whiteshade of blackness 'gaku
Children of Winds (Virion's story)
2. The winter reflected in a baby-beast's eyes
In the autumn the next year, the egg started to crack. It took two days until it hatched; he waited with worries, and blissfully welcomed his other-survivor to his humble company.
To his surprise, the beastling inside the egg was very much of humanoid-form; the distinguishable differences were only for the beastling's red-colored skin and some white-fur linings that intricate its feature, and the pair of wide almond-shaped eyes that would put any blood-red gemstone to shame with their clarity.
He blinked after staring too long at the beastling staring back at him with its unique eyes. "…you're…" he searched his mind, "…a baby…!" and added as if asking the beastling for confirmation. The beastling cooed with a pigeon's sound and curled its hand as if catching his figure looming over its eggshell.
Scratching the back of his head, he looked around the round stone room, and the ceiling, and back to the cooing beastling now moving its four limbs in the cradle of the eggshell. "…I have a baby-beast…!" he stated with a distracted tone.
Walked around the round stone room, he glanced at the eggshell on his bed sometimes, tidied up some books on the already neat shelf, distractedly cleaned the glass of the small tall-windows that reflected his perplexed face with a piece of cloth, set the drapes down to hide from the reflection of himself, then set it tied again at the sides, then after some thought he set them down again as if wanted to hide from the world.
He walked back to the direction of the bed, kept a couple meters distance for only enough to see the beastling's eyes stared at him. It looked content in its cradle.
"I'm 14, I have a BABY….!" he scratched his head again. Walked closer to it, he closed his eyes facing the ceiling and counted to ten; then looked down in a snap finding the beastling cooed with a jolly face as if finding his actions funny.
"….it's a baby..!" he reported back to his baffled mind, as if expecting that his mind tricked his eyes before that.
"Well, you sure are a survivalist…I sometimes thought that I had damaged your egg and you wouldn't hatch..!" he tried to divert his baffled mind by talking to the beastling conversationally while wiping its body from excess liquid from its eggshell. After that he cleansed the remaining part of the eggshell to be used as the cradle at the small sink at the other side of the wall. The beastling cooed louder and started jerking on the bed; he hurried to it while drying his hands with a small towel.
"Yes, yes..! Are you lonely being alone on a stranger's bed..?" he gasped realizing something; "Oh, should I not have cleansed the eggshell off the hatching-liquid..?! It smelled different from your natural smell, right…?" he said apologetically to the beastling on his bed, it was instinctively suckling on its fingers now, trying the feel of it one by one.
He chuckled at its instinctive experiment. His baffled mind had calmed down a little; "Now let's see if you're a baby-beast-boy or a baby-beast-girl…!" his face flushed at the later part, he never had a sister and to suddenly nurture a baby-girl would feel like molesting her instead. He cleared his throat and readied his mind; pulled both the beastling's feet up gently, closed his eyes while pulling them apart with both hands; when he opened his eyes again he cried.
"…aaghh, it's covered with thick furs..!! I'm doing immoral things, Ancestors forgive mee…!!" beating the mattress faced down, his mind pointed it to him that he was supposed to have realized it that thick white furs being THERE since the first sight. He heard someone chuckled and going madly at it; after gasping for some breath he realized it was himself chuckling.
The beastling kicked its feet jerkily several times, cooed and let out a jolly shrill-sound at him. He wiped the tears from his eyes, staring at the baby-beast with a relief smile, while his upper body still slumped on the bed; "…are you laughing at me, beastling..?" The beastling shrilled again seemingly happy to the voice of him talking.
He cleared his throat again; "Alright..! Sorry for checking on you like this…" he sat up and pulled one of the beastling's feet up. Feeling up is more correct..! His mind pointed to him with a matter-of-factly tone. "Shut up…!" he closed his eyes feeling a hot burning sensation on his face.
After a moment, he froze.
A moment later he still froze….
And some moment after that, his mind pointed to him that he was still frozen….
Putting down its foot, he stared it wide eyed; "….you're genderless…!" he said flatly.
He slumped on the bed, looking like a senile old man with empty shocked-stare; "…I rocked you too much while you're still an egg and blend you completely and made you genderless…!"
He remembered someone said something like that some time passed….
……….. "….I need a drink…!" and that's the conclusion of that.
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He tried not to notice the funny face the Counselor who brought his food was making; just kept rocking his body slowly with the eggshell in his embrace like when it was still a round egg, while letting the beastling inside it suckling on his forefinger contentedly.
After a few minutes not moving by the closed door, the Counselor eventually moved to his task setting the food on the round wooden table in the center of the round stone room; after that task finished, he stood frozen again staring at the creature occupying the broken eggshell suckling contentedly at the presented forefinger like a pacifier.
They both silenced, only the soft suckling sound was heard beside the hard blowing winds outside.
"…should I…" the Counselor started slowly, "…bring some broth, too, Sir…?" he should be given applause for keeping his calmness.
"No. It's fine..!" he answered him fast.
The Counselor nodded deeply once for leaving; but before he got to the closed door, he stopped and turned back hastily, standing in front of him who was sitting on the bed with bewildered eyes.
"Sir, are you..--?!" before he finished his question, the beastling yawned and let the man see the blood from a nick wound on the tip of the bigger forefinger it was suckling, then closed its small mouth on it again.
The Counselor instantly fell to his knees; "Sire!! You shouldn't…--!" that's the first time that man ever called him with an honorary title beside 'sir', and in a very loud voice, too...! his mind complained.
"I said it's fine..!" he dismissed the man with a crisp tone. The man seemed stunned by the authoritarian stares in his ice-blue eyes; he snapped his mouth shut in a click, and after being silent for some time he took his leave, shutting the door softly as if not wanting anyone to notice his humble figure.
He sighed and loosened his stiff body after he was alone with his beastling; "…I feel like a premature father now….!" he said to himself, the beastling jerked bouncily in the eggshell. "Yesss, you like that, don't you…?" he talked to it and felt lifted when those red eyes drooped gently at him.
Staring at the far scenery from the windows, and the reflection of him cradling the baby-beast in its broken eggshell, he voiced what still bothered his mind, "…I'm 14, I made a baby genderless…..!" he reported to no one in particular. The hard blowing autumn winds answered him outside, some sunlight beams penetrated the grey layers of clouds, he could smell the cold weather coming from the direction of the shorelines.
This winter he wouldn't have the warm presence of the round object always embraced in his hands anymore, his mind whispered.
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He climbed up the spiraling stairs from the underground, crossing the landings to his room, he was surprised enough to find the Counselor crouching on the floor, tidying the mess scattered around his room, but he didn't show it. The beastling held in his left hand pulled at his hair a little.
"…Sir…!" the man greeted him from the floor. He stared; his step cousin must have paid him a visit while he was in the underground chamber.
"Just finish your usual task, I'll take over the rest…!" he said lightly to the man.
The Counselor bowed, "I can't do that, Sir. It's bad enough that…--" he didn't continue.
Now, that's why no one should call him with honorary title with that loud of a voice; he thought, but kept it to himself.
Sitting on his made bed, he chuckled at the beastling who reached blindly to his face. That made the Counselor turned his face to them; the beastling had grown fast in just a couple of weeks, its remaining eggshell couldn't fit its size anymore; it's strong enough to crawl on its own now. The man furrowed a little at the jolly cooing beastling.
"It's Bland…!" he said conversationally without needing to be asked; "He's this stressless..! And a glutton, too; look at his teeth!" he chuckled at the obediently yawning beastling showing its sharp teeth to the Counselor.
"Sir, you shouldn't keep feeding it with your..--" the man stopped as he stared him back levelly; and he obediently get back to his task tidying the messy room. He had not much of things in that room, so it didn't take a long time to do it.
The Counselor set his food as always, there was an addition of some mountain fruits on a small dish; it seemed the man especially plucked them for the beastling. He bowed and headed for the closed door.
"Thank you…" that soft said word stopped him and he bowed once again, closing the door as soundlessly as it could.
He walked to the table, picked up a red mountain berry and tried it; it's sweet enough for his taste. He took another one, picked the seed with his teeth, crushed it a little and brought it to Bland's mouth. The beastling must have thought that it was his usual meal seeing the red juice sliding his fingers for he swallowed them enthusiastically, but after a couple times of suckling, his face cringed and blew them forcefully out of his small mouth, making a complaining sound repeatedly.
He laughed at the wildly thrashing beastling in his hand; "I thought so, too; just introducing you to other tastes…!"
The beastling stopped his thrashings at his voice; his red eyes seemed to be questioning him about something. "Here, usual treat, right..?" he pressed his forefinger to the pointy edge of a piece of eggshell he hung around his own neck with a string like a pendant, made it bleed and stuffed it to the welcoming mouth. His Bland made a low purring sound while suckling heavily; he blew a breath to his beastling's contented face, "..glutton!", the small hand reached out to touch his face as if offering his own smaller fingers to him.
He chuckled, "No, I don't need some change, Bland…!"
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He found his room in the messy state more often these last weeks, sometimes it was in the interval of 2-3 days; he managed to avoid meeting his step cousin by slight premonitions and took his refuge to the underground chamber where he, nor others, wouldn't be daring enough to enter and pick on him intentionally. Truth was, for knowing himself being the unrightful Young Lord, his step cousin wouldn't even dare himself to enter the doors to the stairs heading to the underground chamber; he was terrified if the Obelisks would find him faulty and send condemnation on him.
The good thing out of it was that the Counselor could slip one or two new books in his bookshelf while he was tidying it. There was sometime a little note of news report, about the kingdom's affairs; uprisings, taxes, new unavoidable rules, victimized parties, latent warfare, and other things that could be scribbled in a little piece of paper. He disposed those papers into the wuthering hollow in the underground floor, telling himself that he should wait for his time to come, and be patient with this. Turning back from the hollow, he touched the Dragon's wall once; it darkened again, and he climbed up the stairs to the landings.
The night was quite clear for a cold mid autumn night; he thought he should hurry and get back to the bed where he left his Bland soundly sleeping. A little cooing sound almost unheard made him looked up to the Tower's top, where stood in their glory the statues of his kingdom's symbol. He thought it was just a night bird's sound, but a little pull in his heart made him looked up and stared fixedly on the ray's part of the statue.
He widened his eyes in shock then ran hastily climbing up the spiraling stairs to the uppermost part of the Tower, using his arms to support his body from falling over the void in the middle of the round Tower in his frantic. The doors to the top landings of the Tower seemed to not cooperative with him, he cursed at the heavy panels and forced them to open pushing with all his might. He crouched on the top landings to catch some breath, and tried to calm himself; he didn't want to get hysterical and surprised his Bland.
"…Bland…?" he tried as he got back to his feet; he could hear the beastling cooed happily answering his call.
Getting down to the tower's ledge where one of the statues raised from the sides of the Tower's wall, he tried to call again. "Bland, it's me…do you hear..?"
A pair of clear red eyes glinted at him by the moon's light; he looked up and fastly said "..stay there, Bland..! Don't move, you understand me..?!"
There was an enthusiastic shrill coming from the beastling crawling on the uppermost ray that would be getting to its end soon. He climbed the axe-part of the statue calling his beast over and over, trying to get his attention enough that he'd stop crawling to the end; while he worried that the beast would take a shorter route to him by jumping off its length's edge.
His Bland sat near the end as if waiting for him to come, the ray-part topside was wide enough for a baby to crawl on; he cursed as he was forced to balance his steps on the narrow path, ignoring his mind which kept pointing at him that the Tower was about 80 stories high from the ground of rocks.
The beastling jerking happily pointing something in the far sky; his heart exploded in his chest seeing his swaying small body. "Stop..!! Bland look at me!" he called out. The beastling seemed to understand and looked back at him; he made a calming gesture with his hands. "Don't move, alright? I'm coming to get you, wait for me..!" he begged. A strong wind suddenly blew on him, he gasped as his body almost toppled over the edge; he threw his body down clutching the narrow ledge with his four.
Suddenly a shrilling coo heard from his front; it was just several steps away, and his Bland was out of sight.
His heart stopped.
"Noo!! ...Bland, answer me..!! Bland?!" he frantically shouted, searching with his eyes that he even almost blown by the gush of wind over the edge. The strong winds blew for some long minutes; he closed his eyes desperately clutching on the statue's ledge, thinking the worst about his beastling.
After the winds calmed down, he straightened his body, realizing that his little beastling wasn't there anymore. His body trembled uncontrollably at the realization; he gasped out for breath, his eyes started to burn despite the cold air.
"Bland….?" He called with a small trembling voice. There was no answer.
No..! his mind denied; gripping his hair at the sides of his head roughly. "…Bland? It's not funny..!!"
There's still no answer except the sound of wind blowing. He gritted his teeth, feeling out of air, and started to hyperventilate; looking down the dark depth that provided no answer.
"…HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME…--!!" he shouted with anguish but something bumped his back and made him fall off the edge. It felt like a slow motion as he fell down; he remembered he fell with his back facing down as he recognized the smiling moon in the night sky getting farther and farther away.
Then, something familiar closing in on his falling body from up there; it was his little beastling reaching out both his small hands to him; a little relief warmed his heart as he caught his small light body in his hands again. A little logic in his head supplied the possibility that he was falling face down and managed to catch up to his falling Bland because of his heavier body. But the smiling moon he was seeing in the farther night sky was denying his logics.
Another sudden gush of wind around him, aside from what his falling body was making, and gradually his falling stopped mid air.
He blinked his wide shocked eyes several times. The smiling moon didn't get farther anymore. Feeling the winds with his whole body, he knew that he was in mid air.
Floating..
He blinked his eyes again; glanced to each side several times, as if expecting to find something that his logics could accept. A little voice in his mind whispered that it must be just his imagination, that he was in fact still falling, and that him having this kind of imagination could only meant that he was actually in the verge of death, somewhere in the reality outside this delusive imagination.
A chuckling coo made him aware of the beastling in his arms; Bland let out a happy shrill, pulling at his blond hair. The winds around them danced spiritedly. That's right, it was as if the winds were a living invisible hands supporting their bodies; or more likely his body, as he felt the beastling's body tried to float away from his hug.
His body shook again, one hand lifted to cover his face; he chuckled madly with a breathless sound, truth was he was really out of breath at the time.
"….you're a wind-user…!" he said to his frozen mind, and kept chuckling until he wanted to hit himself to stop it from chuckling.
The Bland in his arm was making a contented sound, he looked like he was started to get sleepy. "…Bland, listen to me. Bland..?!" he patted the beastling's back a few times. After a pair of sleepy red eyes looked at his, he pointed up to the top of the Tower; "Take us back up there, okay…?"
The sleepy eyes blinked a couple of times slowly, but the beast complied as the winds started spiraling around his whole body; and as he felt that it was getting lighter, his body was floating to the top of the Tower again. A little voice in his mind pointed to him that he could run away instead, but his pride didn't budge.
At the Tower's top landings, after the winds put his body down, and dissipated into the night air back; he felt something slowly built inside his chest, it felt like a cold hard thing with spikes on it, and it grind on his heart painfully; and as it grew bigger he put the little beastling on the stone landings from his chest. The red sleepy eyes opened halfway in confusion, they asked why its nurturer had put it down on the cold stone floor again and stared it down as if judging it.
He knelt in front of his beastling, watching it try to crawl back to his warm hands, he felt that spiky thing explode in his chest; suddenly, without his mind even realizing, he lifted his right hand up, and brought it down with a wide swing. A sound of impact heard, his eyes saw his beastling's body thrown several steps away; he stood and walked to it in fast strides, then repeated what he did before, over and over.
A choked shriek sounded desperate in his ears, his mind didn't care to think about it; he only felt his right hand moving up and down, it felt good, his left hand was holding something down, keeping it on the floor. Another one of choked yell, and another, and another, and he thought he heard someone cried with anguish, someone so familiar. He felt like he wanted to sooth him, but his eyes didn't see who it was; so he blinked them to clear his sight from the blurry wetness, and he blinked again, and again. As he felt his breath caught, his mind let his eyes to see what was before him...a baby beastling about a 2-years old infant's size stared at him with a desperate stare, asking with its wet eyes why its nurturer hurting him so badly.
He took a deep breath, but it was caught in his throat; he tried another one but only managed to make him choked, so he dropped his kneeling body backwards, back-pedaling with his hands and feet to get away from those hurt eyes. He tried to breathe at some distance away, his eyes still staring unblinkingly at the beastling on the floor; its lips busted and bleeding, its nose too, a small cut at the end of its left brow was bleeding quite a lot, the blood from it was smeared on its cheeks with palm-marks printed on them, so many that they didn't look like the shape of a palm anymore; the red skin of its face was a thick blood-red, like the color of half dried blood.
He heard someone babbled about something over and over with a desperate tone, he strained his mind to translate it.
"....think that you could...--!!"
He took some breaths some more;
"......waste my life like that...?!"
A choked cough;
".......you think you could leave me...?!"
A wheeze and some painful sobs;
"....who do you think you are to show me Death...?!"
Ah, that's what he was hiding from all these years...
"....I'M NOT WASTING MY LIFE FOR YOU...!!!"
And that was his pride talking, for being the rightful heir to the throne...for being the rightful Lord...for being the foretold King...for being alone in his exile; it's not his time yet...he couldn't waste his life for a beast...
...for only a beast.....
He sobbed again. The beast stared him with shattered feelings shown in its eyes...the beast that he saved....no, the beast that had saved him from his uncle's wrath......the beast that..-
oh, Gods...he'd beaten an infant brutally....!
The winds felt cold on his hot face, he kept sitting on the cold floor catching his breath. His sobs gradually calmed, and his pride stopped lashing out; he stayed on the floor, sniffled and coughed his sore throat out; his wet cheeks felt cold by the night autumn air eventually.
He hugged his head between his bent knees, trying to hide from the world, from the sniffling baby-beast in front of him; from himself. He tried to hide from his pride....
Rocking his balled body slowly, he started to count; when it got to ten, he started back from one again, and again, and to one again...
He didn't know how long he was sitting there like that; his trembling body said that it had passed a long hours. His mind didn't care about it; may be if he kept counting his body would stop living before he got to ten; then he didn't have to repeat back from one again....
A soft rustle at his left side felt warm despite the coldness, he felt someone pulled at his hair gently. Peeking from between his armpit, he saw a small hand clutching a lock of his blond hair like a lifeline; he loosened his balled body, and found his small beastling curled to his side, as if leeching the warmth of his body; while in reality his body was the one felt warmed by his trembling smaller one.
Sniffled once, he scooped that sleeping beast and went back to his humble room.
That night he learned that he could do unthinkable things when his pride do the talking; it was not about his right to the throne, it was simply that he didn't want to die; clinging so desperately to the body he didn't even care of....he knew he'd lost his sanity once.
That night the small beast learned that his nurturer could hurt him; but he couldn't hurt him back, that it was because something in his blood didn't allow it to happen. And that it was not its nurturer's most important someone -or something; that his instinct told him that he could sacrifice it if it was getting in his way to his destined future. That night the beast learned that its nurturer didn't love it the way it loved him...but the clutch of its small hand on his lock of hair didn't slacken.
After that, they slept in their darkest slumber where no beautiful bright-dream nor the worst nightmare could haunt them. He held his small curled beastling tight to his beating heart, as if apologizing with his every heartbeat. The beastling still had some tears glistening on the ends of its closed eyes, but it felt content…at the fact that it couldn't hurt its nurturer even though he might kill it someday; that was its safe getaway. The ends of its small lips curled up blissfully…
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Its nurturer didn't speak for days after that night, even though he seemed calm on the exterior it instinctively knew that he was feeling an almost unbearable burden inside. He still nurtured it like usual, gentler even, but didn't utter even a single sound to the beastling nor the Counselor. It missed his voice very much, but it only could asked him with its large inquiring eyes, which he avoided almost all the time.
The abused skin didn't bruise, but there were left blotches of shiny speckles smudges like pearl-dust on the hand prints. They didn't seem to be hurting when he touched them, the dusty speckles must be the beastling's immune system to self-heal its wounds. In his silence for days, he kept it close as many times as possible to his heart, it didn't mind hearing his steady heartbeat like a cradlesong, but from each heartbeat it knew that he was hurting; for it, the beastling knew. 'Muu' it called him secretly, 'the tender storm' in its language it knew deep in its beast-mind.
Sometime in his tired sleep it found that its nurturer cried out a couple of tears onto his pillow. It didn't take as much sleep as it was before the incident's night; the beastling always took the time to scrutinize his sleeping face, which wasn't as guarded as it was in the daytime. Sometimes it got flashes of broken images into its mind when it touched his tears, mindful as to not wake him, but they were mostly consist of jumbled emotion that those broken images were unrecognizable. The beastling didn't prod deeper into the past that flowed in the clear liquid; it didn't want to hurt its nurturer more, it had done something that broke him that fated night, even though it didn't know exactly what it was.
It missed his gentle smile so much…
…so much that one night it decided to crawl out his bed and from his gentle embrace, outside to where the world hid their faces from him.
A young great hawk greeted it from the top of one of the statues' rays, the bird's jet-black eyes shone in the dark as it cocked its head to the sides asking the beastling's intention. The beastling eyes blinked once, 'where is the place that hid its face the most from Muu?', it asked the great bird.
The great hawk flew down to the lower part of the statue, 'not yours to know' the bird's eyes said.
'Muu is hurting and I will find his smile back', the beastling countered with its large clear eyes.
The bird clawed at its head a couple times then shook it; the head and neck feathers spread wide in the night breeze made the bird's head seemed larger and not so much birdlike. The jet-black eyes shone again in the shades of its open feathers, 'what will you do if you don't find it..?' the wild stare asked.
The beastling only blinked its blood-red eyes slowly.
The bird's feathers closed again, it flapped its wings twice to loosen its muscles. 'I witness such a place', the great hawk glanced at the beastling on the top landings and flew into the night. The beastling's eyes brightened and it summoned the winds to carry its body to follow the flying bird, determined to find its nurturer's smile back.
The great hawk flew circling the palace once, then it landed on the pole above a tall framed window, there was a long flag hanging from the pole made from deep blue velvet with an embroidery of a two-headed eagle standing on an upside down hatchet with its lion-tail curled around the hatchet's handle. The beastling floated behind the flag, its red eyes shone in distaste, even its baby-beast's mind could comprehend that the embroidery was different from the great statues on the Tower's top and the emblem felt wrong and hateful.
The window was dim lighted; the beastling stuck its head from the above-corner to peek inside. The room was dark, only the dim moon casted some rays into it from the lining tall windows and a fireplace in the far side wall. From the detailed carvings that accented the window frames and bars it knew that the room must be more luxurious than its nurturer's small round room where he was kept, but the extravagance in that room made it astounded nonetheless; because from little, simple things, and small corners of the spacious room it could feel its nurturer's presence much clearer and brighter than his presence now, like a shimmering dust-flow that filled the air. His nurturer once spent many times in this room, the beastling experimentally touched the window sill with one finger; distant memories instantly filled its mind, images of a small shining boy with his winning smile and fluttering blond hair in the winds extending his small hand to the gently waving red flag hung outside that window, then a tall and charismatic man behind that boy took him onto the window ledge and held his small body by the waist to guard him from falling, they laughed together as the boy managed to catch the red velvet flag and embraced it with both hands close to his chest, the man behind him stroked the boy's blond hairs as the winds carried the smell of plants and rocks into the beastling's mind…- the red eyes snapped open finding it was already landed on its knees on the window ledge, a little carried away by the happiness in that distant memory, the cold autumn night winds felt biting its skin, it multiplied the lonely feelings felt in the oversize shirt that his nurturer put on its body.
The dewy window glass reflected its beast reflection, it ghosted its fingers on the reflection; how cold must its nurturer felt everyday? The reflection of its wide-eyed innocent face didn't answer.
The big fluffy bed's occupant was a bearded man with angry-wrinkles carved deep in his face; even his sleeping face looked menacing in an almost snarling expression. He seemed to be bothered by something from the past, but as the beastling felt some distaste to the man, it left him and floated around to survey the room, finding many bright memories hidden in simple things, while the lavish things hid awful feelings. When the beastling closed its eyes, it concentrated to the distinctive bright memories and found a flow of bright speckles coming from the floor at the side of the bed. The beastling followed the flow and it fingers touched a velvet cloth, opening its eyes it found a velvet riding cloak used as a mat since the bearded man's sleepers were carelessly put on the wrinkled cloak. The cloak had tears and the color was already faded, but the protective and loving feelings waved from it didn't falter by its physical condition. It was the charismatic man's belonging, the beastling knew; that was once its nurturer's nurturer.
Even though the beastling didn't understand the concept of parent, it knew that its nurturer had attachment that was unaffected by time with that man, so feeling instinctively that it had found his smile back, it took the cloak with it back to the Tower. The gap between the carvings on the upper side of the window frame were large enough to let its small body made its way through them, but getting out with its charge was proven a little more difficult than the way in since it didn't want to add more tear to that old neglected cloak. A sharp edge of the carvings cut the beastling's forehead a little, it bled but at the time the beastling didn't even took notice of that cut; and that way it didn't care to look back to notice that there was a small drip of its blood left on the window's ledge.
Thinking that it found a special present for its nurturer, it spread the cloak on its nurturer's blanket covering his sleeping figure; then lay next to his head it finally fell asleep after got too tired watching his unaware sleeping face.
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The cloak was two-layers-sewed, the outer-side was black and its inner-side was red. The black cloth had a cape and a loose hood, while at the inner-side just in the middle of upper-back part there was an embroidered kingdom's insignia and the successor number to the throne. That way he knew to whom that cloak belonged to. The still sleeping beastling at his side cooed in its deep sleep, a smile on its baby face; somehow it seemed utterly happy over something. He didn't put to mind about the creature next to his sitting body, the black cloth spread on the blanket covering half his body didn't look unordinary in any way, except for its neglected appearance, but he stared at it as if it was an alien thing.
The beastling awakened as it felt its nurturer was already awake on the bed, it sat and rubbed its eyes; after yawning as its instinctive waking procedure it looked up to its nurturer with a naïve smile full of expectation, but he was froze staring wide eyed at the spread cloak on his laps, as if being cornered and afraid to move. Noticing that it didn't get the smile it was expecting, the beastling reached out its hand and took a firm grip at his shirt. That made him jerked. His chin was quivering and he so slowly turned to his beastling with jerky movement.
His breaths were labored and he tried to swallow, hard. His quivering lips eventually stretched forming a delirious haunted-smile; the beastling cooed a smile thinking that he'd found his smile back. Suddenly a loud crack heard and its light body thrown to its side and landed near the end of his feet on the bed, it lied frozen instinctively knowing that it had made another grave mistake.
The beastling closed its eyes and held its breath, trying to keep still like a rock but eventually holding its breath made it trembled a little. A small miserable sob coming from its nurturer made the beastling snapped open its eyes; he was tracing a tear on the cloak's back that split the kingdom's insignia into two, that was the hunting cloak his father wore that ill-fated day, the dirty red-colored side had splotches of things ruining its color here and there, but the embroidery threads still hold their testimony bravely; they spoke of royal-blood spilled on them.
He abruptly grabbed the cloak and crushed it with both hands to his chest, crying his heart out openly.
The beastling recognized the painful cry its nurturer made; he was hurting…he was hurting and not smiling…..! …just like what the great hawk told it that night…. It slowly got up on four and dared itself to crawl to him, feeling guilty crushed its heart times worse, the small hand reached out to him and not knowing what to do it pulled back its hand and sat near him.
…..So that was that, a sword tear…his father was murdered……he was killed by another human, not because of the Callous-tail's attacks…murdered..! Someone plotted for his death……for blaming him of his death….someone betrayed them….not him…! He was not a traitor that caused his death…….someone else did…not him….not his fault……!
…if only he was conscious at the time…….
"…--AAAaaaaaaaHHHH…!!!!" he didn't realize he cried brokenly out loud, he thought he heard another hitched sob sounded near him but his mind didn't want to care right now; embracing the cloak like a dead body he cried as much tears as his eyes could, not minding the painful howls he let out, not minding the world, nor the people that might heard him somewhere in the vicinity. He'd been pilling it up inside for too long years without even admitting that pain, without admitting his mistakes, without admitting that he still had feelings over things. He let out a more painful cry sorrowfully, not minding if the whole palace heard him.
"…--uunggh…-hic-" a small sound followed by another moan, and another, eventually reached his ears and gradually brought his mind back to the present. "..Muuu….." -hic- "…ngghhh…", his vision blurred by the tears but his eyes found a pair of blood-red gems dripping with shining tears in front of him, at the side of his feet, just a hand-reach away. The beastling's lips were quivering and made some movement, as if trying to speak, but as it couldn't the beastling only moaned over and over, trying to call out to him with a real voice. Its hic-up sobs were cute and endearing; those sounds would touch any female's heart to nurture it.
He blinked his tears, still sobbing reflexively but not letting out broken cry anymore; the beastling's small hands were furling and unfurling the bed sheet, longing for a touch of its nurturer instead of an unresponsive piece of cloth in its small grips. He blinked again and sniffled, used his sleeve to wipe his runny nose uncaringly. Then, he let go….of that cloak, of the past caging his sanity, ….his heart; and reached out.
The beastling's sobs deepened at the presented open palm reaching out to it; then, it actually cried when plunging its small body into his open hand. No….may be he should start acknowledge the beastling as a 'he' now, because he's not less humane than himself. He wound his arm length around the small body and brought it to his chest, the small hands clawed at everything of him they could touch, and it was the beastling's turn to cry openly now.
…he'd hurt that small creature that much….. So he instinctively embraced him with the cloak still on his laps, rocking him gently, while hushing him to calm down and stop crying. Those words….he should have told himself those words long ago, crying was not a crime…he should have understood that since so many years before. He's such a human-failure…! Now his mind could smile at the irony of it, he tried to laugh at his thought, but it came out like another weeping sound. It made the beastling looked up to his face and licked his tear-stained cheeks, while his small hands wiped at them too. Somehow the busyness made him genuinely laughed, even out of breath, but it was laugh.
Realizing that his nurturer had found his smile back for real this time, the beastling grabbed hold of his head with both hands, as if afraid that his nurturer would lose it again if he didn't guard it.
…….. "..yess…..I love you, too….."
The closed blood-red eyes still dripping their remaining tears out, a couple of wet sniffles answered that whispered sincere words. The beastling felt alive for the first time, and he'd die over and over just to feel that feelings again…
….even if he had to kill; but that thought was yet to enter his innocent beast-mind. Evil craved for innocence to be devoured that even a small unassuming smile could summon it to come, lurking in the depths of the hearts waiting for that unguarded moment that a little grain of hatred would let it out of its cage.
Someone once said that innocence was the seed of evil.
---------------
A larger finger than the beastling's caressing his lower lip woke him, he opened his eyes and froze as he found the face of his step-cousin above his; he was tracing his lower lip as if it was a thing, not even minding that the owner was staring him doing that. His step-cousin who only a year older had grown well in the past years, he seemed like an adult with a stern face and broad shoulders; his fingers were quite callous for a young Lord's, it was warmer than the room's temperature seeing that he was using a leather glove before; it seemed that he had trained his body well. He was still only 15 that year.
There was something flashed in his light grey eyes, he smirked; "…you were smiling in your sleep…!" his step-cousin mouthed.
Feeling self-conscious, he clamped his slack mouth and stared his step-cousin's face a little more guarded. That seemed to amaze the older boy as he chuckled quietly and deep, his eyes side glanced to the bundle next to his pillow, it was his beastling wrapped in his father's cloak like a crumpled cocoon; he unconsciously grip the cloak he was holding loosely before. There was another flash in his step-cousin's eyes; it made him worry, at least; he then straightened his tall body and licked the finger that had caressed his lip as if it was dipped in something sweet; he didn't understand why his cousin did that but it made him feel exposed, his surprise must have shown on his face since his cousin smirked again. But he left the Tower after that, chuckling to himself.
He wasn't sure what had happened in that short moment, seeing the view outside the windows it showed him that it was still sometime after dawn. He frowned to himself then stared to the blissfully sleeping beastling next to his pillow, there was a trace of shiny speckles on the side of his forehead formed like a short line.
…where did you take this from..? Did you leave a trace or something…?! He sighed deeply once, he guessed it wasn't the beastling's fault; he was still too young to even understand anything beside the weather outside, anyway.
A chill ran up his spine, not particularly because of the cold room and the silent snowfall outside. He tsk-ed to himself, messed his hair with a little frustration, grabbed the bundle of crumpled cocoon flat to his front to leech off the warmth from the blissful beastling, and threw his head back onto the pillow deciding that it was still too early in the morning and too cold to wake up. Whatever his step-cousin stored for them could wait until later, it's not like he could avoid his bullying anyway.
The 'later' was decidedly only till noon, apparently, it wasn't that he was waiting, by the way; but like he said, he couldn't avoid it even if he wanted to. The Counselor set his food on the table as usual, but he waited by the wall afterward, all the while keeping his face down, there was a guilty air surrounding him.
He tried not to care about the Counselor's behavior and just sat on the chair in silence with the beastling sitting on the bed and still preoccupied with the piece of the eggshell made as a pendant he'd given from his neck, after inspecting the blue speckles and chewed on it several times, the beastling soon lost his interest with that piece of eggshell and dropped it to dangle from his small neck by the thread necklace. Noticing that his nurturer was going to have his meal, he cooed for his share, too.
"..Muu….!" the beastling called out between his cooing, jerking on the bed with both arms extended to his direction.
"How impudent!! You should call him 'master'..!!" the Counselor suddenly yelled at the beastling; it made him froze in surprise and fear, realizing that this was the first time another person had made verbal contact with him besides his nurturer.
He glanced from his seat at them, his beastling was holding his breath but showing a stubborn face not to cry, trembling a little; the Counselor who usually calm and submissive seemed a little too eager to vent out whatever made him anxious. He took the beastling from the bed, "Bland is still too young to speak..!" he said evenly.
"But, Sir… A beast is still--"
"--a beast? I know that, I'll teach him slowly about our relationship; now is just not the right time yet…"
"…but Sire…." The Counselor sighed with a pleading tone; that title alerted him for he glanced at the man who seemed as if he was entitling the floor rather than him. That made him snorted; ignoring the man's stubbornness he sat on the chair back with his beastling seated on his laps, and took half a spoon of the soup. He though the smell was slightly different, a taste confirmed his guess, it was poisoned; not a deadly poison, but he guessed he would still have physical trouble later. Frowning, he contemplated the poison's effect on his body; right, it meddled with his blood; that means he couldn't feed his beastling afterward.
He let the spoon dropped to the bowl; the Counselor bowed with his face hidden by his loose hood, "….Sire…!"
"You may leave..!" he dismissed the man, who seemed like wanted to be mad at instead.
"Sire..!" the Counselor said again with a pleading tone.
"You may leave, Counselor; don't make me repeat myself..!" he said with an even tone. The Counselor stood still by the wall; his hands trembled a little by his front, then bowed deeply and walked backwards to the door and closed the panel with another deep bow. The man might want him to lash out at him or just blame him for the situation; he knew that the Counselor couldn't escape his step-cousin's orders, so even if he put his loyalty and obedient on scales, being only a Counselor, he couldn't really choose, anyway.
He sighed and rubbed his face, so his step-cousin targeting his beastling now..?!
Took the eggshell pendant to nick his forefinger, he stuffed the bleeding finger into the beastling's eager mouth, a happy coo sounded every now and then; after some period of time the beastling let his nurturer's finger out of his small mouth, the same length as his usual feeding time, but his nurturer stuffed it back into his mouth, there was a slightly colder stare in his eyes.
"Take as many as you can swallow, or you'll starve later…!" he said with a flat voice; not understanding the reason but knowing that his nurturer wasn't angry at him, the beastling did as he said; he feed until he felt so full and fell asleep.
He stared his beastling fast asleep with mouth opened and dribbling a little, his body reclined to his other hand embracing his back, his small limbs dangled from his laps, his belly was more rounded and his face glowed with satisfaction; and the beastling actually snored, even though it sounded something like the sound of a small flute with high tunes. Chuckled to himself with amazement, he mumbled "….so you could actually got drunk from feeding too much, hu, Bland..? Like a small old-drunkard…!" while flicking his numb right hand, it had turned whiter a little from its original color.
Spooning the soup to his mouth, he chewed on the bread a little halfheartedly; he thought if it's only this once he could regulate the poison from his system in about a day, but he doubted that his step-cousin would only give it for this once; besides, there's no guarantee that he wouldn't give him any more dangerous poison next time.
---------------
His head felt lighter, it's hot; the air was scorching even though it was midwinter night. His body felt like falling, deeper, deeper; he never thought that his bed was this bottomless. There were voices jamming his ears, his eardrums were hurting, he wanted to scream so they'd stop, but his throat felt like it was charred, breathing was hurting.
…yeahh, right…..it's not a deadly poison, alright….! His mind mocked.
Cool small fingers touched his forehead repeatedly, he was lying facing the wall, he opened one of his eyes just a slit, light was hurting; his beastling cooed sitting behind his head, he closed his eyes tighter and faked sleeping; his skin felt raw all over his body, he wanted to get out and cool himself down in the piled snow on the landings. He groaned, thinking was hurting; maybe he'd just succumb to the fall, when he reached the bottom perhaps he'd loose his consciousness.
Something soft pressed to the back of his head, small groggy-moved hands encircled his head, something bent above his head shading the light from his face; he opened his eye again, his beastling was hugging his head just like what he used to with the beastling's egg; that thought made him smile.
"…..Bland……'thought you're asleep…" he croaked, his eyelid closed without him realizing it. He felt the vibration from the beastling's body as he cooed repeatedly with worry.
He let himself fell to the hands of his beastling, then.
---------------
It's been a week since that day; he sat on his bed pretending that he didn't steal glances at his beastling sitting on the floor; the small redden lips were thinned and turned downward, there was an unhappy furrow between his white furry brows. Every now and then heard the sound of paper tearing, and a squeaky sound each time those small hands threw the crumpled torn papers away; while the whole time those fiery red orbs burned at him who's pretending to read on the bed.
He sighed in his heart; he hadn't fed his beastling ever since that day because just as he thought his cousin kept mixing the poison in his soup; it's not effecting his body like the first time anymore, seemed like his antibody had built an immunity to the drug's effects, but still it meddled with his blood. He didn't want to risk his beastling's safety and that's why he hadn't fed him to this day. The said beastling squeaked harder as he threw another ball of crumpled paper somewhere near his small feet; that's the third book this week, he'd remembered those books inside out so he didn't really mind his beastling using them to show his anger.
…hmmm…spoilt little beastling..! His mind commented; maybe he should start to teach him some human-rules one of these days. A thought flashed in his mind, wasn't that what his step-cousin tried to do…? But his logics denied it, saying that he was only trying to get to him through his beastling; another side of his mind thought that it's better for him to just keep his head to the situation at hand and not play guessing things he couldn't investigate by himself, so he just continued playing that pretending-game with his beastling on the floor.
After almost two weeks passed from the first time his step-cousin mixed his soup with the poison, he stopped doing it; he thought his step-cousin might just giving an interval or something, as he tasted his soup just for being caution. He glanced at his subdued beastling sitting on his bed, slumped against the wall with clouded eyes trained to his own fingernails he was played on his stomach. He didn't look sick for not feeding almost the whole two weeks, maybe not yet; it was just that his growth rate wasn't as fast as it was when he could feed everyday. And the beastling wasn't as cheeky as usual; he missed his hyperactive Bland, he thought to himself with a smile. Since he didn't get a poisoned soup that day, he thought he'd feed his beastling this evening as his long-delayed dinner, he would just cleanse the leftover poison from his system first before that.
The snow felt nice, soft and cool, it melted in his small hands and the cool water sipped through between his short fingers. Some birds with their black winter-feather circled above the landings, he pretended to look up at them, while stealing glances at his nurturer's door to his humble room. Their eyes met as his nurturer was actually staring at him with a gentle smile and a nice flush on his face, leaning on the doorframe with both hands folded on his front in a relax pose, he looked like he was expecting something.
"Bland, it's cold; come inside..!" he said softly.
The beastling glanced at him again with uncaring stare then back to grey layers of clouds, ignoring the flying birds that were hastily going back to their nests before night settled down. 'As if you care' his eyes said.
He tried to call out several more times, but his Bland ignored him all the same. So, he's really mad…his mind thought.
He walked towards his beastling and bent down, "Bland, let's go inside--.." a small snowball hit him on the face cut his words; his beastling turned at him with a deathly surprise on his infant face, it seemed that he didn't mean it to really hit him. The snow slid down from his face; there were wet trails running down his cheeks from it, the stunned beastling hurriedly moved on his four and stood, wiping his wet face with the oversized shirt's sleeve with his jerky movements.
"It's okay, let's go inside. Your shirt is all wet..!" he scooped up his beastling and walked back into his room.
"See..? You're cold..!" he smiled as he stripped his Bland's wet shirt and watched him shivered on the sink. Fire was not allowed in the Tower, that's what made the Old Counselor was very concern with his well being the first time he moved in to the place, now that he thought of it, he might have shortened the poor oldman's live a couple years worrying over his spoilt Prince back then. After nurturing his beastling he could learn to see through the oldman's perspective little by little, it taught him to be receptive of others' feelings; he might turned into a premature father now, his mind jested.
After hanging the wet shirt to dry, he bundled up his small beastling's body in his father's cloak, took him to the bed, seated him on the laps of his crossed legs, pressing the small shivering bundle to his chest until it stopped trembling. The clouded blood-red gems stared at his face openly, a tinge of fear was in those orbs; his face looked he was started to get sleepy once he warmed up; perhaps he was tired from lacking food as well.
"Here…" he presented his open hand to the beastling's face, "Dinner. Take as much as you want..!" he didn't add 'just don't bite my fingers off' even though his mind thinking it, he was sure his beastling wouldn't intentionally hurt him; he understood it instinctively through his blood-link since after the first time he finished feeding him.
The beastling stared him with wide inquiring eyes, glanced back at the shelf where the basket of his nurturer's empty tableware was kept before got exchanged with a new one by the counselor the next day. He seemed like he was beginning to understand that normal meal should be served and eaten on those things, maybe he'd been thinking about it when his nurturer didn't allow him to feed from his finger. He looked back up to his nurturer's eyes, as if asking him whether it was really alright for him to have his usual share.
"Go on..! Here, this part is more juicy, right..?" seeing that his starving beastling restraint himself, he pulled his sleeve up a little, exposing his white wrist showing arteries pulsing strongly with blood. There was a flash of wild light in his beastling's eyes, perhaps it was his hunger clawing up, but again the beastling looked up at him as if waiting for something.
"What? Just bite it like the way you used to..!" he said stroking the beastling's temple with his other thumb; it seemed like the beastling knew that when he feed from him he was actually hurting him, maybe he thought he'd mind about it and that's why he hadn't fed him these passed days. He sighed, kissed his forehead lightly and whispered gently in his ear, "Look, my teeth are not as sharp as yours; so it would be more painful if I do it for you, okay..?"
Bland eventually surrendered to his hunger, he opened his small mouth and slowly covered his nurturer's wrist with it; he seemed to have some doubts as he lingered doing it, and after licking it a few times as if apologizing, he took a fast shallow bite just enough to make the skin bled. His nurturer's other hand was stroking his back, and that's why he knew the small body was shivering. "What, Bland? Why are you crying..?" his gentle voice whispered in his ear again; he took several more gulps and released the bleeding wrist, licking the broken skin like an animal trying to heal its wound.
"Well, if you're not up to it, you can have your share again in the morning. Just remember that you might not be able to have it for some time after that..!" he said with furrowed brows.
His Bland whimpered long and sorrowful, that alerted him, the small hands reached up to his face as he stood up on his laps, cupping his cheeks with them. Tears welled up from his clear blood-red orbs, his hurting stare asked him questions without words.
'are you sick?'
'are you hurting?'
…he might have tasted the difference in his blood, no matter how careful he tried to cleanse the poison from his system; that's why his beastling misunderstood and thought that he was sick.
He hugged the crying bundle close, "Alright, we'll continue this tomorrow morning, then…" and decided that what ever he'd say to his beastling might be futile to urge him to eat more, he thought that it was still early to sleep, but it's alright to just lay down and coddled him once in a while.
After crying himself to sleep, along with his worries out, his beastling's hunger seemed to win the battle the next morning as he was feeding himself until he looked like he was going nauseous. He chuckled watching his beastling tried to treat his bitten wound with a wrap; he's cute just like other toddlers were, his mind thought, if he were to hatch in the palace with him still being the crowned prince he might not get to feed from his blood at all. But he realized as his left hand felt like cramped for hours after his beastling fed from it that he would be sick if that condition continues, he must find a way to escape the poison's effects at some intervals so his beastling wouldn't have to feed himself to sick, too. He wondered what would happen if the beastling actually overfeeding his blood….or maybe that's what his step-cousin wanted to find out..? He did it just to satisfy his curiosity over such thought?
That thought made him angry; somehow he didn't want to face the Counselor bringing his food that day, so he skipped to the underground chamber with his beastling along until it was way passed noon. When he did come back to his room he was surprised to find a sword-model made of a column-like stick as its blade hidden under the napery. Judging the length of it it's impossible that the Counselor had it hidden in the food basket, he must have had it under his robe, perhaps tied it to his leg. He lifted it with both hands, surprise at the weight of that slender thing. "…heavy!" he complimented; he tried to lift it with his foot, he sweatdropped as it didn't budge. He never imagined the humble man such as that Counselor could have such strength to do something like that, climbing the so many stairs up hiding the model's weight as there at least one guard tailing him; perhaps he was once a swordman before he became a counselor? The man might be concerned about his royal lineage if he didn't get his knightry education properly. His mind thought back; wait, what was the counselors' purpose in the palace-life again..? They're not servants, they had them including the maids; they're not knights or soldiers, also; they're just lining up along the corridors….and sometimes followed the royal-bloods along tailing them acting as an additional shadow; or serve them…ah, there are chamberlain-counselors, he thought……annnd, librarian-counselors, outfield-counselors, legislator-counselors…? And whatelse-counselors…..
Yup, he'd forgotten about that; that was taught to him when he was about 5 or something…. He guessed he was an ignorant spoilt child that time.
He looked at the bigger sized bowl, tasted the soup with the tip of the spoon, coughed at the hot-bitter taste burning his tongue; he furrowed a little, assessing the alien thing's effect mixed in the soup. He lifted his brows in a mild surprise; it actually the medicine that had antivenom effect to the previous poison; but his mind complained at the taste. So he sat on the chair, stared at the things set on the table before him; a cool winter breeze blew in from the door to the landings he left ajar, something felt hot in his eyes. There were many simple kindnesses that had him grown that he'd never realized or appreciated; he'd grow as a better person, that's what he could do to show his gratefulness to those who had given those kindnesses to him all his life.
He smiled, blinking back the tears from his eyes; tomorrow he'd greet the humble man with a smile, he thought.
---------------
He found that exercising his body in the underground chamber could regulate the poison from his system faster, so he could feed his beastling his proper share every three days. To his gratefulness the Counselor didn't mix the medicine into his soup again after that day; he suspected that it was an expensive thing now that his uncle ruled the country viciously; he didn't want to burden others more so he tried to train himself to face what might come his way by himself.
Time passed by without many significant incidents; it's been a year since then, he watched gladly as his Bland had grown to almost a 5-year old boy. He'd learnt to speak simple conversation, he liked to hum songs to himself, and piling pebbles he gathered from down the Tower when he was out playing by himself. Sometimes he brought him some souvenirs from his outing; twigs, flowers, rocks, seeds, sometimes even small animals' bones; anything that caught his interest when he played outside.
Sometime he got worried about the people that might cross ways with him, so he took his chances and remodeled his father's cloak into a robe just like the counselor's, so there won't be some hunters or beast-tamers who'd catch him outside; he realized he might be pushing things too much, but he didn't want anything to happen to his little beast. If that happened he wasn't sure he could face it.
Bland cooed to him as he finished putting the very oversize robe on his small body, he laughed at the sight of his Bland drowned in the black velvet robe, "You must grow at least three times taller, Bland..!", he never realized how tall his late father was.
Bland cooed again inquiringly, even though he seemed like he didn't understand about the situation but he understood that his nurturer was joyful. "Hmmm….what should I do with these..?" he voiced his mind as he tried to trick the fluttering sleeves to a proper form. "Right, I'd just tie them to the back..?"
He laughed, "Like ribbons behind a girl's dress, Bland. How's that fit you?"
Bland tried to move his short hands as he slipped them from the neck opening, but then the shoulders fell from his small form, along with the rest of the robe as it pooled on his feet.
"Ah…." He complained, scratching behind his neck; "Don't, I'm going to make it work..!" he said as the small Beast floated out from the fallen robe on the floor.
"Maybe like this…!" he cut the stitches on the shoulders a little, made them as the openings to slip his beast's hands as he tied the long sleeves around his small waist like a sash and tied them behind. He hummed as he stared at the excessive length of the robe, Bland was floating about his face high while he was sitting on his bed; that's about the height of his own waist, but the end of the long robe was still pooling on the floor. They both stared at it without a sound.
"….You could float higher..!" he summed it up staring his Bland's face seriously.
"…waackh..!" his Bland made a protesting sound, he liked running around when he didn't have to float in the air; especially running around his nurturer's legs when he walked.
"…okay; I'll try to slip it here..!" he slipped the end's rim under the tied sleeves around his waist. The robe got shorter, but the whole proportion of the cloth looked more like girl's nightgown. He snickered to himself and chuckled long, while his Bland made a series of protesting sounds, trying to pull the folded robe's end from his waist. "No..! It got shorter, right..?! You at least can run around with such length, just be careful don't trip on it..!" he stopped the small hands; "Okay? Look, you even have a hood to shield off the sunlight or the rain..!" he put the large hood on and his laughter brayed out as the hood swallowed his Bland's head to his whole neck under his shoulder line.
"……uwAAAACKhhh…!!" his Bland's hands flailed around in his impatience to get rid of the offending thing blocking his sight.
"Hey, Bland, don't do that..!" he caught the flailing hands and waited until his Bland stared at his face, "That cloth is important for me, you too are important for me. Wear it for me, okay..?"
Bland stared fixedly at his nurturer's eyes persuading him soulfully, he succumbed at last, just because he couldn't really deny his nurturer's wish. "…aaaghh…!" he answered with a pouting scowl.
"Good boy..!" his nurturer stroked his head a couple times.
Bland then floated away from him, out to the landing where he used to run chasing the birds; but only a couple steps he tried he already fell face down as his feet got tangled by the long robe. His nurturer's laughter exploded somewhere from inside his room; he was enjoying this, his beast-mind complained, but he liked hearing the sound of his laughter.
---------------
He knew he was pushing it a little over his lines, but he was willing to do it for his Bland.
It was a hot summer, the air was unpleasantly humid and felt salty by the wind from the sea; he was taking a nap with his Bland after exercising in the underground chamber; the heat of the air outside made him sleepy as the underground chamber was always much cooler than the surrounding's temperature. He stirred up from mild sleep as he felt roughened fingers traced his open front lightly, he knew from the scent in his room who it was; opening his eyes a slit, he stared evenly at his step-cousin looming above him.
"You look good..!" his step-cousin said low appreciating him. Then he backed away and dragged the single chair from the table to sit near the bed. Folding his hands, he smirked at the sight of the blond teenager sitting up on the bed, his ignorant beast was still asleep at his side blissfully, he covered the black bundle with the thin blanket but he had already seen it, the black velvet cloth; the blond's eyes stared his grey eyes levelly, being an exiled prince with barely adequate requirements didn't weaken him, he still held his royal-blood proudly. Still made him envious like the first time he set his eyes on him long ago…
He didn't know what his step-cousin appreciated, he caught something unholy in the way he'd said it, but he didn't really understand what he meant; so he just pretended that his step-cousin was talking about his health and nothing else. "You look well yourself..!" he said softly.
There was something flashing in his step-cousin's grey eyes, he didn't avert his eyes from it, something alerted his mind from deep inside him, but he held his pride. "…you don't even understand what I was talking about, do you..?!" his step-cousin's eyes stared all over his figure, as if swallowing him; his eyes paused at the sight of his neck, the long blond locks cascaded on it along his shoulders made him look delicate; the way his eyes stared hungrily made him regretted he didn't tie his hair before taking the nap.
"What do you want…?" he asked flatly.
"You won't regret yourself asking me that..?!" his step-cousin's smirk got wider.
"If you don't have anything with me--…" the sooner he left them alone, the better, his mind warned.
"Not with you, with your little beast, there..!"
He clamped his mouth; he knew it that he was pushing his lines, and it's not like he wanted to hide the fact that he'd put the stolen cloak on his beast, on the contrary he meant it so everyone would see it, right..? He didn't think his uncle would see it as something alerting, though; it was only a floor-mat for him.
"Your beast stole something from my father's chamber, did he not…?"; his mind pointed that his step-cousin didn't call his beast 'it'.
"He was complaining that he couldn't wipe his shoes on a certain floor-mat anymore..!"
He didn't take the bait; he knew his step-cousin was trying to make him angry.
Seeing that the blond's face didn't change, he stopped beating around the bushes. "It's not about the floor-mat, really; it's about the fact that he could slip into the Lord's chamber without anyone knowing it. Who knows what you taught him to do behind--…?" he left it hanging intentionally.
His eyes hardened; "My beast is my responsibility--…" he paused with alert as his much bigger step-cousin stood up from the chair; if they wanted to take away his Bland from him because of the cloak then it would be such a pity irony, right?
His step-cousin closed the distance of a couple steps away and bent his body above his, intimidating him with his taller more mature body; he enjoyed it as the blond clamped his mouth shut half sentenced, staring at his grey eyes from his lower view, his right hand half-consciously went to his sleeping beast as if protecting him. He smirked again, took the hanging shining locks from the side of his face and smelled it deeply once, actually feeling it when the blond stiffened. Then bent lower and slowly craned his neck to whisper breathlessly in the blond's ear, "…if you please me, I might overlook things…!"
After that, without waiting for his answer, his step-cousin closed his mouth with his, pushing the back of his head forward with the hand that was holding his hair before. He was taken by the surprise that his body took physical action before his mind sorting it; he pushed the built chest from his front and hit his step-cousin's face with a fist. "Get out..!!" he snarled.
His step-cousin tsk-ed licking his bleeding lips, he turned with a darkened stare at him and jumped on him, pushing his smaller body onto the bed; both hands strangling his lithe neck with all his strength. He widened his eyes as his breath got cut off; looking up at his step-cousin's crazed eyes he knew he really meant to kill him.
"Halb-….wha-….?!" He tried to call out, both hands trying to pull his step-cousin's hands from his neck futilely; he made a couple more choked sounds, realizing gravely that the stronger hands clutching his neck put more and more power each time he let out a choked sound, as if trying to break his neck to prevent his voice out. He tried clawing at his step-cousin's upper arm with his right hand, his eyes wet by the suffocation and pain.
Seeing at his unbidden tears, his step-cousin barked hoarsely, "You know I always wanted to be higher than you..!! You were enjoying yourself knowing that, huh?!!"
The commotion woke his beast up, he didn't really see it but his step-cousin's left hand swung to hit the plunging beast in the air, made the small body hit the wall hard; he used the chance to struck his face with all his strength he could muster, and kicked his bigger body from on top of him to the floor. The moment he was free, he sat up covering his beast's body with his own, coughing hardly trying to take as much oxygen as he could with his hurting throat as he felt his awareness faltered.
There was a low groan from the floor, his step-cousin stood up staggering a little, snapping his head to the sides to clear his consciousness. He smirked with blood ran from his mouth seeing his crouching form gasping hardly by the wall of his bed, clutching the small beast's form who was hissing and snarling despite his bleeding forehead, preventing the beast from launching himself at him. His step cousin chuckled deeply feeling self-satisfaction, ignoring the bleeding from his mouth dripping hardly to the floor, and the pain.
The blond breathed hard for some more time, "….get out of my room, Halberd..!" he hissed hoarsely with eyes shooting poison. His step-cousin's chuckles stopped at the mention of his name; perhaps he didn't think he remembered it. He gasped as the not chuckling Halberd kneeled on the edge of the bed and bent forward to him, propping his body with his hands. He pulled his Bland and pressed his flailing form to his front with both hands, covering the beast's protesting mouth while he kept him close.
"Then…." His step-cousin began, "…is it okay if I confiscate this..?!" he was going to touch the beast's head.
He sprung to his feet and ran out across the landing to the door to the underground chamber, threw his protesting beast in and closed the heavy steel door. "Don't come in to my room before I say so..!!" he yelled, ignoring his beast's screeches from behind the door; then he came back to his room, breathing heavily as he stood at the door closing the panel using the weight of his leaning body; eyes stared his step-cousin on his bed like a hawk. He was smirking with a victorious smile as the blond took off the loose shirt from his lithe body.
He walked to the bed keeping his head high, "Ten whips for thievery, I'll take them for my beast's deeds..!" he said offering the shirt; that was the hardest punishment when his father was still ruling the country.
His step-cousin chuckled again, went hysterical with it. He stopped suddenly, staring his eyes with a dark gleam, "I could make the lashing pleasurable if you want…!" his left hand already fingering the whip hung from his waist with suggestive touches. He was right when his step-cousin said that he didn't understand what he was talking about, but he could feel it that what his step-cousin suggesting was something degrading; he slapped the shirt to his face, let it fell to his laps.
"If you don't want me higher than you, then don't lower yourself, Halberd..!!" he said with a steel voice.
"Right…!" his step-cousin leered openly, throwing the fallen shirt on his laps aside, he stood before him looking down at his lower face; they were so close their fronts almost touching each other. "Kneel, then…Prince Milliard..!!" he added the last part with a sugar-coated tone, but the evil gleam in his grey eyes betrayed his own voice.
He stared him back for some time; then turned around presenting his unblemished back to his step-cousin, walked a couple steps away from him and knelt down; bracing himself for what's going to come, but didn't show it outside. He was still a prideful boy…
Halberd took his time giving his blond step-cousin his lashing; he wanted to hear his higher voice to sound his pain, but the prideful boy didn't give in.
When he got to count the sixth strike, the door to the landing thrown open and the small beast came shooting in with a hysterical scream. His nurturer's hand was instantly caught him and pulled his small body into his embrace, keeping him down while the hysterical-laughing Halberd whipped him using more strength, wanting the screaming little beast to feel it too. That happened so fast that he didn't remember his pain; after his ten counting finished, his step-cousin stood still breathing hard, staring at the bleeding welts and torn skin on the once unblemished back; that once even the poisonous sting of the Callous-tail didn't leave its mark.
His Bland was crying, screaming until he got a nosebleed…He stared again; no, that blood was dripping from somewhere above his tear-stained face. He blinked; oh, it was his own blood; he must have bit his lower lip broken, he thought as his mouth filled with a tangy liquid. He glanced back from his shoulder, his step-cousin was breathing hard with the bloody whip held limply in his dangling hand; he looked like a child who'd broken his only toy.
…perhaps he did….. He thought as the grey eyes started to get wet.
His step-cousin suddenly turned his body to the door, and left without anything to say, his whip was still held in his hand; that's the last thing he was aware of seeing. He heard the wooden door closed, and he didn't realize it when his sight turned pitch black. There was the sound of a sorrowful howling beast so very close to him, but he didn't have enough strength to care….
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He stirred up somewhat finding himself lying on his front on the bed, his hot thickened back was being wiped using a cold wet cloth; it felt good, despite the stinging feeling. His mind remembered about the old-Counselor who raised him; he didn't aware of it, but he might have said something about it. He felt the steady gentle hand wiping his back stopped for a while; then he heard a gentle voice of a man next to his ear.
"Please rest well, my Prince…"
He knew it wasn't his old-Counselor he'd been missing like his own grandfather, but his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as he thought he was calling the man as him; after that he fell asleep feeling his Bland's small hands holding his hand gently.
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