A young Mirana sat beside a lake within the gardens of Marmoreal, giggling softly as two of her personal guards, dunked a child beneath the murky waters once more, in punishment for an offense which had no proof of ever occurring.
"Hold him under much longer this time!" came her sickenly sweet voice. Like molasses, it poured out from her lips and into the ears of her guards as they held the lad as he thrashed about. "I like it when he flails like a fish," Mirana giggled and the boy was let up to gulp in air once more.
Ilosovic Stayne, the most disliked soul in all of Under. What he had done to earn the glares and tortures from his peers he would not know for years to come, but all he knew was that he hated them. Every last one of them.
"This isn't funny you little witch!" shouted the boy, his own two eyes glaring into the soulless pits that Mirana called eyes.
"I'm not a witch, you demon limbed freak!" Mirana spat back as Ilosovic managed to break free from one of the guard's grip. "I ought to tell my father, or better yet, your father. Maybe he'll beat you in the square for the whole kingdom to see again." She sneered and made the young knave-to-be growl in displeasure.
"He isn't my father, my father was a great man!"
"Oh yea? Then who was he?!" Mirana asked, and to this question he could not answer.
He asked his mother the same question nearly every night but she never gave him the answer. 'He was a great man Ilosovic, you look so much like him, if only he could see you now.' He knew only what little his mother told him, and that he had died before he was born.
He soon found himself submerged beneath the water once more before being released, setting him into a greater panic, for he could not swim, but to his relief, within his thrashing, he soon found that he could stand at this depth. Breaking the surface of the water once more, Ilosovic took in the air greedily, not caring to know the reasoning for his sudden freedom, but he saw Iracebeth standing before her sister.
She was beautiful in her youth, far prettier than her younger sister, and many of the neighboring houses and kingdoms knew this. She had dukes, earls and merchants near and far asking for her hand when she came of age at all hours of the day.
"Now sister, what have I told you about associating with the common folks?" Iracebeth inquired, raising an eyebrow as she asked. Mirana sighed heavily, rolling her eyes.
"If you talk to commoners, you'll only be a commoner," Mirana groaned looking back to her sister with a pout. "But Iracey, I was only punishing him for what he is!" She said in defense, her chin held high. "A freak."
"Come, come sister. That isn't a good enough reason to waste your precious youth with him." Iracebeth called as she turned to make her leave. "Why if I didn't know any better, I would say you had a crush on the odd thing. Always harassing him and all." At this statement, Mirana went pink in the face as Ilosovic clambered upon the solid ground once more.
"Me? Like him?! That's madness!" The girl shouted, getting to her feet in huff, making her older sister smirk.
"I only tease Mirana! Now come along, or else we shall be late for our naming ceremony!"
Reluctantly the young princess followed without question, casting back a glare as well as a tongue to the lad heaving for air on the lawn then ran off after her older sister with her personal guards following close behind.
He hated them. All of them. From the servants to the King himself, and he would not hesitate to strike them all down if given the chance. Drenched, cold and humiliated, the boy found it hard to find the motivation to get to his feet. He was already late for his stable duties, and he was sure to receive a good whooping from the stable master for it. The beating would be the same if he was off by a few moments or by an hour anyway.
Managing to muster the will and strength to get on his feet once more, Ilosovic made his way towards the stables. With his mind still on his ill thoughts of his peers, his eyes did not see well for him, and he collided into a man dressed in silver and gold. Ilosovic, built like a weed was sent to the cobblestone laid ground, while the man he had the unfortunate bump with stood, furiously hissing with displeasure.
"Ugh! I'm soaking wet! By the seasons boy! Did you just crawl out of a well?!" The voice boomed, but the lad neither had the courage nor will to reply until he was hauled to his feet, the man's white gloved hands clenching his cotton shirt. He was now face to face with Time, only he did not know it. He only knew that by the way the man was dressed was that he was someone very, VERY important. The fear of drowning entered him once more.
"I'm sorry Sir, I didn't-"
"Yes, yes, I know! You didn't see me!" Time spat shoving the lad away with contempt and moved to dust himself off. "You're running late, so run along, boy." He warned, to which Ilosovic nodded quickly and was about to run off before the gloved hands were on him once more.
"Wait. Boy… Give me your name." Ilosovic's eyes grew wide at the command.
"My- My name?" He asked, worried now that he would be reported to the King, or worse, his Step-Father.
"Yes, boy, your name! Give it here, or should I ask one of these lovely knights approaching us now to wretch it from you?!" Not given much of a choice, the boy gave in.
"It's Ilosovic," He whispered, "Ilosovic Stayne."
"I see, well, Ilosovic Stayne, you should be more wary of your surroundings." He hissed. "You have two perfectly good eyes. It's a shame to waste them. Now off you pop." He spat, and the boy retreated as quickly as he could.
Time scoffed watching the young Stygian boy run off. He knew the bloodline lived, and he was shocked that the boy managed to live underneath the Crims and Marmoreal royals. Not that it mattered to him, yet at least. The boy would be his pawn in time, but before the brat could be of use he may as well make him suffer for muddying up his favorite dress attire. For the moment being, he was here for strictly business. Today, he was to name the Princess's fates.
The grand hall of Marmoreal was filled to its maximum capacity, all for the events of this day. The royal family sat comfortably in their thrones, all but Mirana that was, who couldn't wait to be rid of the stuffy room. Iracebeth on the other hand was very prim and very proper, basking in the glory of her subjects' attention. The true makings of a Queen to be.
Once before the royal family, Time offered a bow, to gesture goodwill, although it should have been their place to bow to him. After all, he was the one who was really in charge around here.
Eyeing the family he grinned seeing that they were all on the edges of their seats. All except for Mirana that was, of course, which intrigued him further. Right up to the point where he had to address the girl before the kingdom.
"Princess Mirana, how is it that in my presence, you insist on being so impatient?" He asked, just loud enough for those in the back of the hall to guess the words that he spoke. The girl frowned at the question and glared up at him.
"I tire of waiting on your word," The girl confessed with her arms now crossed over her chest, the comment luring jaws to go slack, as well as releasing some gasps from the crowd. "Why must I wait for questions I don't care about?"
"Because, my dear, that is how it is done." Time purred, trying to win over the young girl but she only shook her head.
"I still don't see why we should wait for you, you should be waiting on us."
"Mirana!" Iracebeth hissed under breath looking her way but Mirana only continued her crusade against Time.
"Well I don't like waiting! It's boring, I could be doing other things! Like having tea, or riding my horse, or going out to the sea to throw rocks at Mock Turtles."
All Time could do was laugh. This child was one of the boldest creatures he had yet to come in contact with, but he knew it was only because of her age, but it still amused him. And yet gave him ideas.
"Well my dear, what would you prefer then?" Time asked the child who now neared the edge of her seat as she began to ponder what method she would prefer to know of what was to come.
"Pictures." She said simply, not looking the man in the eye, but rather at her own feet, still thinking over her thoughts. "I would like to have pictures of your will be given rather than speeches and ceremonies." She said simply. "They are such a waste of a perfectly good days."
"That it is," Time concurred with a smirk as he looked to the royal advisor, a fox who looked rather cunning. "You there, yes, you, fetch me a scroll!" He ordered, and with a bow, the fox retreated quickly to do as was bided of him, and returned with an ordinary scroll, handing it off to Time.
Time looked over the parchment to ensure that it was not yet tainted with ink or held any tears, and once he confirmed that it was to his expectations he peeled off his gloves and took out his dagger, which alarmed a few of the knights, but with a simple gesture from the king they held their ground, still wary of the man all considered as a deity. He pricked his finger, drawing blood and squeezed out three drops upon the open scroll.
The birth of The Oraculum. A scroll that was bound to Time by blood would now project what was, what is and what will be to anyone in possession of it. His eyes scanned over his creation with pride, but he could not claim the credit completely. He had indeed thought of this beforehand, but could only go with the plan if it was suggested by royalty. Kneeling before Mirana he presented the scroll to her, and she snatched it up without the proper curtsy. She would be scolded for that later.
"A gift," Time whispered gently as he got back to his feet to face the witnesses in the hall, "a gift, for the next Queen of Under!" Cheers began, but were silenced by an explosion of fury from the elder sister.
"What?!" Screamed a very shocked and dissatisfied Iracebeth. "How could you choose her?! She is not the eldest, I am! I am to have the crown!" A wry grin now came to Time's lips and he approached the young woman.
"Is that how it is then?" He asked softly, however his voice seemed to hint at his quiet rage, but he continued to smile at the young princess whose face was nearly as red as her hair. "Why would I want the oldest one to take reign? They might have less time on the throne, doesn't sound like a sound investment, does it?" He asked looking back to Mirana who continued to stare at the scroll with amazement, forgetting everything else which was taking place now.
"Yes! Those are the rules! I am the oldest, so I am first!" She said, stomping her feet before the whole kingdom, her parents could only look away in peril as their first child disgraced them before all of their subjects and Time.
"Careful Iracebeth.. If you don't control yourself, all that power you long for may just go to your head one day." He warned making his way back to the Queen to be and offered her a bow. "I look forward to seeing you grow, Mirana." With that he left, as did Iracebeth, as furious as ever.
Ilosovic Stayne sighed as he mucked the stalls, a fresh welt on his left cheek. The penance for being tardy to his chores. Though he hated all of Marmoreal, this was the one place where he felt some comfort and belonging. The stallions and mares did not mock his features, but applauded him for his long legs. 'Perfect for running' they claimed, and his gaunt and bony figure, giving him a noble look, they assured. It wasn't exactly home, but it was the best that he had.
Finishing the last of the stalls, Ilosovic turned to fetch water from the well when he saw Princess Iracebeth storm in. Her eyes were red, clearly from crying, as she was still allowing tears to fall freely. He did not dare ask her what was the matter, only awaited for her orders to mount her horse a brindle mare by the name of Terra, however Iracebeth had a nasty habit of calling her Tart, no matter how many times she was corrected.
"Servant Boy, ready my horse!" She demanded, and he set forth right away. "I'm running away from this miserable place! How dare he make my sister Queen?! I wonder if mother and father had anything to do with this!" She shouted, venting to the silent audience.
Once 'Tart' was prepared for riding Illosovic walked the mare out to her and assisted her on the mare's back.
"You're majesty, running away may not be the best course right now. It's nearly night, and the forest is full of merciless creatures at night. Bandersnatches, Snarks, Jubjub birds and Ja-"
"Shut up! What do you know, idiot?! You've never been outside of these walls!" She hissed before kicking her heels into the sides of the poor Terra who galloped out of the stables, knocking its attendant to the floor. Wincing as he felt his knees and palms graze against the cobblestoned floors, Ilosovic watched as the Princess veered off, making way for the gates.
Getting back to his feet, the lad went to tidy up Terra's stall when the royal guards rushed in, led by none other than Winthrop. Ilosovic involuntarily flinched as his stepfather approached.
"Boy, where is Princess Iracebeth? She was seen coming this way!"
"She just rode off, she said she was-" He soon felt the knight's gauntlet across is right cheek, backhanded with enough force to send him to the floor once more, and the knight followed him down, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, ready to throttle the lad to an inch of his life.
"You just let her go?! Without any protection?! You-! You good for nothing!-"
"Sir, I tried to stop her I swear!"
The famed White Knight growled in anger, shoving him back to the floor before looking to the rest of the men in his squad, two red and two white.
"Mount your horses, all of you, we need to catch her and quickly. It's Bandersnatch mating season. Those beasts won't hesitate to tear the princess to bits if she enters their territory." He warned, going to his own white stallion and saddled him up, his men following in suit. As they all rode out, Winthorp was the last to leave the stall, but not before exchanging words with his burden.
"Should I return without the Princess, you'll be held responsible."
"But I didn't-"
"Silence! Worthless worm, you'll most likely be hung for your stupidity, but I'd prefer other methods." He hissed before galloping off, to catch up with his men. Ilosovic waited until they were out of sight before he went to mount his favorite horse, Cloppin, a young black stallion.
"Come on Clop, we are leaving." He hissed.
"Leaving?! Illosovic, we cannot leave, where will we go?"
"I don't care. Anywhere, somewhere that you can be run freely and I can just be free from this madness!" The boy muttered and raised up a horse bit. "If you don't cooperate, I'll have no choice but to give you this." The horse threw out his tongue in disgust and nodded.
"Fine! We shall ride off, but where?"
"To the Outlands for all I care, anywhere is better than this wretched place. Now come on!" He shouted hopping on and the horse whinnied before peeling out of the stables and for freedom.
Iracebeth's tears had subsided but her emotions were still through the roof. Tart had suggested staying along the trails, to retreat to Crim's, her mother's kingdom, but Iracebeth only shook her head in anger. If Mirana was to be Queen, then she would be the Queen of all of Under, which included Crims. They went off onto a beaten path, though the boding wood, Tart's speed still as a full gallop, dodging the trees and brush which had grown into the once clear trail.
Unbeknownst to the pair, they had a search party looking for them, only they had concluded that the girl would be smart enough to go to Crims, and not venture into the woods, not with night nearly on them, however the stable boy, Ilosovic and his stead, by chance, happened to be on their tail. Still unsure where they were headed, the pair agreed that they should conserve their energy for now, in case someone were to come after them.
"I hear that the Hightopps are friendly enough, maybe we could take refuge with them?" The young horse suggested as he trotted along the trail.
"No, don't be stupid, the Hightopps are one of the White Kingdom's greatest allies. They would report me to Winthrop the instant they found out who I am."
"It was only a suggestion, no need to be cruel, Ilosovic," Cloppin replied, his ears pressed back, hurt by the words spoken, triggering guilt to flood the boy's heart.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." He whispered looking to his friend once more, stroking the side of his neck. "I just don't want to ever return to them. There isn't a single thing worth staying for. Not anymore." He whispered thinking briefly of his mother when a scream broke his thinking process.
"The Princess!" Cloppin whinnied, now in full sprint in the direction of the cry, nearly throwing the boy off his back.
Ilosovic held on for his life as the horse expertly maneuvered around the foliage, jumping over fallen trees and dodging the boulders in the trail, before coming to a complete halt. Iracebeth was upon the ground, disheveled from being thrown off from her mare which was nowhere in sight. Jumping down from Cloppin's back, the stable boy approached the princess, a cut formed upon her left brow.
"Princess Iracebeth?" He asked as he checked if the girl was dead as he knelt beside her form. She was breathing, but she took such a nasty fall that she had knocked herself out. Glancing up to Cloppin in question, he saw the fear in his eyes. Following Cloppin's gaze, Illosovic's eyes turned to see something hunched over in the distance. It sounded as though it were breaking twigs beneath its form, still unclear to the Stable boy, he stood up in hopes of getting a better view.
"Ilosovic, we should leave." Cloppin whispered slowly approaching the boy and the sleeping girl on the ground. "Put her on my back and we'll make way back to the kingdom."
"Cloppin, what is that thing?" He asked, a sense of curiosity overcoming him as he bent over the Princess and lifted her up with ease.
"I'm not sure, but it isn't good." He whispered. This was the farthest into the wood that the horse had been, and the farthest from kingdom Ilosovic had ever been.
"We should try to find Terra before we head back," Illosovic whispered as he positioned the unconscious Iracebeth on the back of Cloppin who shook his head.
"We leave, now." The horse neighed softly, which made the boy growl in anger.
"You won't be thrashed if we show up without Terra, but I will!" Ilosovic reminded when a snap was heard behind him. Directing their attention to the source of the sound, the once hunched over unknown creature made its appearance known.
An adolescent Jabberwocky, its scaly skin the color of the clouds before a storm with yellow eyes that flashed like lightning in the dark. Blood caked its mouth, forcing Ilosovic to look to where it had been crouched before, seeing the remains of Terra in the pale moonlight. Sucking in his breath, shock began to hit him as his eyes went back to the beast which did not attempt to get any closer. It was still, waiting for its ruined opportunity to present itself once more.
"Ilosovic, get on now." Cloppin insisted, but the boy couldn't pry himself free from the Jabberwocky's gaze. "Ilosovic, please!" He said with a stamp, triggering a primal growl from the massive predator before them.
"We'll never make it," He said with a broken voice.
"Ilosovi-"
"Run!" The stable boy cried before he bolted for the tree line, Giving way for the chase the Jabberwocky responded with a roar and charged after him, giving Cloppin the opportunity to escape back to the kingdom.
Slipping between two thin spruces, Ilosovic narrowly evaded the jaws of the beast, which snapped the trees into splintered bits, flying all around him. He made way for the denser-looking parts of the wood, in hopes that he could lose the Jabberwocky with putting an uncrossable distance between him and it. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the monster spit a bit of wood before resuming the hunt, looking as determined as ever.
His heart raced as he himself raced. For the first time in his life he was thankful for his shape and size. Had he not had the long legs he had, he may have been eaten already. He continued to zigzag through the tree lines, hoping to throw the Jabberwocky off, but it still managed to stay on his trail. However as he got deeper into the wood Ilosovic managed to put a more reasonable distance until he came out to a small clearing.
He turned to see if he could enter the wood again but turned to see the Jabberwocky triumphantly emerging from the tree line, baring its fangs, still red with the mare's blood. Stalking over to the lad, the creature's shoulders moved up and down much like a cats before it struck its prey. Ilosovic felt his belt line and found his dagger, a tool which was barely capable of cutting rope. He swallowed hard and prepared to go down with a fight.
The creature produced another growl, only it came off as a throaty chuckle, and it was. Its tail whipped from side to side as it continued to approach Ilosovic until they were only feet apart. Ilosovic shook with fear as he raised his blade to meet the beast which would surely take his life.
With the flick of its tail, the Jabberwocky not only managed to disarm the stable boy, but dislocated the arm from the socket as well, a cry of agony erupting from him. Moving to cradle the damaged limb, Ilosovic failed to evade the blow to come, looking up just in time to see the Jabberwocky rise onto its hind legs and bring one of its claws upon him.
Everything went red.
Stayne woke slowly. The night's rest had been less than pleasing, but he wouldn't dare complain. He woke expecting to find Alice either gone or threatening him with his own sword however she slept still and soundless at that. Her head resting in his lap. He hesitated on breathing, not wanting to cause anything that might make her wake. It wasn't long before Alice came to, but as suspected, when she awoke she felt no need to remain in his presence. She pulled herself up to her feet and out of his reach.
"Good morning, Alice." Stayne chimed, a hint of mockery in his voice. "You look as though you slept well."
"I've had better nights when I could not sleep." Alice replied and moved to the window. Still defying him, but he managed a breakthrough last night, surely he could manage to get closer to her still. He watched as she made her way over to the window that overlooked the garden, noting her expression of shock.
"It snowed!" She exclaimed, her hands upon the window sill. "How is that possible?! It was summer weather just the other day!"
"The seasons come and go as they please," Stayne sighed gently as he rose to his feet to join her at the window. "They obey no laws, give no notice, nor consider the inconvenience of their presence." He continued with a shrug, noting the considerable amount of snow.
"So are the seasons people, like Time?" She asked, which startled Stayne.
"What do you know about Time?" He asked sharply, Alice turning to face him, wide eyed at the suddenness and tone of his voice.
"Nothing really, only what I've heard. Which is very little," she confessed eyeing him with that childlike curiosity. "Do you know Time?" Stayne hardened his gaze at the mention of Time once more.
"We're acquainted with one another, yes." He answered, his arms crossed over his chest now. "Not well mind you, and I don't find him to be all that pleasurable in company. Time is very unforgiving and quick to deliver his punishments."
"How so?" Alice asked facing him once more, seating herself against the window.
"I pray you never find out, Alice. So far he has favored you, and if that were to cease, I imagine your demise would be rather dreadful," Stayne warned and Alice nodded thoughtfully as he made his way to leave the room.
"So is that where The Oraculum's pictures come from? From Time?" She asked, stopping Stayne in his tracks.
"Yes," Ilosovic said, turning to face her again. "Anything that Time says will come to be, will."
"Well that can't be entirely true, can it? How could Time control everything like that? Why, if I were to go get Tarrant from Marmoreal, what then?" She asked, not noticing the name of her beloved friend, made him clench his jaw. "I'm told of things that are, that must be and that I have to do, but I'll make my own path if I must."
"Famous last words, Alice," Stayne chastised but frowned seeing her glare. "You were told about our wedding, and went against it, and here we are married."
"I could have rejected you," Alice said firmly, looking back out the window.
"Then why didn't you?" Stayne prodded.
"Because, it's no longer about me," Alice stated in a whisper. "If Mirana is truly this treacherous, then I can't bear the thought of Mirana ruling." Her eyes now on Stayne as she moved away from the window and for the door his body blocked. "Not when Hatter doesn't have a clue of what is transpiring here, along with the rest of my friends."
Stayne stood where he was, her words both inspiring him and paralyzing him. She was a Champion at heart, carried herself like a Queen, but she was still a wildflower. She had surprised him last night, with her kisses. He swore he felt something from her, but now she acted as though they were just acquainted. A more fresh start perhaps?
"Alice," Stayne called out as she retreated, she paused briefly looking over to him once more. "Last night, we-"
"It was a mistake," Alice interjected quickly, those four words like a thousand daggers at him. "I'm not sure what came over me." Stayne however knew perfectly well what caused the desire to kiss. That damn Biser oil. It had loosened her up only for her to shut tight again. "You have what you want, my hand, your crown... I only want the wellbeing of those I care for."
With that she brushed past him and left, taking Stayne's hopes with her. He went to the chair before his desk, practically collapsing into it. He ran his gloved hands through his hair and tried to get his thoughts in order, but he could only feel the bitterness of Alice's words. 'It was a mistake.' He took hold of the first thing he could reach, a glass orb, which was intended for a paperweight, but its purpose died once it met the opposing wall, shattering into a thousand pieces.
He had considered giving the squire a promotion, but now with this humiliation, he had half the mind to hang him, but he wasn't sure if he could find the motivation to even leave the seat he threw himself into. His Queen held nothing for him, save for discontent. He buried his face into his hands in thought as to how he could pursue her further. He had her. She caved at his confession, but love was not enough it seemed for his wife.
'Maybe it was, but maybe Alice was in love with someone else,' Stayne thought bitterly.
"Tarrant," He hissed under his breath, longing for nothing more but to duel him to the death. Win or lose, he would gain comfort. In victory, he'd have the satisfaction of killing the last of the barbarian clan, in death, he'd be free from Alice's torment. He'd lose Alice regardless, but it seemed she really never was his to begin with as she told him on their long-awaited reunion.
He raised his head free at the sound of a knock at the door. He rose to his feet abandoning the chair, but regretted the choice once the door was opened. In walked Grail, his head held low, tail between his legs.
"Sire?"
"You had better bring good news, you mange ridden-" and his voice died once his eye took in the sight of the scroll. He swallowed hard as the wolf made his way to his desk, placing The Oraculum before him. "Leave me. You shall be rewarded later." He whispered softly, and the wolf, knowing his place, gave a bow, quietly making his way out of the study.
Once alone with the scroll, Stayne pounced upon it, his gloved hands showing no mercy to the ribbon which kept it secure, tearing it and discarding the remains to the floor.
It was blank, waiting for a question, or the touch of skin to show significance to the holder. Where did he begin? With Alice? With the Witch? Himself? He peeled off his gloves and placed his shaking hands at the sides of the scroll, the blank parchment exploding with images now. Ink swelling up in the pores of the paper to form a picture, one which crushed the man.
The Cliffs of Bain. Just off from the battlefield where Alice had slain the last Jabberwocky, was the sight depicted before him. Beneath the cliffs was the sea. This place was well known. It was once a popular execution site. Criminals that were tried and found guilty would be chained and bound, either forced off the cliff, or slain beforehand, their bodies tossed to the wind and sea. His fears were confirmed when a new image made way. His own image sinking in the deep, cold ink waters. He did not have chains to help him sink, he did not need them to sink, but he was bound, hands tied behind his back.
Stayne's eye welled up with panic, he could feel the water in his lungs now. All was lost then, wasn't it?
"What of Alice?" He asked. If his fate was sealed, he would have taken comfort in knowing that she would survive, that she would reign victorious, be the Ruler of Under, end the White, but those hopes were diminished as the picture changed. She stood upon the cliff beside Tarrant and Mirana, her face shadowed by her locks. She was not bound, but the mad man had her by her arm, and Mirana was handing her a vial. Jabberwocky blood no doubt.
Ilosovic woke with a start, screams tearing through the infirmary signaling the handmaidens to aid the young lad, but not even their coos could kill the boy's cries of panic. He thrashed in the bed, questioning why he could not see, but no one there had the heart to tell him. No one but the king. The White King was alerted once the stable boy was awake and cleared all other plans and notions of the day to make time for him.
Once the king made it into the infirmary, all but his royal guards and Winthrop were left in the room to speak to the lad. It was a rare thing indeed to survive a Jabberwocky attack, rarer still for the beast to only wound its prey and not to finish the job and eat the remains of a defenseless creature. Winthrop suggested it was because the boy was only bones, and even though he had laughed at the statement, the king denied the reasoning.
"This boy has a great purpose. You wait and see Winthrop," stated the White King as they walked the halls and made their way to welcome the boy back to the kingdom and the world of the living.
"Your Highness, it is plain for anyone to see what he is!" Winthrop whispered, anger boiling low within him. "I tell you he may be our demise! He is a Stygian and-! "
"He is," the king agreed. Only a small circle of living creatures knew this information. Winthrop had dragged his betrothed prize to the king once she gave birth to the welp in attempts to rid himself of the woman and to properly dispose of the black blooded mutt, but in his attempts to rid him of his troubles he had sheltered them.
"When you first brought the screaming babe to the throne room, I thought that the lad was the end of me, but I feared what would become of me if I killed the defenseless child of our dead enemy. It is clear to me now that I had made the right decision. Had I tossed the boy into the sea, my daughter surely would be dead now." He reminded, making the knight silent, knowing that this was a mark against him.
Once in the room with the Ilosovic, the king made himself known to the boy, sitting at his bedside.
"My boy, your king is here." He beamed, his cheeks rosy as he smiled to the heroic lad before him. "Do you know why I am here?" He asked.
"Y-your highness?" the stable boy swallowed in fear. "I'm sorry! I swear had I-"
"My dear boy! You have nothing to apologize for! Why, I've come here to thank you!" He cheered, setting his hands upon the injured boy's hand. "You are by far the bravest and most selfless creature I know! Chasing after my daughter to bring her back home safely. If it were not for you, Iracebeth would be in the belly of a Jabberwocky now."
"My King?" Ilosovic asked, confused. "My stepfather, he-"
"Is in the room," Winthrop warned, not wanting the King's new favorite to ruin him through words of fear. Ilosovic moved to a new topic, one which was far more pressing now.
"My King, the maidens won't tell me why I have these bandages on and they won't remove them. I just wish to leave and return to the stalls to work."
"Well, Ilosovic, I promise you, after this day, you will never be a stall boy again, no, why I shall have you be made a squire immediately for your deeds!" The White King insisted before checking his tone. "But my boy, I wish I could pay you for your sacrifice, but nothing I fear can be enough for what you have given. Your life was spared, but I fear your sight was not."
"What?" Ilosovic asked in confusion.
"The Jabberwock took one of your eyes, boy. Only one, but from what I understand they wish to keep you in bed for a while longer. The bandages will be removed once it's healed over enough."
The young boy's head and heart sank at the news. He would admit his body throbbed with pain, but he did not think there was actual damage caused.
"Don't be so down, you are a hero! Why, once you are off of bed rest we shall have a feast in your honor! I cannot thank you enough, and I am sure my daughter will wish to thank you as well. I'm sure your mother would be very proud of you." The King spoke as he rose once more, casting a glance to Winthrop before dismissing himself from the boy's presence.
"He's going to do great things for this kingdom, just you wait, Winthrop! Ilosovic Stayne, the last of the Black line may very well replace you someday. Ha, imagine that, Ilosovic Stygian, last of the Black and defender of Under!"
Winthrop stopped at the comment, casting a glare to his blinded stepson, wanting nothing more than to pluck his other eye from his head now. Knowing this would not fair well currently, the White Knight decided that task would have to wait for the day that the boy was no longer seen in such high favor.
Stayne returned to his room, The Oraculum kept under lock and key in his chest at the foot of his bed. He could not bear to hold onto the scroll for another moment out of fear the Time should decide to tell him of other misfortunes to come.
He was so sure that he and Alice would rule, never in his mind did he think that The Oraculum would show him otherwise. They were fated to be together, and yet they were both doomed it seemed.
He began to pry the armor from his body, discarding the pieces left and right. In his fit of rage and sorrow along with the clangs of his armor, he never heard Alice enter his chamber. By this time he had removed everything save for his leggings, Alice was well into the room. The rest of his body on display for the young woman, and a display it was.
Scars littered the man's body but his back carried the worst of them. She couldn't say if there was an inch of skin upon his back that had not been tainted from injury, her curious eyes unable to turn away until he turned to face her, both in a state of shock.
"I'm sorry, I'll go," Alice muttered, flustered. She made for the door once more, but was caught by her wrist before she could turn the knob.
"Stay. Please?" Stayne asked, hopeful that Alice could distract him, even if for a little while.
"It's nothing, really, I should go, and you aren't decent." She insisted, trying her best to pry free from his grip.
"We are married, you aren't imposing or unwelcomed when I'm in this state," Stayne said light-heartedly before releasing her from his grasp. "And if it was nothing, then I very much doubt you would have made the trip over. I'm sure you have been told that you have the best room in all of the Outlands. You can tell me, Alice," Stayne assured as he backed away to throw on his previously discarded shirt to make his presence a little easier for her to bear. Alice sighed heavily, her body going slack in defeat.
"I wanted to apologize, but now is not the time." She started, but she had already begun, so she may as well finish. "It was cruel of me to kiss you last night and to tell you I regret it this morning. I do not wish to inflict you with pain."
"What are your intentions then, Alice?" He asked softly as he approached her once again but stopped when the Queen fled, not out of the room but deeper into it then paced back to his position
"I do not know," Alice confessed looking to the floor. "I wish only to aid my friends, but I do not know if I can accomplish that now." Stayne would agree with her on that notion having had a glimpse of the future. "Tarrant won't believe me over Mirana."
"He will," Stayne replied, his voice boding, triggering a frightened gaze from Alice. "Tarrent would eat up anything you fed him. He's infatuated with you, and it's obvious that you pine for his affections as well."
"What?" Alice asked in a bewildered tone.
"You love him," Stayne moaned bitterly as he moved to the edge of his bed and seated himself. "You don't have to deny it. I don't know how I could have made myself believe I could have ever made you consider-"
"Ilosovic, I don't believe this is the issue at hand right now," Alice said cutting him off. "I do not wish to discuss affections at all right now. If I have affections for him or not, that doesn't matter, what matters is that Mirana lied to me, so in turn she must be lying about other things, and I intend to find out what." She spoke, her tone sharper than a knife. "If only there was a way to find out now…"
Stayne sighed heavily at the comment. Right on cue he reached down for the chest and retrieved the scroll. Alice recognized it immediately.
"How did you-?"
"I sent Grail to retrieve if, he only came back with it today," Stayne confessed as he handed her the scroll.
Carefully taking it in hand, Alice opened the parchment to look upon the calendar of sorts. The time line appeared, showing yesterday as an important date, though there was nothing significant about tonight, but tomorrow looked promising.
She continued to inspect The Oraculum when she spotted Tarrant and Mirana sitting down for tea, why this was crucial she could not say, but she didn't like the looks of it anyway.
"I can't see a thing of use in this." She muttered, moving to return it to Stayne once more, who took it without question. "Maybe you'll have better luck?" She suggested.
Stayne paused. He didn't wish to see his fate again, he wished he never saw it all. There is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends. But he would look again, only for her. Taking in a deep breath, he unrolled it partially to take in whatever the scroll offered him.
Relief passed over his face seeing that it did not show the cliffs nor the image of him sinking in the sea, but of Alice. She was dressed in a nightgown, but what took his interest was not that she was dressed for bed, but rather the bed she was displayed in. His gaze shifted over his shoulder to compare the pillows in the drawing and those that were on his own bed. She was laying in his bed in this telling of the future.
"What is it?" Came Alice's voice, breaking him from his thoughts. Catching himself he rolled up the scroll once more and looked to Alice, trying to keep face.
"Nothing, the same imagery you received," He lied. Alice gave a nod moving over the discarded bits of armor.
"Perhaps Mirana hasn't thought of a plan yet then, this may be an advantage, maybe we can make the first move," Stayne's mind was already planning his moves as Alice made her way for the door. Stayne took note that Alice was not in the nightgown the scroll depicted and that he would have to wait until she wore the right nightdress to try again for her affections.
"Stayne?" Alice called from the doorway, bringing the man back again.
"Yes Alice?"
"Tomorrow, can we begin training, for sparring that is?" She asked with hope in her voice. A smirk came to his lips and he could only nod in response, triggering a half-smile from her before she disappeared behind the now closed door. Stayne chuckled softly moving to the chest to discard the scroll indefinitely.
"Time, you son of a-"
"Son of a what, Ilosovic?" Time questioned from behind him on the other side of his bed, making the king turn, nearly falling to the floor but Stayne managed to keep on his feet.
"Time-?"
"How is it, even when you are a man yourself, I still only see you as that wet sewer rat when we first met," Time asked circling around the bed and in front of him, plucking The Oraculum from his hands. "Did you enjoy that? My personal favorite is seeing you plunge into the ocean and sink like a stone," He teased, the Black King rather paralyzed for the moment. "I know it's not the way you would prefer to leave, but it's been on Mirana's mind for quite some time."
"Change it," Stayne growled, but pathetically, like a kitten warning off a wolf.
"That is not in the cards, Ilosovic," Time chided. "Mirana intends to see you drown. The least you can do is thank me for offering Alice to you before you die. I'm sure you'll enjoy her company far more now. I'll even spare you the time to corrupt her fully before your execution. How about that?"
"What will become of Alice?"
"Oh! When did you gain a heart?!" Time laughed.
"What will become of her?" Stayne asked again, far more insistent now, making Time smile.
"I'm not sure myself. See, she's what you would call a 'wildcard'. Well, you call her wildflower," Time taunted. "But it is the same I suppose. She doesn't really play by my rules. If it were up to me, I'd have her run off with that Hightopp fellow. What a splendid couple they would make, just imagine the head of hair on their babies' heads!" Time teased, earning a deeper glare from Stayne, making him chuckle. "But no, the best way for me to get her to do what I want, is having those around her influence the behavior I wish."
"What does Mirana want of her then?"
"Oh, well I told Mirana that if she wants to keep the crown and my favor, she has to kill Alice, of course," He said with a grin as he freely walked around Stayne's quarters. "I imagine that Mirana would prefer to avoid bloodshed, so she'll probably opt for sending Alice home, so she can drown, just like you. But then there is Tarrant. See, he doesn't want to lose Alice, not again. He really does love her, even if she's married to you. Poor fool, he'll try to convince Mirana that Alice belongs here… I don't think it'll work."
"Make it work." Stayne demanded, making Time stop in his tracks and turn back to face the Black King.
"Excuse me?"
"Make Mirana see the errors of her ways with my death, or have the madman win her over," Stayne urged. "I don't bloody well care how you do it, but don't let Alice die."
"When did you grow the spine to defy my will?" Time inquired making his way back to Stayne's place.
"When I stopped fearing Death" He growled back, triggering another laugh from Time.
"How amusing. Was that not fear on your face when you saw yourself drowning?" He asked as he shoved the scroll into Stayne's chest. "Don't try to outdo me, Ilosovic, when has that ever done you any good?" He asked with a smirk before he vanished in thin air.
Stayne crumpled to the floor, exhausted, a heated debate with Time was enough to tire anyone. He was just glad that he could manage to stay on his own two feet while for the whole encounter.
He was living on borrowed time, that much was confirmed, but Alice, she still had a chance. More than a chance, the cards were in her favor, even if the house wasn't. If Alice has the will power Time claimed, Alice could very well rule Under in the end of all this, he just had to find a way to keep her from not doing anything foolish.
