A/N: Hello dearies! It seems I have a very late update isn't it? *insert nervous chuckles*
Sorry for the longer than usual wait, the past few months have really just flown by. You know, tick tock darlings and all that stuff! But...I have been working on my writing skills. In fact, I have dedicated a lot of time to it (*secretly eyes the creative pieces for my English class/mock exams* Yes, I am proud of them :I). So...here's the new addition and hopefully it's as wonderful (or even better) than usual!
Also, thanks a bunch for the constant support and reviews! They all really do help with motivation, and knowing that someone genuinely enjoys my writing is like being told you can have ice-cream for breakfast as a kid. So thanks everyone, a lot, a bunch, more than I can ever truly say. Also we shot past 19k total views! :O
CarBarrier - I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Your reviews always put a smile on my face :)
Darkjuliet444 - Thanks for the review! As always they put a huge grin on my face. Per the routine, I have points! Point 1: I'd say the kid Sins definitely have their own little skills. Point 2: Merlin and Escanor would most likely have Arthur secretly take note of their well being. He's just that sorta person. Point 3: Oh there will definitely be side effects for the different races. I have all the trouble saved for later on. Point 4: As you said, most of the Commandments will be quite simple. Gloxinia, Drole and the two brothers were a doozy to plot plan for. I have a HUGE scheme set up for those four ;)
Stormaqua33 - Thank you for the lovely review! I'm glad you liked the entire story. And yes, Elizabeth does remember. This chapter is a major plot-change.
Till next time,
D.L.D
P.S. I am now on Wattpad! I've been cross-posting some stuff but I'm also posting original stuff on there (eventually). So if you're interested search DramaLoversDream513 :I
The hall was bustling, bursting, people milling about with different purposes and intentions while also passing small snippets of idle gossip. Maids bustled about with sashaying hips, carrying towels and rolls of bandages to the magicians and medics on duty. They sauntered and giggled, passing a few pieces of snipped words before hastily rushing towards the awaiting professionals. The professionals themselves were rather merry, albeit also work-focused. They drifted from patient to patient, easily working with whatever injury or problem they encountered with the good news that spread like wildfire over the people.
It was such a great thing, such an infectious news, that even the injured men, women and children who were sprawled about on hastily set up cots and benches were glowing. Be it broken bones, a scar that would never heal, even limbs that had to be amputated, nothing could ruin their chipper moods. They all chattered and laughed, cheered and celebrated, remaining chipper as others or they themselves examined their grim states. A stark contrast from the panicked beings they had been during the day.
Even the few knights who were scattered about (to keep the peace and also protect everyone inside) were high with merriment. They all basked in the warm glow of the joy of Camelot, savouring the sweet feeling of victory over Galand of Truth.
However, that didn't take away from the reality of the situation. It didn't take away from the fact that people were missing; everyone who was healthy and well-off had been stationed within the remainders of Camelot to aid and direct the returning evacuees. The deaths of others still lingered as a bitter aftertaste, a foul thought, as the survivors reveled and began to hand out rounds of drinks and food.
But right now it wasn't as morose as it could be; right now was a moment of joy, a moment of victory, and so the people of Camelot lived within it. They breathed it.
All except a certain mage.
In the centre of this plane of chaos, this pure state of unpredictability, gossip and merriment, sat Merlin and Arthur. The pair were at a station where all could be seen by the eye, the states of the people and Camelot weighing heavy on their minds. One was sorting through various tactics that ran through their young and inexperienced mind; the other was watching thoughtfully, absentmindedly searching through the throngs of people for the face of their comrade.
Silence settled between them, thick and thoughtful as the pair watched and played strategist. Golden eyes flickered over the slightest change in the crowd; amethyst eyes focused on key players of the latest tactic. Raven hair was huffily flicked from Merlin's eyes; strawberry blonde hair was simply blown away whenever it lazily floated into Arthur's face. A chubby, childlike hand was tapping against the material of Merlin's dress; Arthur's hand rested under a chin, the other running through his mane of hair.
It was the usual situation: one was thoughtful, the other antsy; but this time it was different. This time the roles of the nervous one and pensive one were switched, Merlin taking on Arthur's uncertainty and Arthur taking on Merlin's deep thought.
"Merlin," Arthur finally breaks the silence, releasing a sigh as he pushes away from the wall. "I have something to ask you."
"What is it?" Merlin raises a brow, turning to face the king with pure interest and concern. She knew that Arthur often looked to her for advice, in fact she was the person he trusted most often for guidance, and so she knew she had to listen. Even with the static that was filling her brain, the urge to look for Escanor, Merlin had to be calm and reflective - she had been an unbiased mirror so that she could guide Arthur in the best way possible.
"That demon, Galand," Arthur continued, watching as Merlin stiffened at her own post. Her tiny fists seemed to ball a little, a small blush scattering over her cheeks as she turns away from her young apprentice. "He seemed to know you. He called you the 'Daughter of Belialuin'. Why is that?"
The young king blinks, staring at his teacher with a gaze that was not judging nor accusatory. Instead it was the sort of gaze that suggested curiosity, innocence, Arthur seeming to want Merlin to confide in him the way he had in her so many times. The question was more of a way to know Merlin, to crack more of the mysterious puzzle that made up her complex past and personality, and Merlin knew that well. She knew that very well.
A cold shiver shooting up her spine, Merlin couldn't help the cringe that filled her form from Arthur's expectant stare. That hand was resting on her shoulder once more, the speckled and crippled hand that had gone through Purgatory. It was joined to the voice that whispered in her ears, hoarse and raspy yet still holding a base that made her freeze with pure fear. Then the voice tied to the face, the wrinkled, sagged and shriveled features that once were a warm and bright face.
Shifting, the sagging, aged flesh morphed into the sparkling shining lights of a god. It displayed her ten wings - large, fluffy and spanning over ten feet. Her hair was long, luxurious and flowing, a bright shade that sparkled in the light of the sun and her own divine power. A gloved hand had also reached out to Merlin: pure, soft and welcoming. It enveloped the girl with light and blessed her with the gifts of that god. It made her heart light, golden.
But then the darkness of the second god came. He was tall and towering, spanning the same ground as the light-engulfed god. Instead of wings, this god owned a cloak of shrouded darkness - swirling, mysterious and cold, always chilling Merlin's spine. His hand had been armored, guarded, each and every sharp and jagged edge of him making Merlin think of a warrior. From that hand she had received the curses of that god, the darkness swallowing her heart whole.
Then Merlin saw her Sis-sis. She saw the blonde demon who joined her, watched them fall in love and eventually abandon her too.
That left her here.
The only remainder of the true beginning of the war.
"I - "
Just as Merlin begins, Escanor stumbles in. He is bent and limping, dragging the familiar form of his scared treasure behind him. It seems heavy, overbearing, the weapon moving in a slow snail's pace as the boy edges his way into the bustling hall. Dark circles patched his pure blue eyes, his scrawny arms working with muscles that were slack and weary. Even the expression upon his lips and brows appeared rather morose and drained, the child slowly tottering towards an empty cot.
Once there, Escanor rolled onto it and drops his weapon. It gives a resounding clang, many of the surrounding people jumping at the sudden interruption. However they're soon talking once more, ignoring the exhausted child in favour of discussing the defeat of Galand. That left Escanor alone, the young boy frowning as he examined the glasses he held in his spare hand. The same glasses that owned smashed lenses and a bent wire frame.
Merlin frowned at the sight herself, her thoughts already backtracking as she turned from Arthur towards her fellow Sin. Alarm bells were already ringing in her skull, blaring and screeching like sirens, the added effects of her potion made them potent. Much more potent.
"Excuse me Arthur," Merlin hurriedly drifts away, concern etching onto her features as she weaves through the crowds towards the Lion Sin. It doesn't take too long for her to find him, levitating being a very practical and useful skill. Grimacing deeper, Merlin's concern only grows deeper as she took in Escanor's appearance.
Although Escanor seemed alright on the outside, no blemishes nor injuries marring his skin, something else was looming over him. It was semi-tangible, like a shadow, and followed the child about like a bad presence or aura. It was dark, foreboding, and it didn't help Merlin's already warring mind. It was sort of thing that made red flags come up; it created a feeling of panic that bloomed much more than it ever could before.
But Merlin just couldn't identify it. She couldn't - she couldn't face the reality of the situation. Escanor couldn't either.
"It's eating away at you," Merlin states, her voice factual and not at all concerned. It was a mask, a cold front, something to protect her already damaged heart. Her dark brows furrow, the ravenette turning away and subconsciously snapping. "Escanor, you have to stop using your power."
Frowning as Merlin retreated within her logic once more, Escanor winces at her harsh tone. It was Merlin's defense, her way to keep safe, and quite frankly it was something the Lion Sin always feared and admired that about her: the way she could hide her emotions so well.
"But Merlin I - "
"No buts," Merlin continues, her tone firm as her gaze narrows. Red-hot concern courses through her veins, thick and overbearing. She turns towards Escanor, arms folded across her chest. "Until I find a way to stabilize you, avoid using it. Ok?"
Harsh hazel eyes meet crinkled blue, both not wanting to back down but blue being more submissive. It was more willing to be 'wrong' and let hazel win. That was shown by the slight tinge to Escanor's jaw, the way he breathed out and shook his head. Merlin remained still, her lips set into a grimace and her jaw squared. Wild raven hair framed her hardened face, dark and callous like the desensitized soul entrapped within her; Escanor's own russet hair was shining and bright like the cursed, hopeful soul within him.
"Yes, Merlin," Escanor responds quietly, reluctantly, glancing away in shame.
The look makes the Boar Sin's gut spike; her heart sinks. Merlin feels as if she should apologise, as if she should do something, but she can only sigh and send one of her silent apologies. She can only send a softened look of remorse, busying herself with trying to think of how she could fix this situation. She fills her mind with equations and scenarios, ignoring the ringing ache of her guilt and building grief as she frantically scrambles for something - anything.
But nothing comes up.
"Get some rest, Escanor," Merlin finally smiles softly, a gentle hand resting on the boy's shoulder. She tries to soften the icy logic in her gaze. "I promise I'll help make things better."
The promise feels bitter on her tongue, false, but Merlin swallows it down and turns away with ease. Soon she's walking away, ignoring the bitter whispers of her logic-driven brain.
"Can we go yet?"
Once again the dreaded question was asked. The question said in a lackadaisical, drawn out whine that grated on the ears of all the adults present. It was the question that reminded them all of the childlike patience and attention-span that was now exhibited by all of the Sins. The same question that they now understood to be jarring and quite frankly overly annoying.
Now they could all understand why their parents had grown tired of such questions. The 'whys', the 'what ifs' and the all famed killer of 'are we there yet?'. Those questions, those words that were often said in a high-pitched moan or drawn out wail were the true reasons why parents loathed having children at times. The tugging on the arms, the temper tantrums, the pouting were all things that could be seen as justification for angrily putting said child into timeout. Sometimes even giving them the occasional light spank.
But sadly, right now, the adults were all too tired to even scold the children properly. Time out was just a huge no-no right now.
"No, not just yet," Guila sighs, deciding to answer before Jericho, Howzer or Veronica could. It was for the best this way; those three looked as if they wanted to throttle one of the kids if they asked 'when are we going?' again. She gives a gentle smile. "But soon we'll be done."
A series of groans followed the knight's response, none of the children satisfied with that response. It was already growing to be early evening, the sky having darkened as the sun prepared to sink below its cloudy horizon. Nighttime was a time in which small children could not be out, i.e. a time when the Sins could not be out. That meant by the time they were ready to go to the festival, they would be coming straight back.
How frustrating...
"How long is soon?" Diane blinks, swinging her legs from the chair she was perched upon. She tilted her chestnut pigtails, her fingers curling the ends. "Soon is a pretty vague answer."
"However long soon is," Veronica snaps through grit teeth, her mahogany eyes watching the setting sun. Pinched brows and a firm lower lip were her main defining features, the second princess of Liones looking anything but ladylike as she expertly handled a skinned rabbit.
"That's bullshit!" Ban growled, his small hand connecting with the surface of a table. Startled, the children beside him jumped a little, their little faces filled with pure shock and surprise. Red eyes narrowed into a glare, their owner sweeping its cursory glance over the room. "What kinda answer is that?"
"Mind your language, Ban!" Jericho's voice screeched from afar, the sound of a large thump indicating her rage. Heavy footsteps followed, low muttering escaping as the knight's familiar voice disappeared further and further away. Soon it was gone, the distant thuds of Jericho's footsteps filling the background instead.
Grumbling as he slouched in his seat and folded his arms across his chest, Ban blew a raspberry in response. He hated this. Hated being a kid. It was the worst having to listen to other people dictate your schedule and what you can and can't do. Kids were always seen as irresponsible and reckless when it came to doing things they wanted to do, but then everyone still used their irresponsible snot-noses to complete 'responsible' tasks like cooking. Talk about hypocrisy!
"Alright, everything seems to be in order," Margaret steals the attention of the room, gently clapping her hands together and smiling softly at the children. Her elegant tinkling voice fills the room, soothing and motherly compared to the grumpier tones of Jericho and Veronica and the tired tune of Guila.
"Really?" Diane practically jumps up from her seat, her eyes wide with eagerness. "Does that mean we can go now?"
A million expectant faces appeared to find that question as their cue, little wide eyes and cute button noses scrunching to solidify their chances of leaving earlier. Some pudgy hands were wedged together in a clasped hold, many of the worst troublemakers wore little smiles and waved happily, and Gowther even clapped and said "yay" in his usual monotone voice. Even Zeal had gotten into the manipulative spirit, keying his voice and expression just right to play on Guila's heartstrings.
In all, it was a pretty good mechanism against any adult who would want to say no. Just the sight of the children would make any grumpy old codger suddenly find their tongue tied and words stuck fast.
It was a good thing Margaret was going to say yes then.
"Yes," The princess nods, still smiling. Lavender hair slips with the action, spilling like fine silk. "We can all go now!"
"Yes!"
Somehow little pieces of confetti were tossed in the haggle of kids, colourful strips of paper floating towards the floor like oddly-shaped snowflakes. Little hands and arms waved excitedly in the air, the children already naturally getting into their own little groups and pairings as they began to chatter. Ban grabbed what looked like a secret stash of something; Diane was firmly grasping King's hand; Gowther and Zeal were discussing what they should see first; and Elizabeth and Meliodas were talking amicably with each other.
However, what was surprising was Jericho and Howzer's reactions, both of the adults having joined the children in their childlike hustle and bustle. Jericho was bouncing on the spot, already listing off what was she going to do and gushing about the supposed 'fun opportunity'. Howzer was also squirming about with glee, the blonde remarking how he wanted to try some of the food that would be available. Apparently, there was a pretty good selection.
Yet their joyful bubble of dreams was jarringly popped, adult life not granting them the privileges of an evening night out. Sadly, their duties as adults came before the recreations of children.
"Why are you guys cheering?" Veronica raises a brow, snickering as she watched the pair. Unlike most within the Boar Hat, the princess still sported her uniform and was in fact flicking through her tally notebook. She looked unamused as she did this, her snicker being a sly one.
"'Cause we're going to the festival," Howzer speaks, his tone obnoxious. He even rolls his eyes a little. "Duh."
"Oh, we forgot to tell you," Griamore lands a heavy hand on a shoulder each, both Jericho and Howzer jumping from the unexpected gesture. The knight gives a grin, displaying those gleaming pearly whites of his. "You and Jericho are staying behind to help run things here, Howzer."
"What?!"
"Yep, so let's get to work!" Veronica grins, already pulling up her sleeves. Dusting her nose, her thumb moves swiftly. "We've got profit to make and gossip to hear! Chop, chop!"
Jericho and Howzer could only gape in response, watching as the ecstatic group of children waved goodbye and left the Boar Hat in the happy little troupe. An hour later, and they were obediently serving tables, both given little aprons to collect tips and avoid the spoilage of their uniforms.
"This is so unfair..." Jericho grumbled, pouting as she took empty dishes back to the kitchen.
"Totally unfair..." Howzer agreed, sulking as he wiped down the bar's counter.
It was just their luck to be working the first shift. Just their luck to miss the super cool festival.
Merlin frowned as she glanced at the jigsawed remains of Camelot. Darkness had already set into the sky, shifting blue into orange and then a gloomy twilight. The beginnings of stars began to glimmer in the plain background, the moon not yet forming due to the sun having just barely disappeared. A few clouds gathered to glide along the still air, not a single disruption appearing to bloom within a fifty mile radius.
But that did not settle Merlin's racing mind nor heart.
While it was true that the sun had set long ago, the blazing star disappearing along with Escanor's seemingly invincible strength, that didn't mean all of her problems were gone. No, it only presented a small calm before yet another storm could arrive. A gap between raging rivers and seas.
Her golden eyes fixed onto the jagged silhouette of the former Commandment, burning with anxiety and fear as Merlin perched upon the rooftop. The stones of the wall's parapets were cold under her rear, and not at all the calming type of cold - it was more of a frosty and cruel cold. It was the type of piercing, freezing cold that came with accusatory glares and intense feelings of dread: two things which Merlin could relate to. She had always been on the receiving end of such things.
"What am I going to do?" Merlin breathed into the early evening air, grimacing deeper as her breath curled into a thin veil of mist. A small hand reached out to touch the artificial fog. Her fingers spread, embracing the small but brief warmth it brought, noting that it was all she'd ever gotten over the course of her endless lifetime. Small, brief moments of warmth.
No-one ever understood her. No-one ever truly placed everything on the line for her. Or rather, everyone who had, ended up facing the same selection of fates. The same selection of fates she was now trying to avoid.
Golden eyes once again fixed on the statue of Galand, softening as the hand came back. It rested over a racing heart, memorizing its frantic pace as Merlin closed her eyes and took in yet another deep breath. A very deep breath.
"Oh Escanor..." Merlin breathed, a hand running through her raven hair. She hung her head to look at the glittering slants of the stars, biting the corner of her lip. "You worry me so much - everyone does. I want to help but - "
Her eyes then fix onto the statue once more, Merlin's hand trembling as it tightly clutches the navy material of her dress. Her grubby and tattered dress that should be changed, and yet the mage had hesitated to do so. She was unsure of whether she wanted to take such a drastic action yet - especially since this dress gave her memories of back then. This dress - this item of clothing - was something that tied her ever-going present, to her ever-distant past.
"It's just me..." Another deep breath, tears glimmering as the tension begins to break. Catharsis is forming. "No-one else but me. Not even Meliodas can help this time..."
It was no use denying that Merlin was in the middle of a vast sea she could no longer navigate. Even though she knew where she was, what she wanted, the mage felt lost and trapped - everything seeming to be working against her. Each problem swelled like the crashing waves of the sea, each new challenge only growing to feed that storm that summoned the monstrous waves. Merlin was only on her dinghy, her small and tiny boat, the waves rocking and threatening to push her overboard.
And soon they will.
"I need help," Merlin lets the words out in a warble, her head hung low as she turns away from the night sky. Her grip tightens on her throbbing chest, the coolness of the castle's stones only amplifying the warmth of her fiery skin. "I need someone to help me do this."
"Then we'll help," Arthur speaks from the silence, offering a gentle smile. Beside him stood Escanor, the Lion Sin patched up and also sporting a warm but weary smile. "That's what we're here for, right?"
Merlin couldn't help but smile, thanking whatever it was up there for supplying her with a second a chance. Another attempt at being somewhat anthropoid. But even so, the cold dread and logic still lingered.
"Right..."
"Gather round, gather round!"
Crowds of children and young people clustered around the aged storyteller, their forms compacted tightly together around the bright ring of a blazing fire. Crackling amber flames shone in their bright young eyes, displaying their vigour and enchantment. Every seat was taken, benches and odd chairs soon having to be replaced with logs and stone platforms, every possible seating option considered to cram every eager listener into the circle.
Diane had pulled King towards the circle, forcing the rest of their group to also squeeze into the already packed area. Small groans and mutters were heard from the other listeners, all of them glaring at the intruding gang.
"The annual storytelling has begun!" The storyteller bellowed, tossing something odd into the flickering flames. Suddenly, they glowed a neon green, bright and verdant. Each flame licked the dark sky above, magical and mysterious like a dragon's eye. They even roared like the supposed beast. "Hark and let us hear from our first teller!"
All attention switched from the intruding children and adults to the aged bellower, keen eyes and wide grins directed entirely towards him. The storyteller in question held a gnarly wooden staff, his wrinkled and darkened hands wrapped tightly around the thing. Thrown over his body was colourful clothing, a woolen scarf wound around his neck. His nose was rounded and fat, much like the rest of him, and his mouth was fixed into an enthusiastically wide grin.
"Have you chosen Solaseed?" He pats the darkened form of a person, a head. They step out into the light.
At the storyteller's side was a small child, her auburn hair shining russet in the green light of the fire. In her hands rested a small lute, her tiny fingers fixed over the wooden body and taut delicate strings. Over her neck was a yellow shawl, her green and blue clothing hidden in the gloom of the green fire's flames. Even her skin was melding with the gloom, the pale flesh appearing dull in the light of the fire. However, at the storyteller's words, Solaseed's golden eyes fixed onto the young giantess and fairy, signalling her decision.
"Ah, a great choice, my dear! A great choice!" The storyteller cackled, rubbing his big fat hands in glee. The wooden stick shifted and rolled between his elbows, tucked close to his pudgy body. "I was thinking the exact same thing! The exact same!"
Nothing is said in response, Solaseed simply staring at the giant and fairy. At intervals, she blinks. A shiver creeps up King's spine in response.
"I don't like this..." The fairy mutters, tugging on Diane's arm. Skeptical, his own golden eyes meet Solaseed's, suspecting something amiss. Sensing something other than innocent child'splay. "There's something odd about her."
At King's muttering, Diane raises a brow. Turning her head from the staring Solaseed, the giantess fixes majority of her attention on calming King down. His superstitions always tended to get the best of him, after all.
"Don't be so superstitious, King!" Diane scoffs, rolling her eyes. Playfully, she nudges the fairy in the side. "You're reading too deeply into it."
King frowns at Diane, narrowing his gaze all the more and groaning. He does not like the way the green fire dances. "Am I really?"
Thickly, silence settles among the circle of people gathered to listen. Only the crackling of the fire, the spitting of its flames and the scent of burning wood that sifts into the air dares to the disturb the stillness of the circle. Every person has fallen silent, every person has fell into waiting, watching, to see if the beginning of the annual storytelling will begin. With every second that passes by, the old man appears to grow more and more frustrated. He grows more and more agitated.
"You!" The storyteller suddenly outcries, his fat finger pointing directly towards King. His wizened and creased eyes glow with giddiness, his plump yet wrinkled cheeks ruddy with jubilance, excitement. In contrast, Solaseed remains calm beside him, running a tiny hand over her lute's silent strings. "Yes, you! The small boy next to the brunette. You will do nicely for tonight's opening storyteller."
"M-me?!" Immediately red fills King's face, the fairy taken aback by the sudden proclamation of the storyteller. Why was he even called the storyteller anyway? It's not like he tells the stories. Everyone else does. "C-can't someone else do it?"
"No, it must be you," The man speaks grimly, the fire suddenly erupting further. Green sparks spit from the cluster of flames, powered by the additional fuel that had just been chucked into the ethereal blaze. "You must start the stories, boy."
Dread fills King's body, the sudden fixed attention of endless staring eyes only putting him further on edge. A thick lump sticks in his throat. There had to be at least fifty people gathered here, watching him, their eyes all blinking and staring and gazing as his body can only heat profusely and flush red. He tries to talk, but his voice comes out in a strangled whisper, and his hands feel too tense and clammy to even lift and cover his face in shame.
It's too many people. Too many eyes. He was used to being listened to, used to being the centre of attention, but not like this. Not in such a massive group.
Spotting King's sudden fluster and shame, Diane quickly grabs his hand and smiles brightly. "Yes, you tell a story King!" She turns to the crowd of watching, waiting eyes, her high-pitched voice cheery and eager as she laces her fingers with his. "King always has the best stories! The absolute best! Right, Ban?"
Rolling his eyes, Ban sighed from his psot in a tree. He had been enjoying the shaming of King, especially since he hadn't pulled a decent prank on him for a good couple of days, but of course Diane just had to ruin his fun. She was always the voice of reason when it came to the Sins - second only to King himself and Merlin when she was in a good mood. Everyone else was a little more selfish and didn't mind sacrificing others for their own entertainment.
"Yeah, they're great," Ban smiled, brandishing his sharpened canines. Sadly, his smile lacked the correct amount of vigour. Diane chucked a stone at his forehead. "Ow! I mean, yeah they're the best!"
In response, the crowd began to murmur and share looks, their excitement only fed further by the prospects of a tale told by a mysterious, fey-looking boy. Surely, he would have a tale that would be way more interesting than a boring bear story or mountain one. Surely, he must know of hidden treasures and brave knights and cursed demons. Surely, he must know tales that the villagers could only dream of partaking in. Tales of legend and myth.
"Tell us!" Just like the roaring fire, the people cried to hear King's tale. Hands rose into the air, balled into excited fists. "Tell us, boy! Tell us!"
Always being a sucker to peer pressure, King reddened a little further at the collective chanting of the crowd. Gingerly, his eyes fixed upon Solaseed and the storyteller. Both sets of eyes stared back at him, unreadable and incomprehensible. Silently, Diane squeezed his hand, offering support. He smiled back at her.
"Ok, ok," King hushed, his voice leaving gently on the evening breeze. His blush died down. "I'll tell you all a story, but it is pretty old and just a myth..."
~o~o~
Once there was a fairy who always saw the outside. From their world of rushing rivers, towering trees and endless summers, the outside world was always a nasty and depressing place. A different place. Unlike the fairy's natural, floral realm, the outside world was rocky, harsh and man-made. Trees were cut to be replaced with structures that they called 'buildings'; rivers were bridged and crossed over by arches cut from slabs of polished stone; fruits and flowers were plucked and sold, used, as if they were not nature's free gifts.
Other fairies liked the idea of the outside, of the wonders that man made from nature. They oo-ed and ah-ed at all the fancy bridges and buildings and trinkets human would show them; they gaped and gawked at fire and gemstones and money; they chattered and bustled about things they would bring back, show the fairy who disliked the outside, trying to convince him to let the outsiders in. Trying to integrate the fairies' scared realm to the greedy, groping hands of man.
But the fairy, the fairy king, would not stand for it. He disliked the way the outside harmed nature and used it for its own gained. The way humans would cut trees, burn wood and grate it down just to make superficial items. They never needed to destroy; they never needed to build. But like always, man was greedy and didn't think of what they needed. All humans ever thought of was want. Greed. They would never change.
"I don't know why you're so distrusting of the outside," His friend, Helbram, said one day. He tossed a shiny coin, capturing it between his hands. "The humans aren't that bad."
"You don't know what they're capable of," The fairy king responded, turning the coin Helbram gave him in his hands. He didn't like the way it shone. He didn't like its copper sheen. "Trust me, humans are not as kind as you say."
"Sure," Helbram nodded. "Sure."
But the fairy king knew that he wasn't entirely convinced.
~o~o~
Seasons ticked by and with them Helbram grew more and more attached to the fickle ideas of humans. After each visit he would return with new ideas to renovate, improve and change the fairies' realm. He believed that embracing human ideas, taking in their culture, may improve the way the fairies functioned. He believed that making deals with humans, inviting them into their sacred land, would help to improve the fairies' connection with the outside world.
But, of course, the fairy king said no. Each and every time he would tell Helbram that human ideas were silly and irrelevant. Fairies did not need bridges because they had wings, fairies did not need fires because they did not kill beasts, fairies did not need houses as the forest protected them from the elements. Human ideas were for human fancies; fairy ideas were for fairy business. It was as simple as that. Easy as that.
Helbram did not agree. Helbram believed that humans were partially right. He idolized their way of living. So one day, in an act of blinded determination, Helbram took a group of fairies to visit a nearby human town. He said that there was a special surprise organised for them, a group of his human friends being very explicit in their instruction to bring as many of his fairy friends as he could.
They did not return.
Once an hour had passed, the fairy king grew concerned and decided to find the missing group himself. Without telling many, he prepared to venture into the outside world, ready to rescue Helbram and the other fairies from the pesky humans. But, of course, not everyone agreed with such a plan.
"Don't leave! Please!" The guardian of the fountain cried, her golden eyes swimming with tears. Despite the news of the missing fairies, she was also concerned for the forest. For herself. If something happened to the king, then they would all be lost. Confused. They needed the fairy king to be present. "You have to remain and protect the forest!"
"I also have to save the others!" The fairy king argued, already leaving his distressed sibling behind.
However, when the fairy king arrived to help them, save them, he found a scene of blood and gore. He saw humans ripping the delicate wings from his friends' corpses, each one being handled with an ironic sense of care. Rip. Rip. Rip. Ribbons of blood and flesh escaped, tiny shreds of grasping tendons. Just the sight of it made his head spin, his stomach reel. And at the centre of this bloodshed, in the middle of this sickening act, was a towering man with an eye patch, his lip curled in a sense of terrible glee when he spotted the fairy king.
Red. Blinded, terrible, white-hot red. He rushed towards the man, unknowing of what he would do. Then a slicing hot pain shot down his spine and everything spun. Something heavy slipped out of him, something heavy and thick. Then he tumbled and dropped, the cold overtaking him.
In the rough embrace of the rocking cold, he closed his eyes and let the darkness take him. Drown him. He did not wish to wake again.
~o~o~
When the fairy king awoke, he came face to face with a girl. A giant girl. No, really, the young girl was a giant. Apparently, she was left to her own devices, no parents or elder figures around. All alone, secluded in a cave, she passed her days playing with two golems she created and named: Fillet and Loin. But then she had found the fairy king and, suddenly, loneliness did not become a problem. When she had found him, she dedicated her time to nursing him. She passed her time with helping him get better.
Now he was awake. Confused. He did not know who was anymore and this giant girl didn't help much with her loudness and excitement.
"You know, you're awfully small for a boy," The girl frowned, chewing on a piece of her grilled pork. Well, it was really a whole pig. "Even by human standards."
All evening, the giant had been trying to strike conversation with him. At times, it had worked and she managed to gain a decent response. But right now, the fairy king was too busy trying to figure out what had happened. He was too baffled by the fog that filled his brain and prevented him from remembering anything about his past life.
"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm not human," The fairy king responded, frowning a little. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall anything. Not even a home.
"What are you then?" The giant asked, raising a brow. For a child, she seemed awfully interested in his own personal business.
However, as much as the fairy king wanted to know the answer, he couldn't recall what he was. He couldn't tell where he had come from, nor how he ended up in the river. All he could recall was a piercing pain in his back, a terrible white-hot rage.
Staring at the fire, the fairy frowns as he chews on a tiny piece of pork. He didn't like the taste of it much - it was too fleshy. Too animal. Was that a clue as to who he was?
Swallowing the pork, his brows crinkle as he finally musters a response.
"I don't know who I am..."
~o~o~
Many, many years passed with the giantess in the cave. Generations upon generations of humans flourished and shriveled over the time the fairy king spent there, the small hunter's lodge growing into a vibrant and bustling town. With each generation, came new lessons and small pieces of trust from humans: the giant girl being cured because of a hunter's soup recipe, the secret of human marriage being learned, the news of new generations and the difference in time between humans and other races.
In all, the fairy king began to grow comfortable with humans - well some of them. For some reason, he was still cautious towards the idea of them. He didn't entirely trust them. But the giantess was different, she liked the humans and their ideas and customs. She openly babbled about them and asked the fairy king about trying them out. Naturally, he'd humour her and agree. He liked agreeing with her. He liked being with her. She did too. If anything, they really liked each other's company. A lot.
But like always, bliss is broken by a bubble of violence. Screams were heard one night, screeching sirens that were joined with a heavy smoke that hung in the air. When the fairy king had first heard the screams, he didn't think much of it, but when he smelt the smoke, the choking, black smoke, he knew something wrong.
Instructing the giant to stay behind, he immediately left to check on the nearby town. Before even spotting it, he felt the terrible dread of what was going on. Burning amber, bright and dangerous orange, danced in the skyline as people screamed and pleaded to be spared. Bodies lay sprawled on the floor, their backs slashed and blistering and oozing in the growing flames. Again, the screams ring like empty echoes through the town, ghostly and wailing and foreboding.
In the centre, stands the eye-patched man. Again. But it's not him - not now. No. He is Helbram, his friend but also not his friend. He is twisted and bent and entrapped in rage, grief, his emotions and mind deranged by his mistake. He hates humans. He no longer loves them. He wants to kill them all; he wants to slash their backs like how they ripped his friends' wings away. Rip. Rip. Rip. Slash. Slash. Slash.
Again, the fairy king feels his mind spinning and his gut reeling. He feels a terrible sensation settling in his stomach. It was him. It was him. It was all his fault... He should've never forgot; he should've known.
In a jerked motion, he yanks his arm back and throws. A single flower. Its petals stain red, making it a rose as it lands it mark.
Helbram falls to the floor. The massacre ends.
Now it is time for the king to make amends.
~o~o~
He pleads guilty. Guilty to everything. Helbram, the town, his sister, the giantess...all of it was the king's fault. In his wish to protect everything, to look after everyone, he had failed to protect everything he cared about. He failed to do what a real king would do.
He was a lousy king. A terrible person.
Perhaps that is why he deserved everything that comes after. Perhaps that is why he deserved to be lonely and imprisoned.
What else would befall such a terrible king?