man that… I'm sorry, even if I know that that wouldn't be enough to gain his pardon." The Passling agreed and walked in the dungeons' direction. Caleb hoped that it'll be enough to make amends with the merchants. He had let his anger to get the best of him.
Dismissing those thoughts, the young commander knocked at the door. The voice of the Queen came from inside, in a neutral and cold tone, as it was becoming usual. "Come in, the door is unlocked."
Caleb entered the chamber, and saw a sight that he was getting accustomed to too fast for his licking. Elyon sat behind her desk, a legion of papers over it, Irvine at her right, not moving a muscle until the Queen demanded it. A quill pen with the tip wet in black ink in her hand, moving so fast that if someone met her for the first time; could swear that Elyon had been working in an office for her entire life. Noticing who had entered, the Queen rose from her seat, letting the quill pen to continue writting automatically due to a simple and easy spell. "Ah, Caleb. Do you have something to report to me referring to Cedric's whereabouts?"
Caleb tensed his body. "Yes, your highness. Apparently, Miranda has been located around the Mirmirine fields near the city of Carhaiz. If our informant is to be believed, Miranda (and by extension Cedric) would be hiding in a small village not very far from the city. I request permission to move the Elite Squad and purchase an investigation of the place in question."
Elyon pondered a little after Caleb's words. "Carhaiz is my next destination in order to inaugurate a new building… Do you suspect of Cedric trying to attempt something against me?" asked the Queen.
"I hardly doubt it. Even with his new abilities, he must know that he is no match to you. I suppose that's the reason behind him lying low. Still, it will be recommendable to bring more guards with you this time, your highness."
"Good advice" Elyon put her hand in her chin, meditating about her options. "I will give you permission to use your Elite Squad. You would investigate that village while I'm in the inauguration at Carhaiz. That way, if Cedric makes a move I would be near in order to assist you. I doubt that he would be able to fight me back. Communicate this to the ones you are going to bring with you; that's all."
Caleb bowed his head in respect. "Of course, her majesty." Before leaving, Caleb felt curious. "If I may ask… The building in Carhaiz… is it going to be a new factory?" asked the young man. Much to his surprise, Elyon's face lighted up and a sincere and enthusiastic smile appeared in her face. "Oh no" said the Queen into a cheering tone not heard in the palace since months ago. "It's a Military Academy, of course. We can't afford the incoming amount of new cadets only with the barracks at the feet of the castle."
"Why is that?" asked Caleb. Due to the civil war and the Rebellion, very few people desired to join the ranks of the militia.
"Isn't it obvious? It's because of you." said Elyon with a playful smile in her face. "They envy you; they want to be like you. You all are their heroes; freedom fighters who opposed my brother's tyranny and battle his darkness ad lies with truth and justice. I judge very normal an increase in our ranks after that display. Isn't their behavior invigorating?"
Caleb looked at the Queen's smile, for a few moments the only sound resonating in the room the scratching of the quill pen against the paper. "Yes, it is" answered finally Caleb. "Thank you for answering, your majesty; I should leave now and start arranging for our moving to Carhaiz."
"Then go and do so, Captain Caleb." Said Elyon, and the young man exited her chambers. Caleb looked at his hand an clenched his fist. They called him hero, eh? "I never was a hero" thought the young man to himself. "But this is a time as good as any other to start being one" and with that sentence, the young commander get through the castle's lonely halls, with a renovate spirit inside of him, decided to, this time, do things right. To really be something the people can rely upon.
At the other side of the door, Elyon's smile had intensified. But now it looked more like a maniacal and mischievous smile than anything else. "Irvine" said the Queen to her maid.
"Yes, my Queen?" retorted back the woman, devotion sparkling in her eyes.
Elyon went to a closet near the left wall of the chamber and pulled a cloak out of it. The Queen put the cloak on and put the hood over her head, almost hiding completely her face. With a movement of her hand, crown, regal jewels and almost every symbol that marked her as royalty disappeared, her usual braids transforming into a long mane of pale blond hair. She looked like a totally different person. "Take care of all the paperwork that it's left if it isn't an annoyance; I need to… take a walk."
"Of course my Queen. If I may dare to ask her highness, where are you going?" said the maid, taking Elyon's seat behind the desk, a little too much happy that she could sit where her Queen had sat upon.
"Oh, nowhere special…" said Elyon while preparing to teleport. "Just to visit a pair of old friends."
The city of Carhaiz.
Carhaiz was one of the cities that had got out less affected by the civil war. This was due to its… unique characteristics. Not a place of production like Kelliwick, or a place of thought and peace like the churches of the north of the Kingdom; the city had survived due to its own mediocrity.
And of course, the Red Light District. The imposing, classic built houses, each one of them ornamented in a different manner, and always lighted by a bunch of red candles that produced red flames and that made the windows and interior of each one the buildings look like a matured and tentative fruit.
Inside of them awaited a legion of women and men that went from voluptuous and beefy; to flat and skinny. A collection of every savor, put there for Meridian's amusement. Noble or commoner; woman or man, old or young, rebel or guard… every one put their feet inside, a mask over her faces that instead let their real nature to come to the surface while enjoying in the most decadent games that their imagination and flesh were capable off. It was thanks to the Red Light District that Carhaiz had survived so long. Not even the most corrupted or pure of the regimes wanted to dispend of it. There were even rumors that said that, the reason behind Queen Allora never taking as consort the man that had impregnated her, was because Queen Weira was conceived in one of the hot and wet rooms; over one of the overused and dirtied beds. You could even find among the young girls the only ones in Meridian that cried over Phobos' defeat.
Because of those red lights, the city continued… the shadow casted by Meridian's own light. That was why the owners of the housed looked both wary and eager to the new building that rose in the center of the town; the Military Academia that was waiting only for the Queen to open its doors.
Wary because the Queen hadn't (still) proved a big fan of the Red Light District, and the owners were a little frightened of what she could do if she proved to be… puritan. And eager because… well, what kind of owner of a house of pleasure couldn't be eager to have a legion of youngster training all day, sweating, stressing, being frustrated all day; just in front of their businesses' doors? Those youngsters, with the head still to empty and the inside of their underwear too anxious and restless; and their pockets full of fresh money… How could they resist the beautiful red light that shined from the windows? Or how could they resist the marvelous tensed bodies of the fine men? Or the full developed bodies of the women, casted in such uniforms that it looked that their breasts were going to jump from their outfit and say 'hello' to you?
The shapeshifter Cedric was of the ones more akin to the second thought. Didn't the Queen thought about that outcome? Or maybe she was hoping for it to happen? Cedric's animal instincts were telling him that something didn't seem completely well with that building; even more since he had started to absorb more and more energy. There was something casting a disturbing feeling over Meridian, he could smell it in the air. And it was strong in the shadow that the damn construct casted over Carhaiz. It was a feeling so similar to… to… to that think that accompanied Tracker in the Infinite City. But how was it possible? How could be a connection? Cedric had always been an intelligent man, always thinking two steps ahead. Even if something surprised him, he could adapt and take advantage of the situation. His mind trailing back to that macabre spectacle he had witnessed from his cell… and Tracker's taunt at Raythor, that he was sure no one else could have heard aside from the soldier if not for the reinforce hearing he had due to his species natural abilities. "The Court is full of traitors" had said the undead. Cedric's instinct met with his sharp mind, and the answer came to him. Still, it looked impossible, unbelievable. Could it be, that Elyon herself…?
"Cedric, look!" a cheerful voice took him out of his thoughts. He looked back and saw Miranda, flanked by an auburn haired woman who smiled and nodded prideful, arms folded over her generous chest. His beloved was now dressed in a pale blue dress that matched her eyes, looking more natural and more 'free' than with her former attire. Miranda give a few jumps in the air, circling over her, letting the dress to move and show how well it bended to her body. Cedric could see how Miranda's body was starting o develop little by little… well, not that he didn't saw it himself a few nights ago. She looked more radiant since that night. "Do you like it?" asked the young girl.
Cedric smiled to her, his hearth warmed like every time he saw Miranda happy. "Of course I love it. I would love anything you were wearing or doing." Miranda smiled and sprouted a cheerful and cute sound with her throat. Like a laugh that cannot be fully being a laugh because the joy turns it into some sort of scream.
The woman beside Miranda put one hand on her hips and the other over the girl's shoulders. "See? Told you he would like it; little one. That dress is perfect for you. Wait! I know, I know! I will give you a pair of shoes that go splendid with that dress! Come this way!"
The two women then walked off. It was good to see Miranda spent some time with people without having her hide her real nature from them. Almost everyone in that specific whorehouse knew that they were shapeshifters. They had known Cedric for a lot of years, due to him using this building as home and base of operations in his old days as an assassin. Thanks to his extended lifespan, he had met various generations of workers of the pleasure. And he had been always in good terms with the owner of the establishment, a shapeshifter himself, albeit he didn't want the information to run to the public's ears. It would be bad for his pocket.
Moving to one window that led to the house's backyard, he saw Miranda and her new… friend? Company? Maybe distraction? Well they were walking and laughing. If Miranda was happy, he was happy too. He remembered exactly how he had met her for the first time; back in that house over the flower fields… after Kay's death. Kay, his companion and trusted friend, the man nicknamed in the assassin circles as the Great Scorpion. He had hide the existence of his wife and daughter even for Cedric; but not that he blamed him for it. And when he was in the verge of dead, his body crippled by the goons of Queen Weira, he called their names and told Cedric to protect them. An the first time he saw Miranda, in her side form, tears running down her eyes while ripping apart the bodies of the men of the Queen… He felt something jump in his heart. Apparently, those bastards had took ahead of him and get to the woman his friend had loved… and killed her. Kay always wanted to let his wife out of his affairs, but no, Weira hated shapeshifters so much that everyone that related themselves to them must pay as hard as them. Cedric doubted that she had executed Kay for his crimes as an assassin and more for the specie he belonged too. He caught Miranda in her spider form and, assuming himself his snakelike form, he dashed towards the little girl and embraced her, trying to dispel the pain.
And in that place, surrounded by corpse with their entrails painting the flowers, where nothing pure shouldn't be able to shine, the two monsters found each other, a little light in the dark. And for her, it didn't matter what it takes. Obeying the Prince and carrying out his will at all cost; luring an innocent girl to her doom; killing everyone in the way, betraying said Prince, trying to set the whole universe on fire! For her everything is little.
"Cedric" called him another voice, this one masculine, and quite familiar. Ah, speaking of the owner of the whorehouse. A man as tall as Cedric stood now before him. His hair was short and grayish, a thin moustache and a little billy-goat beard of the same color adorning his face. Always dressed in a plain robe of a dark color, his eyes let see ambition and the thirst for control in them. A red account book always in his hands, and a finger missing from one of them, the name of the man was Lot; the owner of the (as he liked to point out) best house of pleasure of the whole Red Light District. "You have a visitor."
Cedric scratched his head and put his new shirt in a better manner. He had ditched away his old clothes. There weren't too indiscreet for his new life. So he had started to wear a plain pair pants and a shirt, his hair let down freely. He looked rather good in that outfit. It was more stimulating to the eye than his old clothes. "And who is this visitor. I don't have to remind you that I'm not going to start to work here for you, so if it's someone that have caught a glimpse of my body and wants…"
"Cedric, it's nothing like that." Lot's eyes showed a little glimpse of fear. Putting a hand on Cedric's shoulder, he both encouraged and threatened him. "I took you in due to our past accords and professional relationship; but the moment that I see that you're not a benefit to me or that you are a danger to me or my employees…" Lot's hand twisted and started to spread black fur over it, becoming a wolf claw. "I will make sure personally that you and your little girl end in the dungeons again"
Cedric's eyes flashed with Quintessence and his tongue become the one of a reptile. "Are you sure that you want to threaten my, old friend?" the pair stood like that for a minute; reptile and mammal. In the end, Cedric deemed that, whoever wanted to meet him, if he or she was able to scare Lot in order to make him to want to battle a man much stronger than him… it was worth a try. It could proof useful and beneficial. And if not… he could kill he visitor and not leave trace. He hadn't consumed vital energy since… well, since he left that village where Miranda's mother used to buy completely dried.
Cedric reassumed his complete human form. "Where is the visitor?" asked the snake-man.
"Waiting in the room I gave Miranda and you." Lot started to walk away, but looked back in a moment. "Be careful."
"Me? Always" answered Cedric, heading for the room the merchant of flesh and pleasure had given to him and Miranda. They had planned to life in Miranda's old house, but… after selling all those objects to those merchants, he knew that it couldn't be too late before the guards tracked them down to that village and decided to attack them, with that Rebel leader (which name he actually didn't remember, was it Corbin or something?) first in line. Well, jokes on them, he had left a little surprise in the village for the ones who dared go search for them there. He could almost see their faces…
He reached the entrance of his room. Generating a little bolt of Quintessence in his hand and hiding it behind his back, he entered it. It was actually a plain room. The more elaborated ones and in which furniture and decoration the money was spent were designated to the customers' enjoyment, so the ones designated for living were just normal. A bed for him and Miranda lied in the floor next to a window, just in front of the door. A little bookshelf rested at the bed's right, lying against the wall; and next to it, a little table with two chairs designated to held meals and readings.
And sitting at the table, was no one else than Elyon Escanor; reading one of his books. Dressed in a dark cloak, and with her hair let free, the Queen of Merdian passed the sheets of the book with quite the amazed expression. She surely was enjoying her read. Noticing Cedric's arrival, the Queen closed the book and let it over the table. "Quite the interesting read. Hello Cedric, how is Miranda?"
Rather than answer, Cedric unleashed the bolt he had conjured earlier and attacked the Queen. Elyon raised an eyebrow, just watching the attack to come at her. "Really?" was the only thing she said, just before the attack hit an invisible barrier and shattered into nothingness. "My turn" said then the Queen. Cedric felt a force striking his body, and next he found himself smashing against the wall. Then Elyon moved her eyes upwards and Cedric clashed with the ceiling. Then the Queen just stopped and the shapeshifter hit the floor.
Cedric looked up and saw Elyon looking down at him. "Come on Cedric, you should know how pointless that was against me. I'm a Hearth; I'm far out of your league, besides…" Elyon's pupils grew and started to cover her irises, and finally her whole eyes, which become a ball of complete blackness. "I'm much more than that now" her voice sounded distorted; hers was still the dominant one, but behind it Cedric could hear and distinguish another four voices, speaking in unison with her. One thing was clear, that wasn't the Elyon he was accustomed to. And it scared him more than anything else he had faced in his entire life. The sensation she irradiated…
The man stood up, and looked how Elyon's eyes returned to their usual form. She cracked her neck. "Uf, I don't usually use that state so easily, you know? It can be really tiring to repress it back in order to look normal again" said the Queen. "So, you haven't answered. How's Miranda?"
Cedric took off from his clothes a little amount of dust. "She is being well; thank you for asking. How have you found us?"
Elyon chuckled. "Because I have eyes and ears, Cedric. And my eyes and my ears have eyes and ears too! You think that you leave my gaze just because you escaped from the Infinity City? How ridiculous, I see everything in this world. You should know by now, that if I didn't allow it, you couldn't have those new powers, and Miranda and you will still be behind bars."
Cedric looked at the Queen. The child he had taken from Earth looked long time gone. Besides him stood something mysterious; much more than a simple Queen or the Hearth of Meridian. It was terrifying. "So it really was you. You were the one who led Tracker into the City… Why tell me?"
"Why do you think?" asked back the Queen.
Cedric stared to her for a while. There were many reasons. A normal person would think of Elyon wanting to kill him not only because he was a criminal, but because what he did to her. But Cedric knew better. It wasn't the first time that an Escanor had come to that building in order to talk with him. "You want me to work for you?" asked the snake-man, quite surprised.
Elyon looked a little disgusted by that remark, her smile fading, and her tone hardening. "No, Cedric. I know that you are not one who works for others; my brother's fate is enough proof of that. I'm offering you to work not for me, but with me; both you and Miranda. I know what you have been doing all this time, collecting more energy by drying up the lives of the people that hurt you and her… But I ask you, then what? What will you two do when everyone lies at your feet and there is no one else around? Is that the kind of place you want to give her? Is that the kind of place you want your children to grow up?"
"You are trying to manipulate me," said the snake-man to the young royal, recognizing an art he had practiced for his entire life "playing into my weaknesses, making me believe that the best outcome for my beloved and I is to side with you."
Elyon clapped her hands, as if she liked the fact that Cedric knew what was she doing. "First, it is the best outcome, Cedric. Second, you wouldn't be saying that if it wasn't working." And, in truth, it really was working. The words of the Queen sank down in Cedric's mind, causing the seed of doubt to germinate inside him. What Cedric didn't really know was why it was working. Albeit he believed that it was the power of the arguments of the Queen (which themselves weren't so far from a truth that Cedric knew real; he really didn't know how to continue after his revenge); it was actually something much more disturbing. Because in the very same moment she gave that powers to Cedric; Elyon planted a little suggestion, not an order, a suggestion; inside the shapeshifter's head; a suggestion that made him more suggestible to her influence, more willing to see things her way. After all, Cedric was a valuable ally, but she couldn't risk for him to betray her. So, instead of forcing him, why don't let the man hel in his own accord?
"For what end do you want to work with us?" asked Cedric to Elyon.
The Queen smiled, seeing how her interlocutor was slowly but relentlessly taking interest. "To create an Eden"
Cedric was quite familiar with the word 'Eden'; he had studied human culture before going there. "What kind of Eden?" asked the blond man.
"An Eden for you, for Miranda, for me and for everyone that is like us" the Queen gestured to the overture over the bed. "Please, look out the window, what do you see?"
Cedric did as told and looked at the streets of Carhaiz. "People in the streets."
Elyon put herself at his side. "Do you want to know what I see?" she started to signal various men and women. "A family head who cheats in his wife because she doesn't satisfy him anymore, and he is incapable of telling her. A minister of my own Court who loves to chase pretty little boys in his room. A woman that goes to the church and that likes to remember everyone around her how morally superior she is to everyone else; but that also loves to have her body impaled from both holes of her body by vigorous and dominating men."
Cedric looked at Elyon, even more surprised after that speech. "I told you that I see everything" she started to move to the center of the room. "I'm tired, Cedric. I'm tired of the people hiding behind masks of nobility and purity when, deep down, everyone is darkness in the end. I'm tired of people unable to recognize the true nature of their soul and accept it. Aren't you the same? Couldn't you have been much happier if you could have said to everyone how much do you care about Miranda? Or walk the streets in your real form? Shouldn't she have been much happier if she had been able to walk to your chambers at night instead of living cold and alone in her own lonely bed because it was 'indecent'?"
Cedric assimilated those words, and thinking back to the first time he had seen Miranda, he made his decision. "What must I do?"
"I need the people of Meridian to feel both despair and joy. I will handle the joy; I need you to handle the despair. So, keep doing what you have doing until down. Kill everyone in your path; love your girlfriend, read your books. The one by John Milton is one of my favorites too. And don't worry to take much effort and overwork yourself. Tracker is also handling the despair part of the design, and I don't like to threat my people as my brother did." The Queen then prepared herself to leave the room by teleporting, but Cedric stopped her with a Question.
"Speaking of whom, what about your brother?" asked the snake-man.
Elyon doubted a little if she should answer. Why not? He couldn't do anything. "I have put my brother up to trial; if he is able to success, he will be the Prince he always was meant to be. If don't, well, I doubt that someone will really miss him… aside from some of the women and their children from here…" And with that, she teleported and let Cedric alone.
It didn't pass too long before Miranda entered the room again; this time with a pair of new shoes that made pair with her dress. She found Cedric putting the book that Elyon had been reading back in its rightful place. Seeing the expression in her lover's face, she approached him and put a hand in his back. "Is everything all right?"
Cedric looked at Miranda. The pillar of his life, his entire world that made the power of two Hearths he once wielded look like rubble compared to a diamond. Putting his arms around Miranda and embracing her, he kissed her forehead. "Better than ever"
"Really?" asked the girl, the most genuine concern in her face letting pass to the most playful of smiles. "Well, in that case… I want to show you something that I learnt today" and taking Cedric by his hands, she guided him to their bed. Making him sit down, she started to pull his pants off. "Miranda, what are you…?"
"You made me feel good the other night" said the girl, taking Cedric's manhood in her hands and caressing it in such a manner that it made it grow hard. The she started to move her hands around it, getting her mouth nearer and nearer to it. Sticking out her tongue, Miranda started to lick it. "Now I want to make you feel good" and swallowed Cedric's penis.
The snake-man moaned. Miranda giggled a little, but the sound was mixed with the slurping and licking sounds. Cedric looked at her, not able to hide the pleasure he was feeling. "How do you know…?"
Miranda took out the penis out of her mouth, a little string of spittle still connecting both. She continued to massage the hard member, while smiling quite devilishly to her beloved. "You have your books… And Lot has his…"
Cedric rolled his eyes. "I'm going to kill that damn dog someday…"
"Oh, are you sure that you shouldn't be grateful for this moment?" said Miranda, putting Cedric's dick in her mouth again, this time swallowing so hard that he couldn't, much to Miranda's joy, suppress a moan.
They continued like that for a time, Cedric's mind focused in how much Miranda's meant to him; completely forgetting about Elyon, their deal, the people he wanted to hurt and kill, and over everything else, about Phobos.
The dungeons of the Infinite City
In the lonely and almost empty dungeons of the Infinity City; now cleared of the corpses resulted from the raid that Tracker and that beast had inflected upon it, something could be heard. It sounded like a cracking noise, like and engine that it hasn't been oiled properly and that rattles. It was the sound of a puzzle box trying to be solved by the hands of Phobos Escanor.
Since the moment his sister had placed that artifact in his hands, he had grown quite obsessed with solving it. He barely slept or ate (not that the food provided in prison would be a missed), incapable of moving from the chair his sister had left him, his hands moving quicker and quicker with every minute that passed… trying to solve the box. In that very moment, the deposed tyrant finally heard a sound from the device.
Stopping the movement of the tips of his arms, Phobos looked in awe how a part of the box rose from its main body. "Finally" thought the Prince, looking how the part that just separated from the main body rotated. Phobos put a hand over the piece, and pressed it to make it become part of the main body again, making it completely different. Phobos looked proudly at it. It had been nothing more than a children's game, but it had been good for killing time. And then there was that strange magical sensation that emanated from the box… and that felt like magic but something completely different at the same time. Phobos calmed down and planned to return to his cell and slept a little… when said no-magic intensified. The box started to glow with a variant of various colors. How was it possible? It was just a puzzle box, just a children game… wasn't it? The glow intensified and Phobos went enveloped by it…
The box was opened, and with it, a door that led to a void without any stair. And Phobos, of the Escanor bloodline fell directly through it.
Unknown location
Phobos fell. Fell and fell without end, in an endless black void that itself lacked any end. The Prince didn't know what was happening or where he was. He only remembered the puzzle box.
Falling through the endless void… Was it so much of a bad idea? If this was his sister's idea of a final punishment for him, it was a very compassionate one. Falling forever instead of being caged forever… It wasn't that bad. Was this the sensation Raythor felt when he was falling through the Abyss of Shadows? It must have been…
Phobos closed his eyes and left the darkness to engulf him. Why did he felt so… sluggish all of a sudden? No, the word wasn't sluggish, it was slothful… even despaired. It wasn't that bad of an idea… sleep without the noises made by his cellmates… or without the fear of an assassin entering the castle and killing him anytime. Yes, sleep…
Phobos awoke, not knowing for how much time he had sleep. Surprisingly, he didn't found himself falling anymore. He was now lying into a floor of cold stone. Getting to his feet, he looked around… and his head almost couldn't cope with what he saw. There were buildings… he himself was in the top of one of them… but they were completely twisted, their stairs and halls exiting the main body of the construct, and going up, down, left and right; connecting them… They looked as if a mad child had been the designer.
And lurking over the structures… there was something. Phobos couldn't reach to see what they exactly were… but saying that they were a legion would be a euphemism. And they were enormous, so big that they dwarfed even the Gargoyles of Meridian. And, for some reason, they were making music. At first it was just a simple humming, calm and constant, as if waiting for something. Then came the song; and the humming let place to a powerful set of strident trumpets, which made the ground tremble.
Sang by four powerful voices, the song was both peaceful and violent, chaotically organized, and so strong that Phobos fell to the ground, hands in his ears, the strength of the sound and the pain that produced making his body agonize.
Albeit the music continued, the trumpets playing now a melody that reminded Phobos of a mocking parody of the ones that his servants played when he walked towards the throne room; the song stopped, allowing Phobos to free his ears. He repented that act the time that he heard the voices.
"The Box; you opened it" said a metallic voice that sounded like an eruption of a full line of volcanoes, like the explosion of a bomb so powerful that it could destroy a world.
"And so, you came here" now it was a female voice, with the most seductive and lustful of the tones; that sounded like an incredible sweet honey… so sweet that in fact it could drive your brain crazy.
"And we came too! For you!" it was now the turn of a male high-pitched voice, that sounded so egotistic that made the voices of the most greedy of bankers sound like one of a saint.
"And so, we finally met, Phobos Escanor, of the blood of the one that the Fourth One once was" the final voice sounded like the one of an infant, but at the same time old, terribly old… and unnatural, deprived of joy or will, like the silent Grim Reaper, that advances slowly but without pause.
Phobos was speechless. In what kind of hell did his sister put him into? "Who… what are you?!" shouted the Prince, terrified for the first time in his life, demanding answers.
"We are who we are. Demons to the ones that walk under the Light, Gods to the ones that lurk in the Abyss. We are the four that reign over the metaphysical and the occult." said the four voices in unison.
"But that's not the question here, lonely child" continued the female voice.
"It was you who opened the Box, and so you have been branded as a potential Hierophant" the metallic voice again, sounding angry at the fact that Phobos had directed himself to them so naturally and without respect.
"And for being a Hierophant you must ask yourself, who I really am? How I came to this point?" the childlike monstrous voice.
"And for that, we must travel! Travel to the past in order to discern the reasons behind your present and the motivations that lead to your future!" said the high-pitched voice, and Phobos saw his surrounding to change and transform.
Now he was in a street full of cheering people. He recognized the street… it was the principal one of the capital of Meridian. "Look, look! Someone is approaching!"
Phobos looked in the same direction that everyone in the crowd was looking. And he saw… himself? Truly, it was him as a child; mounting in a regal carriage for his presentation to the public at the age of ten (as tradition demanded), so many years ago… with his parents, Queen Weira and her consort, Lord Zedd. He saw his young counterpart smile at his mother lovely, and Phobos couldn't avoid feeling a little bit of nostalgia upon that. "Mother…"
"What a happy and exemplary royal family! An honorable husband, a responsible and lovable mother and Queen! A good and innocent Prince! Truly an example for the common man of the street…" continued the high-pitched voice, the only one speaking right now. "Only if you look from the outside, that's it. But we know better, don't we Phobos? I bet that if you could freeze time in the moment your mother gained that smile from you, you could do it, even if it meant to not advance anymore. Now, let's take a look… from the inside!"
And like that, the procession (or more accurately, its image) disappeared in a mass of smoke, and the scenery around him changed again. And Phobos found himself in the interiors of the castle, that very same day, after the parade. And he saw himself again, this time in his feet; the little Prince Phobos, no taller than an indoor plant. And the older Phobos looked at his younger self, forced to do something that he detested. He was forced, upon seeing his young image, to remember.
"Ah yes, memories of childhood can be so cruel sometimes…" continued the high-pitched voice. "The moment the parade ended, the charade fell too. And you found yourself, just like so many times that counting them will be pointless, alone, alone in the baste dark halls of the castle… your mother too busy with the Court, and your father… well you sure know by now, don't you?"
Yes, Phobos knew, after all those years… that Zedd meant no harm, but he still didn't care in the slightest. Not for him, not for Weira. It wasn't surprising, although .People like Zedd, consorts of the Queens, could be just of two types. Men who truly loved their wives and really wanted to be with them out of devotion and love; or men designated to the task of helping to continue the royal bloodline by lying with the Queens. Zedd belonged to the second group. It wasn't expected for him to care about… Even if it hurt little Phobos, grown up Phobos couldn't blame his father for not caring for a life that he just saw as a work.
Phobos hated remembering this. He looked at his younger self and he saw everything that he never wanted to be now. Weak, hurt, sad… but content with it all, like a prisoner that has accepted that his fate is the gallows, and walks to his death with a sad smile and saying 'It's not that bad'. Pathetic, a human, much more an Escanor, must be defiant and prideful. This ridiculous version of himself… Phobos could barely repress the urge to punch his little counterpart in the face.
"What a lonely child… no father, no family, his mother only being able to be with him in official meetings and when she sneaked into his room when he were asleep and gave him a goodnight kiss." Phobos looked down upon this. If there was someone that he didn't like to think about, that was his mother. Not after what he did… "But wait!" said the high-pitched voice again. "Does the little Prince have friends? Yes, yes he does! Look, here comes your friend!"
And from the corridor, the sound of running steps came. Little Phobos waited patiently, until the steps sounded just behind his back. Then, someone putted a pair of hands over his eyes, and said in an utterly playful and friendly tone. "Guess who?"
Little Phobos smiled, but the face of older Phobos was a mix between surprise and terror. The voice that had asked that question to the little Prince belonged to an auburn haired boy just a little younger than little Phobos himself. Dressed n a white robe that marked him as one of the servants of the castle, it was the same boy that was leading the servants in the parade.
"Galahad!" exclaimed with joy little Phobos.
"Galahad…" whispered the older one.
"Galahad, Galahad…" continued the high-pitched voice while little Phobos turned around and started to talk and laugh with the other child. "He was your only friend, right? The only one you could trust! The only one you could care about, because he was the only one that really cared about you! And you must remember that, in this very day, it was that caring that lead to his end!"
"Hey, do you want to see something incredible?" asked Galahad to little Phobos.
"I really shouldn't… Mother had said that I had to wait until her meeting with the ministers ends…" said the little Prince.
"Oh, come on Phobos, it's not going to be something dangerous!" encouraged Galahad. "I just want to show you something. Let's go to the gardens, I promise not to tell the Queen, so…?"
Little Phobos hesitated for a moment, but he wasn't able to say 'no' to Galahad's brilliant eyes. "Well, I will go, but it must be a secret: No one must know."
"Yay! Come on, come on! Mine is a secret too, one that I'll only share with you!" said the auburn haired boy, taking Phobos' hand and starting to pull him to the gardens.
Older Phobos tried to put himself in their way, stop what they were going to do, but it was useless. The pair of children passed through him like he was a ghost. "Of course, this is nothing but a memory" continued the high-pitched voice. "Nothing but a record of the past… And so, you cannot change it. No! For is it impossible for a human to change what it is already done!"
And the scenery changed again; and now older Phobos was standing into a balcony of the castle that provided with a sight to the gardens. From the balcony, older Phobos saw his younger self and his old friend… just about to make the decision that changed their lives forever.
Older Phobos looked at the pair, playing and falling in the flowers of the garden. A nostalgic smile appearing in his lips, even if he knew what was to come. He saw, not moving a muscle, how Galahad let electricity run through his body, and how his arms started to shift into wings, his head into the one of a bird, is mouth into a peak, and his feet into talons.
In front of young Phobos was now a giant majestic auburn pigeon. The little Prince looked at it amazed. "So?" asked Galahad, his voice sounding just a little different from the one he used in his human form. "What do you think? How do I look?"
Little Phobos had nothing else to express, except for a single word. "Beautiful"
The giant pigeon laughed, and so did Phobos; the power of a brilliant friendship that burned away the troubles and loneliness of the Prince's soul. But, like earlier said, Meridian seems to be a cruel world.
"Yes, it's true. You trusted him, you loved him, and so, you promised not to tell anyone of his secret. You knew of your mother's hatred for the Chimera, so you disobeyed her for the first time in your life… out of love and friendship… Now, would you kindly turn to your left?"
Older Phobos did as said and noted that someone was at his side. He recognized the figure. He had hated it one of the most, having seen her ruin much of his plans during the civil war. She was cloaked into her usual black cloak and hood. "The Mage…" whispered Phobos.
"Wrong! Try again!" said the high-pitched voice; making Phobos realize who the woman really was when a mischievous smirk appeared in her face; product of the scene she had witnessed in the garden.
Phobos scowled with hatred. "Crossnic" said the deposed Prince with the most hateful of tones.
The high-pitched voice emitted a sound that, to Phobos, sounded a lot like a chuckle. "I always found it funny, humans are the most weak sentient species out there; such sort lifespan, born without magic… and yet, just a spiteful and pathetic woman! Not good enough to even be a tool of Kandrakar! That was the only necessary thing in order to bring this world down!"
Te scenery changed again, and now it showed little Phobos, walking down the stairs that lead to the dungeons of the castle, by his mother's hand, no less. The Queen went to him and brought him out of his boredom by forcing him to come with her. At first, little Phobos was overjoyed for passing time with his mother, but then he saw her expression. It was harsh and cold, almost like she was a totally different person that her usual self.
"Faster, my son" said the Queen pulling stronger from Phobos, almost making the little Prince to fell.
They finally reached for the dungeons, and in the very exact moment his younger self, guided by his mother, was forced to look inside one of the cells, older Phobos couldn't contain himself anymore. "How can you do this?!" said the deposed Prince to the image of his mother, who clearly, couldn't hear him. "That's your own son, who loved you, worshipped you! How could you do something like this to…?" Phobos' rant was then interrupted by his younger self's scream. "NO!" heard the older Phobos from the cell. And looking in that direction, he saw something that he had tried to forget for so many years… with no result, always hunting him in his nightmares, from the deepest corner of his mind… that image.
Chained and hanging from the ceiling of the cell, his arms up, and his body full of lashes and other wounds; was Galahad. Blood was dropping from his mouth and eyes… no, after looking better at it, little Phobos aw that one of his eyes was in fact lacking. He looked beaten, weak… terrified.
Weira made her way inside the cell, and snapping him fingers, he threw a bolt of pure light to the chained child. "No! Stop!" yelled at her little Phobos, pulling from her robes, trying to take her way. Weira dismissed this, and taking Phobos from the arms so strongly that it hurt to the boy, she made him look into Galahad. "Look, my son."
Galahad twirled in pain, and much more like in the gardens, he began to change. But while the transformation he had shown his friend had been majestic and elegant, this one was messy, painful (it was being forced upon him) and dirty. Both Phobos-es could see how Galahad's limbs twirled and transformed against his will… so unnaturally in contrast of how they had done in the gardens, than a few of the little boy's bones pierced through his skin and flesh, appearing in the surface of the body.
In the end, the thing that remained was a deformed version of the majestic auburn pigeon. His body badly damaged, one of the wings completely broken, the chains unable to support the extra weight, they broke and the body fell to the ground, Galahad not able to gather strength enough to even scream, simply gasping for air.
Weira held Phobos strongly, not letting him to go aid the bird-child. "This, my son, look at it. This is a shapeshifter, not a human, not even a Galhot…" Weira's voice sounded full of contempt, the Queen unable to hid her sentiments of anger and despise for the entire race of the shapeshifters. "Monsters that lure the people into thinking that they are the same as us, but they aren't… The only think that you can expect from them is lies and betrayal."
"That's not true!" yelled again the little Prince. "He is my friend, he is good with me! Isn't he one of your subjects too? You should take care of him!"
A hand slapped little Phobos' face, so strongly that sent him to the ground. Looking up, his hand in his reddened cheek and his eyes starting to cry out, he saw her mother looking down at him… with the angriest expression he had ever seen in her face. "Shapeshifters aren't my subjects; they are animals playing to be people. And if you think that they are your friends, then you are a failure as my son. Now, if you want to redeem yourself…" Weira moved her hand and materialized a little rapier at Phobos' side. "Then kill him, and become worthy of being my son again."
"Kill him?" though weakly little Phobos; but still, he stood up, and taking the rapier in his hands, he approached his fallen friend. He saw the poor thing, and in that moment, time stopped. A million thoughts passed over his mind: Kill his friend, kill himself, kill his friend and then himself… Kill his mother. But then he saw the eyes of the fallen Galahad, looking at him, with a simple invitation. "Do it, Phobos, is not important" said those eyes. Phobos held the rapier, and pointing it to Galahad's throat, he started to puss it down his flesh. With each centimeter he advanced, another tear appeared in the young Prince's eyes, and another little bit of his innocence died within him. When the weapon finally pierced through the whole bird-like body of Galahad, the boy exhaled his last breath, and reverting to his human form, he died.
Weira came to Phobos side and kneeling, he washed his tears away. "See, that's what you are mean to be, my son, my child. Do you know what Phobos means? It means fear, a fear that you, as my first child, must inflict upon the hearts of the shapeshifters, monsters that broke my perfect world. That is why you exist, Phobos, my champion. You did good with this one. You have earned my trust. Feel proud."
But Phobos didn't feel proud. The only thing that he felt was revulsion, both from himself … and from his mother.
"Yes!" said the high-pitched voice again. "In that very moment and place, where the prayers of your mind couldn't reach a voice, your innocence and love for your mother died with your friend! And after that, the only thought that troubled your mind, the only reason for your existence, was to take revenge for what had done to your friend! But you didn't know how to do it! Until that fateful night, when your own sister was born, and the godlike power that you mother possessed passed down to her!
The scenery changed again, and now it was starting to show images at full speed. The body of little Phobos growing and changing, and also the belly of his mother inflating more and more; until finally, the scenery settled and older Phobos saw again his younger self, now fourteen, walking decidedly towards his mother's chambers, only some cries of a baby resonating through the halls. Accompanying him was a Galhot that had earned recently a high commanding title in the militia thanks to him. And so, the soldier had bow before the Prince and had sworn loyalty only to him. His name was Raythor, and Phobos was going to make him the pillar of his ascension. Upon reaching the door of the chambers, the Prince directed to the soldier. "Wait here, Captain"
Phobos entered his mother's chambers and saw her, dressed only into a white gown, a little bump of white towels in her arms. As always, Zedd was nowhere to be found. Approaching her, Phobos knew that it was his sister, just born that night. Thunder and lightning could be heard from outside the castle, the raindrops hitting strongly in the crystals of the windows. "How is going she to be named?" asked the Prince.
Weira smiled proudly, not taking her gaze from her newborn daughter, who now sleept peacefully. "Elyon, she will be called Elyon."
Phobos looked at the baby, his sister, and then back to his mother. "And what does that one mean?" asked the boy for the baby's name meaning.
"The Most High; the woman who will be at the top of our kingdom, the Queen that will purge all the monsters and bring order to the people; the Light of Meridian, that's my daughter."
Phobos sneered at that sentence. Even after all he had to suffer, in the end, the one to reign will be just another Queen… or so it seemed. "Can I take her just a little, mother?"
Weira smiled confidently, thinking that her son just wanted to hold his sister a little. Upon depositing the baby in her son's arms, baby Elyon awakened. The little baby girl mumbled a little and then started to make movements with her little arms that Phobos interpreted as the form in what babies stretched themselves. At first, Elyon seemed a little disturbed to be in the arms of someone that wasn't her mother. But, when her blurry eyes took note of Phobos' silhouette, she giggled (or produced a sound very similar to it) and fell fast asleep again. After all, she was a baby. "See? She likes you" said Weira, but Phobos doubted that was the case. He supposed that, due to the similarities between him and his mother, the bay's undeveloped eyes had mistaking him for her.
"Can I put her in her baby crib now, mother? You seem like needing a rest" stated the young Phobos.
"Yes, do it" answered Weira. Meanwhile Phobos was putting Elyon in her crib, Weira closed her eyes. "Yes, I deserve a very good rest" starting to fall asleep, an image of her son and daughter, in the future, her in the throne and him besides her started to appear in her mind as she fell asleep… just before a indescribable pain pierced her hearth and made her totally awake. Over her body stood now Prince Phobos, her own son; after impaling his mother with a rapier and currently twisting it slowly, in order to inflect as much pain as he could.
Phobos looked at his dumfounded mother with a harsh expression, continuing to twist the weapon in her hearth. "Do you recognize this one? This is the same rapier I killed Galahad with. The same one that I have used, over this whole four years, to kill everyone you deemed 'impure'. Which is what I'm doing now, mother. Now that my sister is here, you have no hearth of Meridian inside you. Just a normal human being; and you want to hear something funny?" Phobos got close to her mother's ear, leaning over her, her life almost gone from her eyes. "A shapeshifter would survive this kind of wound; a human won't"
And with that, the young Prince stopped to inflict pain and simply pushed the sword forward, piercing not only through her mother, but also the bed she was in. He then directed himself, to the crib his sister was sleeping it, and lowered his hands towards her throat…
"This is the turning point, isn't it?" the high-pitched voice again. "If your sister had died, since you are the last Escanor, male or not, the power of the Hearth of Meridian would have passed down to you…" then Phobos put his hands in baby Elyon's throat… and she emitted the same giggled-like sound as before, and young Phobos only was able to put her blankets well and get away from her. "But you couldn't! Even after killing your own mother, you saw your sister and thought not only that she wasn't guilty, but that maybe, if educated by you she could be better than Weira, and a true family for you!"
"I was stupid then," said older Phobos, retorting to the voice for the first time "weak, too much emotional… I didn't think straight. If I knew ack then that it could have been so easy…"
The high-pitched voice started to emit a series of shrieking sounds, to finally burst into the most maniacal laughter that Phobos ever had heard. "Ihihihihihihihi! Is that so?! Well, why don't we wait and see?!"
And the older Phobos saw his young counterpart exiting the royal chambers, and directing himself to Raythor. "Captain, have you gathered all the soldiers loyal to me and identified the ones that will remain loyal to my mother without attending to reason?"
Raythor made a little bow to him. "Yes, sire."
Phobos made a gesture with his hands, pointing onwards. "Then arrest them all" said the Prince with coldness in his voice.
"And if some of them resist or their families try and defend themselves?" asked the soldier to the royal.
"Then… we have no other choice as to kill them, Captain. I have put you at the front of my men. Don't disappoint me."
Raythor made another bow, this one considerably more pronounced. "Never sire! For my honor!" and the Captain dashed forwards… in a few hours he will unleash a living hell upon the city. And young Phobos returned to the chambers.
To find them empty. He looked around, looking for his sister, but the baby crib was empty, no trace of the little one to be seen. "Where is she?!" shouted the young Prince. "WHERE IS SHE?!" his eyes were red with anger, and in that moment, his power of magic siphoning awakened, driving away the life of every plant in her mother's chamber, leaving only dust and a stronger young Phobos behind. Older Phobos looked at this and remembered how good it felt to drain a living thing of energy in the first place.
"Ihihihihihihihihi! So that's it after all!" mocked the thigh-pitched voice.
"What do you mean?!" said the deposed Prince.
The scenery started to crumble around him, ruble falling around him, albeit the image of his younger self didn't notice. "All the gathering of power, all the ambition, all the conquest, victories and loses! They were just in order to make you feel better…" the world made of memories crumbled down, and Phobos fell again in the dark, the last thing that he could heard before abandoning his past was the high-pitched voice. "Just bury your weak, human soul! WHAT A PATHETIC EXCUSE!"
When Phobos fell again against the cold floor of whatever place he had been since he solved that damned ox, he let the words of the voice to sank into him. Was that really true' All of that, had been just to feel better? No! That was impossible, he was Phobos Escanor! He was the rightful ruler of Meridian! If those peasants had just listening to him! If Kandrakar hadn't rise a Veil around his world…If his sister hadn't disappeared… If only his mother… He was the only one worthy!
"Please, don't lie to yourself, it will only embarrass you" said the metallic voice. "Our brother has hit the center of the bull's-eye with you."
"This is the truth of who you are" it was now the female voice. "The reality of your own self: just a child demanding attention and love. If your true nature wasn't that…" a new window appeared in the air, this one showing Phobos' first meeting with the teenage Elyon, not so many long ago. "You would have killed her the first time she appeared before you after all those years, or cut her cute little head off when you drained her for the first time. But you didn't, instead playing that charade of a happy life you designed to deceive not only her, but your lonely hearth."
"So! Now that we have revisited your past, and know what your present is built upon, it's time to move to your future!" said then the high-pitched voice. "Ohm! Is it time; time to make the question!"
The sound of the trumpets went completely nuts, shaking the weird structures that composed the location. The things that lurked over the deformed buildings become clearer, and Phobos took a glimpse of them. They weren't only enormous, but almost without a clear form, too many tentacles coming from them, too many mouths, too many eyes. They looked like even more monstrous versions of the beast that had followed Tracker to the Infinite City.
Then, at the music's compass, four enormous shadows that dwarfed even those creatures raised from the dark. One looked like a muscular man in an armor; other one like a curvaceous woman; another one like a tall, skeletal bald man; and the last one had the figure of a child. It was this last one the one that spoke. "Phobos Escanor, of the blood of the one that the Fourth One once was. Tell me, and tell us. What it is that you truly desire?"
Phobos went to the ground, kneels in it. This was the reason he hated to remember. Those… things were right, and he couldn't deny or lie about it, because he was pretty sure they would know. So he stayed in the ground, looking at the never-ending shadows that composed his interlocutors. Was his sister put through this too? Was that the reason behind her having that puzzle box? Did she answer that question too?
Tears down his eyes, the pathetic Prince of Meridian make his decision, the cage of lies he had caged himself into falling apart, the first time in years to sincere himself, with the most glorious of monstrosities as witnesses. Phobos get to his feet and, facing the four shadows, he said.
"I want to be loved"
The four shadows emitted a sound, and from them, tendrils burst towards Phobos, piercing each one through his body, and engulfing his body in the dark. Phobos felt an unbelievable level of pain that passed by his body… but that ended up feeling good at the end, his body shape changing, his bones and muscles reorganizing themselves under his skin, some of them growing, some others decreasing. And in that cocoon of darkness, Phobos saw Elyon again. In the end, the only person who really cared for him.
The four voices sounded yet again in unison.
"The branded one as a potential servant and priest, he now becomes a fully fledged Hierophant, a champion of Desire that now is rebirth through the power of us Four and the Abyss itself! Arise, Phobos of Meridian, the first of your name. Arise, and forever and ever…"
DO WHATEVER YOU WANT
The world of Meridian. The chambers of Queen Elyon
Elyon was currently coming from one of her baths. She had to admit, these were fairly relaxing. After all the day's hard work, she really needed those. And Irvine wasn't that bad massaging her shoulders. Maybe she should give her a raise.
Clothed in nothing more than a bathrobe, she jumped straight to her bed, landing with her butt in it and making the furniture to tremble. Tomorrow was the inauguration in Carhaiz, so she must have some sleep. Oh, what the hell, how could she sleep. She was just too much exited for it! And of course, she had felt it too, the appointing ceremony being completed.
The Queen crossed her legs, and, still sitting in her bed, she smiled cheerfully. "I know that you are there, big brother. Come, I want to see you."
Out of the shadows of a corner, Phobos appeared in the room. But his appearance was so different that, if she hadn't been aware of his change, she could have mistaken him for any other person.
For starters, his hair was considerably shorter, and albeit still long, it only reached halfway his neck, and was also considerably spiky. His goatee, in the other hand was larger than before, almost reaching halfway his neck. His body was considerably more muscular than the toned but skinny Prince left in the dungeons; now the one that would make the minds of some models minds full of envy and the eyes of some women flash with lust. His clothes had been replacing with a dark long-coat of the same colors of his previous regal robes; and now sported a pair of trousers very similar in color to his hair. The most interesting add to his attire were the pair of metal gloves that covered his hands and that reached almost to the end of his mid-arm. They were of a brilliant golden, and ended in pointy and sharpened claws. He was holding the puzzle box Elyon had handed to him previously. He deposited it gently over the Queen's desk.
"I believe this is yours, sister" said the Prince, his voice sounded more mature. Now that Elyon looked a t it, his whole body looked older, like a man in his late twenties, almost in his thirties. "It was quite… enlightening. So, how do I look?" asked the Prince, holding his arms opened.
Elyon didn't move from her seat, but smiled sincerely and warmly. "You look far better than before, big brother. It really suits you. So, what are you intended to do, now that you are freed?" asked the Queen.
Phobos did then something that no one in the whole universe would have expected him to. He kneeled before his sister, an arm over one knee and the other in the ground, his head bowed. "I know I didn't behave as how I was supposed to behave" he started "but I would like to make amends with you, Elyon, and finally be the Prince this world deserves, and the brother you ever needed. That if, of course, you accept me. Not as a fellow Hierophant, but as family."
Elyon descended from her bed and, putting his hands upon Phobos' cheeks, she made him raise his head to eye her. Her eyes became as black as they were when she had faced Cedric, and she smiled upon him. "How could I negate someone who just tries to redeem himself at my eyes? Of course that I will accept you, Phobos, my brother, of the same blood as I am" Elyon put her forehead against her brother's, her eyes as black as an endless night eyeing his, that now were of a potent golden. "I love you"
And like that, the two Hierophant siblings stood for awhile, almost embraced, the dream of having them together that Weira had in her deathbed finally becoming true… albeit in such a different manner as intended.
So I have a golden hearth. Now only needing the voice of the master. Never feel anger, never grown older. My dream was to be a star in a real puppet show. The boy who wanted to be a real puppet; Sonata Arctica.
A/N: There it is… FINALLY! Is really this tiring to write so long chapters? Whoa, writers deserve much more credit for what they do… So, this was the first Meridian Interlude, which allows you all to know my version of the origin stories of both Caleb and Phobos, children forced to become what they are by their circumstances… and their mothers. Now, I tried to make both back-stories believable and show what were the reasons behind the paths they decided to follow long ago, and what their motivations were. Also, I wanted to set both Phobos and Caleb as people that are very different, but similar in so many ways. And no, I'm not going to show anyone the exact images of what happened in Sonder Hill until the right time has come, because I intend to use those images to lay a very hard blow to the ex-rebels and to Meridian in general. If you put off the pieces, you will guess what happened before I show you. And, as for Queen Weira's behavior, every fanfic that I have read that had her in it portrayed her as a paragon Queen that loved her son, her husband, her world and everyone on it… and sorry to the fans of her in that nature, but… HEROES AND PARAGONS doesn't exist in this fanfic, or at least, aren't going to be common. Hell, the nearest things we have to a hero are the Guardians and I'm going to take care of that in latter chapters.
Next, our little glimpse into Cedric's and Miranda's… couple life; serves two ends. One, show how, even as monsters (hell, albeit in self-defense, Miranda killed a bunch of people as a fucking kid) they love each other from the bottom of their hearths… but it's still pedophilia. Think about that during Miranda's blowjob! Second, it serves to show how much Elyon has evolved in the 'dark side' direction. She is now cunning enough for knowing that, if wanting Cedric in her side, she has to let rid of his 'Starscream' tendencies, so how does she this? Mindfucking him at the same point she gave him those powers and playing in his weakness, his love for Miranda. Also, note how Elyon says to Cedric that no one will miss Phobos if he dies, but when the now Hierophant Phobos (who's new appearance is a shot out to Estarossa of Nanatsu no Taizai) bows before her and says that he wants to stay; she said that she loves him. So this chapter wasn't only to show Caleb's and Phobos' pasts; but also to set Elyon as THE villain of the Meridian Interludes. We will find out why she is now like that in the third interlude, I think. Oh, and if you are a fan of Game of Thrones, you must know on whom I based Lot.
And that's all. I hope that you all understand my reasons to play these characters this way. By the way, the quotes for the songs are each one for Caleb and Phobos; respectably in that order, the one from Heavenly for Caleb and the one for Sonata for Phobos. They are meant to show and summarize how Caleb's and Phobos' characters work in this fic.
So, the second Meridian Interlude will come after the next pair of Riddle Arc chapters; and it will be called 'The Hunt'. Until then, enjoy the next chapter, A Christmas Carol.
Have pleasant days and nights.
