whiteshade of blackness 'gaku 16 augt, 2008
affix mode (more than 70 pages…enjoy ^^ —the longest chapter that saru insisted to be one chapter, but added the sub of the sub-titles in the end and chopped it into parts, anyway…haahaaa) it's the background-story chapter bout Zechs; 1+2 still going somewhere in their chapter but saru got a little stuck with the plotting, so going to suspend them for a little while. 'Hope you don't mind a little rerouting…
Children of Winds (Virion's story)
1. The ceremony of a pureblood Prince
This happened about 14 years before the ball in the Grand Hall of Virion's capital was held. A blond boy walked across the Hall's floor in light strides, a smile of pride attached on his lips, the lining counselors gave a deep bow to him when he passed, he replied with a winning smile. He had everything a fairytale prince should have, and more; he had the prophecy siding with him since ages before he was born, even the ancestors' blessings were in his blood. It was three more days before his 10th birthday; as the kingdom's tradition, the crowned-child would be officially crowned at his 10th birthday, before that he was merely a prince without the right to the throne; but after the coronation he's officially the next king and could take his throne when the King entrusted it to him early.
His light strides stopped in front of the King's study, he knocked on the thick wooden door two times, and answered when his father asked him to enter.
"It's me, Father..!" he smiled while entering the large chamber.
"..'It is I'..! I know, only you who would knock twice in this castle..!" the King corrected his only son; he was sitting on his desk with a scroll of report in his hands. From the furrow on his forehead his son knew that the report was of problem.
"Is there a problem?"
The King blew his breath, and tossed the paper to the desk, it scrolled shut by itself halfway. "Well, you could say that. How's the ceremony preparation?"
From the way his father sat on his desk blocking the scrolled paper with his body and changing the subject, he knew that it was indeed a report of problem that needed immediate control.
"Another raging beast?" he smiled with wide hoping eyes.
"You don't ignore me when I change the subject, Young Man, I'm the King..!" his father said authoritatively. His son bounced in his seat with a chuckle. The King gave up, "Yes, yes. Another raging beast…!" he sat back to his study seat.
"May I go there, Father?"
"What for?" there's a cautious tone in his question; he knew what would come next.
"Field experience?" his son answered with his politician face. The King knew his son would insist on coming no matter what he said, but he tried…
"No..?"
He smiled, tilted his head down a little, looking up at his father's face from a lower angle. "Yes? I'll be crowned in three days, and I won't have someone talking behind me that I never even tame a single beast by my own hands…!"
The King looked up, "I will keep saying 'no'..?"
"Father-son hunting time?" he knew he'd win the debate with this, if there was a debate.
His father looked at him closely for some time; his smile didn't falter receiving that autocratic stare of a King.
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The next morning he found himself rushing through the rocky grounds, a blue-speckled white egg a little bigger than the size of his head was secured in his embrace, covered in his cloak. There were various scrapes on his face and hands, he kept his breath low, and hiding behind large rocks while he tried to find the way down the mountain.
There was a loud screech coming from the sky behind him. He ducked instantly behind a reclining tall stone; there was no tree he could make as a cover, so he compromised with what was provided. Still, he cursed in his heart, he didn't think that the beast would find his scent this soon. Must be something to do with his blood scent; beast-tamers were untamed Wild's enemies; of course..! His mind mocked; they set off really early in the morning, with guards and counselors and all; but no one would think that the pure-blooded prince, said to be the strongest beast-tamer in the kingdom's history would be snatched by a beast from his horse right in front of his parading guards.
"….this is the end of the prophecy….!" He mocked at this scandal in his heart, adding the worse fact that it was two days to his coronation ceremony; even now he could picture the people talking about what an unreliable beast-tamer he was. "…'he couldn't even take care of a single raging beast and he wants to rule this kingdom - what an imaginary prophecy our predecessors had'…!" he thought what the people would say behind his back in his head, while keeping his breath as he realized that the beast that had dumped him in its nest to be preyed by its chicks –if that beast was considered as a bird- was already there.
He took a peek carefully; the flying beast was circling the sky above him. A sudden pain behind his back shot up his spine, he tried to slide to the ground easily without making a sound; when he touched the tore leather vest at his back his hand was red. He bit his bottom lip; no wonder the beast could track him down this easily. But the beast's talon didn't puncture the thick leather when it grabbed him, then when…?
His eyes guarded for a second, then he closed them; he was thrown to a nest made of tinder and twigs, the still featherless chicks were not as vicious as their parent, even though they were almost as big as him in size; he found some other eggs in the nest, apparently the beast stole other beasts' eggs too to feed them with, considering that most of the other eggs had been consumed. One of the other eggs was still intact, the one he had in his arms right now; the beast saw that he tried to escape and dove at him, he managed to throw himself from the nest to the ground between some rocks….Ah, the beast's tail must had his back at the time..! He cringed a little, picturing the beast's long tail with a bud-like bone at its end.
Opening his eyes suddenly, he touched the wound on his back again, and tasted his blood after smelling it. It's poisoned. He gritted his teeth at his own carelessness; he never thought that the beast that he'd only seen in books could suddenly take him as a prey. "…dammit..! What's a Callous-tail doing in this kind of age..!" he grumbled in his mind. He didn't see it when the beast attacked him, but he knew that the callus part at the end of the beast's tail could open like a flower with four partitions, inside was a sting attached to a body that formed like a snake.
Yes, Callous-tails were said to be the royal-blood natural-enemies; that's why his tutors said that his ancestors had had them extinct ages ago.
…..unless someone bred them on purpose…! That thought suddenly flashed through his mind. He smirked to himself; no…right? Who would intentionally do such a thing, and for what….? To purposely raise a Callous-tail was a crime that would be sentenced with death, unless….unless the person was above the law..!
"…Uncle Marquisse..!" he hissed; right, he had a son a year older than himself; with his mother, the Queen, died giving birth of him, her family's castle was given to her only brother -a step brother, and that's why he was not a pure-blooded, who seemingly thought that having that castle and the area wasn't enough, he wanted the whole kingdom as well. As the only successor to the throne he'd been very aware of its political and internal affairs from early age.
….so the Callous-tail was targeting on him since he had the most powerful scent of pure-blooded Royal….! What a nonsense! ...someone needs to add that part up in the prophecy…! He thought; realizing that his mind couldn't formulate his thoughts in words anymore, the poison must had his orientations faulty; he'd lost his consciousness soon, and he'd be lucky if he wakes up paralyzed; he'd be doomed if he wakes up insane. The prophecy indeed did not state that while he'd be the most powerful king, he'd have his sanity intact…. At the thought, he unconsciously let out a soft moan; and realized his slip afterwards when he actually felt the beast's eyes on him, even sheltered by the stone.
His heart skipped for a moment….
Then, without thinking twice, he ran as fast as he could through the forest of stones, instinctively made his way between reclining stones that made his cover. He threw his body to the grounds several times, avoiding the tail of the beast, while protecting the egg from the impact; he knew his body would be black and blue under his leather suit, but didn't want to take the risk being stabbed by the sting again…twice as insane didn't add up in his agenda; and supposedly in his prophecy, too…! His mind protested.
He yelped as the rocks under his feet suddenly collapsed, the slide took him down faster but made him an easy prey. While he tried to avoid crashing his sliding body to the blocking stones, he saw the beast coming to get him from the front. Rolling to the sides, he managed to dodge the beast's tail for several times; but a tall big stone stopped his sliding, he stepped both his feet successfully but his sight immediately blocked by something black. He gritted his teeth and kicked something like a big whip from impaling his front. There were two talons at each side of his head; trusting his instinct, he took the small blade from its sheath behind his hips and stabbed the thin layer of skin between the talon fingers and nailed it to the crack between the rocks.
The beast screeched, its sting-body whirled wildly and he took another small blade and hacked it off, the beast's other talon crashed his head but he managed to push his upper body to the side; the spur cut his forehead and the blood blocked his right eye. At the exact time, he couldn't see the beast's tail swung and hit his side; as the air knocked out of his lungs, half blinded by the pain he realized that his body was thrown to the air. He was lucky enough to land on some unstable pile of rocks, that they collapsed and nullifying his falling impact to some extent.
His vision blackened as his body stopped sliding. He coughed up blood; must be some broken ribs, he thought as he tried to roll over to his front. Some sliding gravels hit the egg still held tight in his embrace, he noticed its presence then; he almost forgot about it by the sudden attack. Getting to his knees, he blindly searched for the other blade hidden in his boots, he had four of them secured on his legs; the beast had four eyes, so it was some kind of a fair gamble. The screeching beast flapped its wide wings and pulled its talon, tearing its skin while doing it; but that was only a small cut compared to his injuries, he realized it well.
He smirked; may be not fair at all…he thought as the angry beast launched at him. Praying at his possible-last moments, he threw two blades at a time and closed his eyes.
A strong force knocked him rolling to the ground at his side. A loud grunt heard between the beast's painful shriek; he felt a strong big arm covered his head, "You okay..?!" a frantic labored voice that was too familiar that usually heard in a much calmer tone. Opening his left eye, his blurred vision saw his father's face above his head. "…father…." he croaked. He blew a relief smile, "…I have one more survivor…with me…" the hand embracing the egg clutched the cloak wrapping it tighter.
That was the first time he saw his father smirked, "Proud foolish boy..!" he slapped his son's forehead with the back of his fingers playfully. "So much for father-son hunting, eh…?!" his father looked up at the flying beast that dove at them after circling the sky once. The blades he thrown had one of two of the beast's larger eyes and scratched the lid of one smaller eye.
"Run for a cover..!" his father said while running away from him towards the plunging beast, "The others will get here soon..!!".
"…Fa..ther…!" he hoarsely called out, but his father was already out of his sight. Fighting to keep awake, he rolled to his front; only doing that took him a lot of efforts and time, half awarely he heard the sounds of his father fighting that beast; the air was filled with the will-fight his father was having with the beast. It's no use; it'd took more than four pure-blooded to tame a Callous-tail, …if only he could be conscious enough to summon his Blood…
"Go…!!" he heard his father barked at him. "Get out of here..!!"
He could summon his Blood out; he kept that mind and tried to stand on his buckling feet. There was a loud screech and a heavy groan, he couldn't focus his vision but he knew his father needed help.
"Milliard, GO..!!" that was the last sound his ears could hear, the hot rush of power started to fill his veins and then everything turned black.
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He woke up in his bed. His body felt tight; there was a big round object pressed painfully to his front -by his own hand, he realized after some time. He tried to loosen the clutch and as his whole body felt an electrical shot of pain he moaned, closed his eyes and left his body unmoving. Catching some breath, he tried to move his fingers first; after they twitched and loosened, he tried his wrist, up to his arm.
A cool hand placed on his forehead, "My Prince…" a soft grandfatherly voice; that must be the old Counselor, his floating mind supplied. "You still need some rest..!"
He moaned something he himself couldn't remember what, but the old Counselor said, "…We'll take good care of it…! Everyone was very concern that they couldn't pry your hand from it, that they couldn't treat your ribs properly…."
It seemed that he went on talking about something his mind couldn't process at the time, then the warm presence near his beating heart was pulled away; he tried to voice his complaints but everything turned black again.
He opened his eyes again some time after that; everything was swimming-black. He glanced to his side and felt the warm presence near his head. That repeated for several times until he gained real consciousness.
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He didn't remember that the windows of his room had black bars like a prison cage on their frames. The maids wore black dresses, and the lining counselors looked like black pawns.
No one's talking…..
He didn't remember that his castle was this subdued.
"…My Prince….!" the old Counselor suddenly appeared at the side of his bed. No, he must have stood there silently like the rest of the lining counselors….why was he in black robe…?
"Ah, our traitor has awakened…!" a malicious voice heard; he knew the man barging in his room…What was that 'traitor' about..?
"Lord Marquisse..!" the old Counselor tried something, but the man indifferently backhanded him. The old Counselor kneeled down in fright; and he knew something was VERY wrong…
"Milliard Peacecraft…!" the man said cockily with a victorious smile, "You will be trialed in seven days for your crime of betraying your father and your King..!"
"Reflect on your crime for the time being, crime-boy..!!" the man cackled while leaving his room. He stared at the man's back; his mind still yet to recognize that man's identity even though he'd heard his name before. He heard the old Counselor sobbed silently on the floor.
"….Counselor…." he whispered weakly, "…what's that about…?"
The old man hastily wiped his tears and got to his feet. "Please rest some more, My Prince..!" his wrinkled face seemed older than he last remembered. "You need to recover soon…." there was a tear sliding his old cheek, he wiped it with his robe hand.
He was extremely tired, and his mind still swimming with black speckles; he wouldn't mind to have more sleep. He didn't realize his hand was trying to move to reach the warm presence near his head until the old Counselor placed the round object gently in his curled arm. He remembered he smiled, that was all it needed to make him content at the time.
---------------
His father had died…!
Only that thought filled his mind right now; the standing Councils were murmured with uneasiness.
He stood alone in the center of the Court room….
---------------
"Milliard Peacecraft…!"
…his name used to be longer than that…but he couldn't even remember about it now…
"Convicted guilty for leaving your King and father to his death; therefor will be sentenced for committing a crime of betrayal to the kingdom, and will be exiled for life or for unlimited of time. What is your conviction?" the man sitting on the Arbitrator's seat spoke, he was the one who barged in into his room that day; why was he sitting there..? He's not the Arbitrator..!
"Did you, or did you not leave your King alone facing his death while you ran saving your own life…for the sake of a beast's egg..?!" his voice suddenly heard like a blustering thunder.
He jerked, still wide-eyed and seemingly not aware of the things happening around him. The blue-speckled white egg was still firmly embraced in his hands; '…I have one more survivor…' his words talked back to him. Right then he could eventually comprehend what this absurd ceremony was about; ….he didn't even present at his father's funeral, he was still unconscious at the time.
….it was supposed to be his coronation ceremony; and his father, the King, should be the one sitting up there; and everyone was supposed to be cheering him with bright faces; there should be trumpets sounded and the city's Windpipe playing his ceremonial song…..Where's that ceremony held…? He needed to be there…there was a crown waiting for him….
He remembered his lips smiling….
The murmuring Councils heard again; the man with the smug face on the Arbitrator's seat seemed livid.
"MILLIARD PEACECRAFT..!!" he shouted, the Councils instantly hushed, shrunk in their seats. "Destroy that egg right now in the witness of the Council's eyes; and we won't charge you for premeditated betrayal and just..--!"
The man's words were cut by his chuckles; he remembered that he enjoyed it at the time. Everyone was silent; he remembered he could win everyone with his smile, this time was no different, his mind whispered. That's right; he could win this ridiculous trial of joke, too…
….if only this was a dream; he could wake up now…his mind whispered again.
"….I have nothing to say…." he said still smiling with wide shocked eyes; he knew he was loosing his mind, he was sure the whole room knew that, too; and the whole kingdom as well.
"My Prince…!!" the lining Counselors fell to their knees for his words; he almost found it funny and laugh outright, but his throat constricted; there was a bile gurgling up his neck, he wanted to scream instead, but his lips were smiling. What was it said about having all your pawns down in chess….? The King was gone, the Bishops were held captive, and now his pawns were down; he chuckled at the dramatization of it all. And his knights didn't stand on his side…
….oh, right; the prophecy didn't state that his sanity still intact….! He chuckled again; then turned his back to the whole room and left. He remembered people crying when he passed; some maids touched his head and shoulders for blessing; they didn't say anything. The smug man shouting his condemnation; he didn't even share a glance back at him, he knew where they would prison him as the last pure-blooded; to guard the Dragon was better than entertaining these clowns; and he didn't need anyone to show him the way to the Tower. It's fine just by himself…and the egg in his hands, it was warmer than the air in the subdued castle. It was early winter, and the sky pour down its first snow; at least he thought it was the first snow of that winter since he was unconscious and bedridden for almost a whole month. His breath clouded, but he felt his dry eyes burnt hotly; something must fall out of his eyes, his mind whispered, but he couldn't remember what…
He remembered he was still smiling, climbing the stairs of the Tower up he counted to ten, then back counting from one again as the staircase still spiraling up; he remembered he was still counting even when he'd seated on the bed of his new room in the Tower, rocking slowly embracing that lone egg in his hands.
He counted to ten then back from one again…
…..it was fine..
He was cold but the egg in his hands felt warm…
---------------
There was a cackling boy's face in front of him, he was about his age; he thought he remembered when that face had much nicer expression on that face, even if he'd known that it was faked from long ago. He stared.
A swishing sound heard and the back of his right hand felt like it got burnt; he looked down at it, another swishing sound and his right cheek felt it too, making him looked up again to the thing that the boy held, patted to his shoulder. It was a riding whip. He was cackling -that used to be nicer fake boy….he only stared.
"Hey, come on. Say something..!" the boy said patting his burnt cheek with the whip.
….oh…were they having a conversation…?
"Stop staring and say something..!!" the boy barked as he felt another burnt on his already hot cheek. The blow made him turn his face to the left, he saw the old Counselor kneeling on the floor; his body trembled slightly, there were tears dripping from his chin, hidden by the robe's hood. He wondered why….
"Look, look..!" the boy held his head at both sides with both hands, guiding it a little roughly to look down at his embracing hands to the lone egg; he blinked. "You see..?!" the boy smirked, brought his head to look at his own face up.
"I said, if you don't stop rocking like that, that egg would be a scrambled-blend inside..!" the boy said slowly as if talking to a little child who wouldn't get what he said anyway. Why would he do that..? He furrowed his brows a little. The boy laughed hysterically while patting his left cheek with a gloved hand.
"You don't understand what I'm saying..?!" there were tears in the boy's eyes from laughing. Then he shook his head back and forth with both hands hard, he remembered he let out a sound of protest and those hands let his head go, swaying by the aftereffect. The boy laughed again, harder, holding his stomach and hitting the wall above his head.
He was still looking up at the boy's face with his body bent almost over him, he thought about what he felt. "It felt lighter…!" he said flatly. He remembered the boy's face stared at him, for a second his laughter stopped, then it multiplied as if hearing the best joke he ever heard.
…yes..his head felt lighter…. He thought as the boy fell on the bed he was sitting on at his side, hitting the mattress wildly; at least he thought the boy didn't fake it this time, he didn't remember that the boy had a sincere laughter in the past. After desperately controlling his breath, the boy stood again; his face was red and he was wiping his laughing tears, still chuckling a little.
"…you're funny…" he chuckled as he went to the door of the stairs down, "…Crazy ex-prince..!!" the boy added before he shut the door roughly, and he continued to laugh again as he descended the stairs.
He remembered watching that boy left; a few hasty sounds and then a cold wet cloth felt on his hot cheek. He looked down, finding the old Counselor kneeling in front of him; stroking his hot cheek gently with his trembling old hand, his other hand was hastily wiping his tears from his own face. What was he crying for…?
"My Prince…" the old man said with a trembling voice, "I will prepare your supper now..!" he bowed once, and took out something from the basket he had with him, and laid them on the small wooden table in the center of the round stone room. The old Counselor walked back hurriedly to him on the bed, "Please have them while they're still warm..!" he said almost pleadingly, "…it is very cold in here..!"
Three light knocks on the door, "Counselor, if you finished your task, you should go back..!" an armed guard said flatly, then left without any greetings. The old Counselor stared at the closed door for some moment; he took out a pair of thick socks from his loose robe. "…please wear these all the time, My Prince..?" the old voice sounded begging; his old hand put the socks on his feet hurriedly but still gently, then covered them with the loose pants he was wearing and a pair of thin fabric boots that used for indoors wear.
He remembered he only stared at him; the old trembling hands guided him to the wooden chair next to the table, stroked his back affectionately a few times. The guard was clearing his throat at the slightly opened door, and the old Counselor halfheartedly left him to the room alone.
After the aftereffect of the shakes gone, his lighter head felt heavier than before; he blinked at the black bean soup and medium-sized loaf bread on the table next to the bowl. Looked at the lining small tall-shaped windows at the wall, he dragged the chair with one hand to the window side; sitting with his knees bent still embracing the egg between them and his front, he started rocking slowly again, counting to ten and repeated from one again.
The snowfall made the scenery white, he stared with wide eyes as his black-speckled vision turned white again; but his surrounding wasn't bright anymore.
The sun was not shining in the sky anymore…
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The underground part of the Tower kept him entertained every time he went down there; the Obelisks' faces always greeted him with their odd voices. He remembered his smile wasn't his always-blank smile there.
The Dragon's unmoving figure was still as he remembered when he first introduced to it several years ago by his father; breathtaking and always made his heart skipped a bit. He remembered he always looked at it with a yearning feeling; he rubbed his chin to the egg in his embrace as he thought about it.
Suddenly the wuthering winds from the large hole in the center of the floor stopped blowing. A commotion heard from the spiraling stairs, and a few men came down with weapons in their hands.
He turned his head back to the end of the staircase from his standing spot in front of the dragon's wall; the men stopped descending after they reached the last stair, seemingly afraid to step on the sanctified room's floor.
"Prince Milliard..!" one of the men greeted him as they saw him staring levelly at them. He stared.
"We are here to rescue you, Milord..!" another man spoke behind the first man. He stared.
"Lord Marquisse will keep you here to death; so please come with us..!!" another man spoke. He stared back to the Dragon's wall which had dimmed to common black glaze-stone again since the men entered the space.
….as if he hadn't known that as a fact, his mind whispered.
"Are you here for the Dragon..?" he asked softly.
The men seemed a little taken aback by his calmness; no, apathy was more correct.
"Milord, we are here to--"
"Are you here for the Dragon….?" he asked again, his voice was echoing a little by the room's air. He could hear the man gritted his teeth behind him, from across the spacious room separated by the deep hole in the floor; they knew that only the little prince who had the right to be in that chamber, they were a little overloaded by the weight of that clear soft echoing voice and the invisible presence in the cavities alongside the wall.
"…No, Prince Milliard…!" the first man answered with a defeated tone after taking a few breaths.
"Then you have no need to be in here. Please take your way out…!" he said apathetically with a soft clear voice.
"..But, we're here to--!!" the other man half shouted impatiently.
((Sire has told you to get out..!))
((Please leave!!))
The Obelisks masks said in unison in the glaze-stones circling the bottom of the room, the clipped booming voices startled them and made them shrunk in fear. The eased winds started to blow again from the hole in the floor, traveled up in invisible spiral currents. As they felt the blowing winds closing around them, the men looked terrified.
The dark cavities lining the walls up started to let shriek-like sounds, and then came shooting out some shapeless specters that swirling towards them, some even penetrating their bodies and brought them in their mad swirls around the round room before taking all of them into the wuthering hole in the floor. "Prince Milliaaard…--!!" the man's shout was still echoing carried by swirling winds.
He didn't spare a glance at the now gone men. The Dragon in his space was more interesting than everything, right now.
Suddenly a pair of tattered black gloved hands grabbed his upper arms from behind and lifted his body from the floor.
"Are you out of your minnnd…?!" a familiar hoarse voice asked with a flat angry tone.
He tilted his head up, knowing whose voice it was. "ArrenBone..!" he greeted with a smile; "I thought so, they wouldn't have managed to come inside without some particular guilder's help…!"
The pale sickly looking young man let his arms go; something black emerging from the man's shadow on the floor liquidly supported his feet to keep him up at the same line with the man's eye-level. "They came to get you out of this place…" he said flicking his head to where the staircase ended, his bored tone was his characteristic feature.
"How much..?" he stared with clear wide eyes.
ArrenBone stared back at his eyes for some moment; "…Not your concern now..!" he said with almost a bothered tone.
He thought for a while, or at least faking it; then said, "Well, then…you should return them half of the payment, since I'm not coming with them..!"
The man chuckled his characteristic out-of-breath chuckle; "Why does your not coming with them reduce my payment half, eh, Blond brat..?!" he smirked while gripping his vest's front with both hands.
"Because it's 'take us to bring the prince safely from the Tower' I assume..!" he said levelly. "Since you only managed to take them to get in here..--"
"I get it, I get it..!" ArrenBone brought his hands up in a surrendering gesture, "…brat..!!" he added childishly, that made him chuckled.
"Why didn't you…?" the man asked surveying the dark round chamber.
He, too, searched the room in fast observation; the Obelisks didn't awaken by the guilder's presence, it must be because that they didn't find him as a 'person', his mind supplied. "What? Getting rescued by those people..?"
"You know, your dear uncle, Lord Marquisse, rules viciously without mercy up there..!" he sounded uninterested; "Some faithful people would still be hoping for the rightful Prince to take his Lordness…"
He silenced for a while; "…some faithful people would want a cast-out prince to be their stringed puppet, 'Bone..!" he said with an adult's eyes. "If I get some 'mercy' from the Lord Marquisse and taken as a state's prisoner in the castle's prison, some 'faithful people' would easily be able to come to my rescue, and make an uprising against him. And that will give him the reason to kill me, won't it..?!"
"At least in here I'm safe; ….from those 'faithful people' and from the Lord. It's fine..!", to some ears those words could be heard like a desperate cry for help, but the older man didn't point it out for his ethics said that it's not really his business.
"..For now!" his sharp stares told the man enough of what he wanted to confirm by his own eyes; he let the boy down on the floor again.
"Pfffth..! At least you could show your close people that you care for the kingdom's safety, brat Prince..!" It was as if the man didn't want people to find him guilty, searching out reasons like that.
"Yeah, it's not like I live in luxury in here, Master ArrenBone, Last Headmaster of the University of Shadow-craft, Sir..!" he retorted with a flat bothered tone; he was actually pointed out the title that such a person with that capacity shouldn't be somewhere out there doing guilder's jobs just to earn some small coins or killing time, but the said man seemed like he didn't even care about his headmasterness even if people slap it on his face like a duel-sign glove, since it's not theirs...
"Well…" ArrenBone turned his back and looked around, to the edge of the wuthering hole; "How about you pay me, and I'd get you somewhere out of their reach..?" his almost grimacing smile showed on his face; that meant he's up to something.
"As you see I don't have anything I could pay you with, 'Bone..!" he sighed a smile, that guilder was sometime so childish that people failed to see his deadliness; but sometime he himself too content with his ability that he failed to see how much of an honest kind he was. He never hated this man, from the first time they met in a murder attempt set by his uncle, and he was forced to pay the guilder his treasure at the time; somehow that guilder fascinated him. The later coming piece of information made him have some respect for the man, since he was actually the present Headmaster for the last remaining Shadow-University existed between the OWL's 'Scape and the deep uncharted territory. They said geniuses usually the eccentric kinds; …or was it idiotic-looking kinds? His mind commented.
"Hmmm…" the hunched wobbly figure faked a thinking pose, "…how about an egg..?!" his brows lifted up above his sleepy-drooping eyelids made a comical expression on his face.
"The Dragon…?!" he said with a face showing the impossible.
"Hahahh.., funny. I said an egg..!" his grimacing smile got wider with a suggestive stare.
"The Dragon?!" he repeated with a more pressed tone, with an irritated face.
"I said an EGG, brat; not a Dragon's egg –wait, the Dragon lays eggs..?!!" the man hurriedly limped to peek at the Dragon's space, and stood frozen with his hunching pose, observing fixedly.
He turned his face at him still with squinting eyes; "….it's a MALE Dragon…how could he lays eggs….?!" the man asked with a slow annoyed tone.
At that he blew out his breath in a repressed laughter, running away from his taller figure. "Are you toying with me, Blondy-brat?! Give me that egg for down-payment…!!" the man extended his hand to catch his back.
But he turned and kicked the man's shin covered with his long tattered layers of pelts; then running away again up to the spiraling staircase.
ArrenBone let out a choked 'eeckh' sound that almost sounded like a stumped mouse; it made him laughing out loud.
"I WON'T give you a hand when you asked me to help you lateerrr…!!!" he shouted with his hoarse breathless voice.
"I won't ask your help, anyway…!!" he shouted back from somewhere up the stairs.
"Brat..!!" the sickly pale man looked really sick just from shouting.
He blew the man a raspberry, hooked one end of his lips with his forefinger to make a face on him. That sickly man always found out what to be blackmailed out of people; but that was one of the things that fascinated him in the first place.
He'd be doomed if he were to ask a guilder's help to stand against his own people; how ever those people were found faulty. That was the only pride still left in him for being the rightful prince…
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In the winter of the third year in that Tower, the old Counselor who had been like his own grandfather died without him knowing. He'd been late for half a day bringing him the adequate food they'd allowed him to eat in that place; he didn't thought much of it at first, he thought that someday the old man would become bored treating him like a prince while he's nowhere near even a commoner's status, anyway. The guards at the lower doors took the basket of food exactly at noon, saying that the old Counselor was found dead on the stairs; his old buckling feet couldn't support him to climb the many stairs anymore, and he must have fallen down and broke his neck. He was killed instantly. The guards didn't even bother to act like they cared for that said old man.
He stared at the closed door after they left.
There were many things he'd taken for granted in his early live; he didn't realize that he still could waste his important things like that, even though he had almost nothing left now.
Suddenly he was very aware that the old man had loved him with all his might all his life; and he'd always thought of him of only fulfilling his duty, that it was his right to receive such loyalty from his minions.
It was not simply about loyalty after all…
The food in the basket didn't pique his interest. Something about the closed door made his eyes glued to it, so he dragged the one chair next to the table and put it facing the door a couple of meters away; he sat there for the longest time, stroking the egg between his bent knees and his beating heart. For once he'd forgotten to count….there's nothing else to count anymore….
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