The woman whose name Tradax had already forgotten panted for breath as she dragged her huge body up the obsidian steps on the side of the Palace of Desire's uppermost floor, her blubber slowing her down tremendously and making the Master of Rapture's already short temper begin to fray even more. He scowled as the woman sat down, exhaling and inhaling at a fast pace, contemplating killing her before pushing the murderous thoughts from his mind – she was the best candidate for replacing poor Ershun, and ideally he needed a new Master of Gluttony for the war effort, as another greater demon Summoner would be quite beneficial.
Anyway, it wasn't as if any other important member of the Order renowned for the consumption of excessive amounts of food would be in shape, and he had forbidden the usage of human-drawn palanquins favoured by the leaders of Gluttony. He idly wondered how the woman had made her way to this position of power, how many other members of the Order she had had murdered to secure her place as second in command, before soon realising that he didn't care, the more the better as far as he was concerned.
Tradax made no move to help her as she stood up again, her massive and bloated chest heaving for breath and sweat trickling unpleasantly down her face, and her lips twisted into a grimace, her voice an irritating and vaguely challenging half-gurgle: "How much further?"
The man paused for a second, before anger exploded in his mind. He opened his palm and a bolt of weak lightning shot out of it, crashing into the candidate and sending jolting spasms of crimson agony through her nerves, though the attack wasn't meant to kill. She shrieked in pain, falling to her knees, and Tradax sneered maliciously, his smile like a cat's sadistic joy in playing with its helpless prey. "Surely you mean, how much further, my lord?"
The candidate tried to respond, but her tongue lolled in her mouth as the paralysis-inducing torment continued, the sounds coming out as an indecipherable mixture of pain and the half-formation of some words, similar to how a small child speaks in its own babbling language of meaninglessness. The Master of Rapture upped the intensity, figuring that if the woman couldn't withstand this then she would be no use as a host for a demon, and the Infernal Bargain would fail.
Also, he enjoyed causing her pain, and she needed to be taught to respect him like Ershun had done, so that she didn't question his orders – Arendus Draal was enough to contend with, but at least the new Master of Wealth obeyed him completely after Tradax had almost killed him because of the debacle that had allowed the upstart Lucaelian princes to escape. He should have never followed the fallen Lucernas orders in the first place, as killing to only heirs to the throne of Lucael would cripple the kingdom, and if he extended his own life through demonic pacts the unnatural longevity would allow him to wait until King Marik died and then take over Lucael and gain access to the abyss. But no, of course the princes should be kept alive when it would have been child's play to murder them without access to their mana, just because Johnias wanted to see them and Tradax was too much of a coward to incur his displeasure.
The Master of Rapture idly registered that he had been torturing the candidate for over a minute, too wrapped up in his own thoughts of failure and his ambitions that had made his spells all the more lethal despite his original intentions. He smelt sizzling flesh, and sighed, knowing he would have to select another member of the Order for signing of the demonic contract. The woman was slumped on the step, half falling off, blackened by the crackling electricity of pure agony he had sent through her and filling the air with the strong scent of charred meat that wasn't entirely unpleasant to Tradax. He licked his lips, wondering whether he should indulge in her flesh or not, but deciding not to after figuring it would be too fatty and burnt for his liking, and the stairway leading up to the Chamber of Blood wasn't the most comfortable location to be eating a meal.
Tradax stepped lightly down the stairs, pondering kicking the woman off them to see whether she would bounce or roll and how far she would get, and the actions would definitely extinguish the last vestiges of life that may have clung to her destroyed body. His booted foot clacked on the obsidian stone, and he yelped in shock as a pudgy hand, still white-hot from the Master's magic, clamped around his ankle, burning through the extravagant and expensive robes that covered it.
The hand emitted a fiery heat that didn't just derive itself from the residual heat remaining from the crimson lightning, and it burst into scorching flames, searing the flesh from his bones and burning it away in an intensely painful sensation, and Tradax met the woman's eyes, the orbs filled with Red mana and a stubborn defiance that shocked the Master of Rapture, as usually he was excellent at analysing a human's personality and hadn't detected any inner strength to the woman when he had met her, assuming that she was just as petty, short-sighted and obsessed with food as the rest of her Order. This was wrong, but it was a great surprise. He shuddered in ecstasy, delighting in the feeling of unexpected pain cascading through his nervous system, and the woman let go of his leg, the last remnants of strength fading away.
No! This will not do, Tradax thought – he had sensed something very powerful in the candidate before she began the fading plunge into death's embrace, and necrotic Black mana swirled around his hand as he dragged it up from the more corrupt well of mana in his mind, one that he had often dipped into ever since the fateful night where he, Arendus and Ershun had partaken in the Infernal Bargain Aksua created.
The flesh sloughed off from the woman's bones as he pumped reanimating mana into her – as the useless blubber and fat dissolved off her, a new skin was formed by the Master of Rapture's dark magic, a flawless shell that clothed her bones and organs again. After a few seconds, the candidate rose to her feet, and Tradax admired his handiwork – he had dabbled in necromancy to reanimate corpses to use as slaves in construction, but then realised that he much preferred living workers that he could torture or infuse with perception altering narcotics and then ask them to build – the whole empire was founded upon passion, so what was the point in employing empty husks of beings that felt no emotion at all?
Though he had utilised the same principle to save the woman, he wasn't just animating a corpse with dark energies, he was bringing her back from the brink of death – Tradax was immensely pleased that the dark defiance in her eyes remained when she snapped them open again, which would perpetually endure until her life ended now that her mind would forever stay in the state of focus it was in just before her death, even though she had been given new life in her malevolent rebirth. She blinked in confusion, and Tradax took in the rest of her – emerging from the puddle a fat and flesh that had once constituted a large proportion of the candidate's abnormally obese body, the slender woman was now clothed in billowing robes far too large for her, and malicious energies played around her. Long white hair cascaded down from her head, although instead of a silver purity the hair was the colour of pale death, suiting her story of almost being killed but revived by necromancy. Tradax looked deep into her eyes, perceiving with a jolt that although the woman remembered all that she had known before her dark rebirth, all traces of her former personality, the woman she had been, were gone, and she stared back before swiftly falling to her knees.
"My lord," she uttered, and Tradax smiled – though not a zombie, his new creation still viewed him with the same undying devotion the reanimated corpses felt towards their masters, though she would be far more formidable than a simple stinking corpse. "What is your command?"
"We ascend to the Chamber of Blood, -...," Tradax answered, the first part of the sentence suffused with a triumphant arrogance, but then he remembered that he had discarded the woman's name the instant he met her. He continued anyway, "Though I have already given to you gift of rebirth, I have more in store for you. To signify your resurrection, you must first cast of the constraints of your former identity to become an avatar of pleasure itself. Therefore, your new name shall be Ilentia, Master of Gluttony."
The Master of Rapture thought the name apt, as it was a character from one of the ancient myths of Welkas he had read as a child, too young to fight in the rebellion that had claimed all his brothers and sisters.
Ilentia had been the daughter of a monarch that ruled a peaceful kingdom until a huge dragon attacked, slaughtering thousands and reducing the once paradisical plains to desolate and scorched fields. The princess had led an army to slay the beast in its home in the mountains, though her band of adventurers was massively outmatched.
As she lay dying, Ilentia managed to crawl to the pinnacle of the mountain whilst the dragon was distracted by playing with her comrades and killing them slowly one by one, she found the true reason the dragon was there – the Forbidden Orchard, a garden of the gods that was said to be hidden from mortals, that apparently gave immortality to those that ate from the fruits of the trees. She consumed some of the forbidden fruit, promising herself that she would only eat one so that she could gain divine power and end the life of the dragon, saving her friends and kingdom, but the temptation to devour them all overrode any compunction to aid her comrades. Ilentia gorged upon them, gaining tremendous amounts of power as she did so, and when the magic of the fruit repaired her crippled body it also changed her.
When she emerged from the Orchard after her dark revival, all her army had been slaughtered, but Ilentia found that she didn't care. She was more powerful than she imagined, but soon noticed that the dragon was no longer there. The princess returned to her kingdom to see it in ashes, the dragon lounging in the burnt cadaver of the palace and her people wiped out by its fiery fury. Ilentia fought the beast and bested it with her new malevolent blessings, but instead of slaying the dragon, a prime specimen of its kind, she found that her priorities had changed.
The queen (or Empress, as she called herself) used her powers to conquer the nearest kingdoms with her new mount, promising to create a paradise of deepest desire. Ilentia was said to be the first in the line of the Old Welkas line of tyrants that had been overthrown twenty years ago, and although Tradax wouldn't put it past the old rulers to have invented the myth to cement their position of dominance, saying it was their divine right to rule, he had enjoyed reading the story and supposed that all myths had a modicum of truth in them. More likely Ilentia had simply been born with a draconic Summoning and used to to terrorize the populace into compliance, never a hero in the first place, but Tradax had always found it deliciously ironic that a heroine that had set out to save her kingdom instead became enraptured by desire. He thought the name was fitting for the new Ilentia.
"My life is yours, my lord," the woman replied, and the Master of Rapture put his arm around her shoulders, just now noticing how beautiful his new servant was, and how utterly devoted she was towards him, "Come, Ilentia. We go to the Chamber of Blood to begin your demonic ascension."
The walk up the stairs was exponentially quicker now that Ilentia was actually in shape, and the new Master of Gluttony moved purposefully, not stumbling like other reanimations and perfectly in tune with her new body, as if she had lived with it all her life, moving with a feline grace that reminded Tradax strongly of Aksua, though he quickly purged that thought from his mind.
The Chamber of Blood was an ancient room utilised by the old rulers to reach the zenith of absolute pleasure, the epitome of ecstasy that the tyrants soon became addicted to – however such a thing required monumental sacrifices to satiate the dark beings that provided the euphoria and weaken the barriers between the material plane and Sancturia, meaning that the obsidian stone of the chamber was permanently stained with the blood of thousands of innocents, turning the once black rock a deep crimson. Tradax could feel the power thrumming in the room, although it had not been used for its original purpose ever since the Last Tyrant was deposed in the revolution. This was where Aksua had given them to tools to sign the Infernal Bargain roughly seven years ago, and the place he had given the Master of Wealth following Gretia his demon.
"What is this place?" Ilentia asked, her voice no longer an irritating gurgle and instead a melodic growl reflecting her final mental state of defiance. Tradax smiled indulgently, and explained the significance of the chamber to the wide-eyed woman. He conjured up a small flame and used it to light candles around the room, exposing an inverted seven-pointed star surrounded by a circle etched into the centre of the floor. Infernal Bargains were laughably easy to do if one was powerful enough to withstand the sacrifice of their original Summoning and the new demon's temptations – all one needed was a location for contacting the demons, although Aksua had told him that it was only easy because the demons wanted it to be so more succumbed to the lust for power and their souls ended up in their claws. Having his own greater demon would make the process safer (if said greater demon didn't try to betray him, which he doubted).
Tradax channelled his mana into the ritual circle, feeling the veil that had already been thinned by countless deaths in the room begin to crack. Ilentia's red eyes were full of apprehensive awe, and Tradax's grin widened as physical space warped around them, plunging the two into the space between Sancturia and reality that did not conform to the laws of either plane, but still outwardly appeared like the Chamber of Blood. He swiftly looked inside himself, concentrating on the inner darkness deep within him, the pulsating heart of the corruption that had blossomed within his soul, as Red and Black mana erupted around him and a manic cackling sprung into life. The Summoning was significantly easier to do in the unknown plane due to its proximity to Sancturia, and Tradax grinned wildly as his own demon ripped through the walls of existence and plodded into the room.
It was a huge, lumbering red beast that was covered in wicked spines that were as tall as the humans, and instead of wings these spikes thrust out of its back. A gigantic tail snaked out of the back of the hunched demon, next to tree-trunk legs that made the ground shake with every footstep. Gargantuan arms extended from the demon's muscular chest, holding a naked human that cackled with pure insanity that must have been a soul claimed by the denizen of the darkness. Strangely-shaped horns curled out of its head, looping back on themselves like the antlers of a corrupted nature god, and a large maw gaped open and was filled with bone-white teeth. The demon was unique amongst its usually bipedal and winged kind, much more akin to a limbed slug than a humanoid demon.
However, it were the eyes and the aura the demon exuded that were the most terrifying aspects – the creature's small eyes glowed with an unnaturally bright green light that promised an eternity of madness, and the sounds of extreme pleasure mixed with screams of lunacy echoed throughout the chamber. A being of the demon's size should not have been able to fit within the Chamber of Blood, but the fact that it did was a testament to the physics-altering properties of the void between planes.
"This is an honour," the demon gurgled mockingly, violently shaking the screaming lunatic soul in its hands before taking a huge bite out of the middle of it and tossing the halved remains across the room, splattering the walls and floor with insubstantial soul-blood. That was the price of Infernal Bargains – yes, they gave huge amounts of power, but that power came at a steep price – the corruption of the Summoner, the sacrifice of the Summoning and the fact that the soul of the one who entered in the contract would forever belong to the demon instead of progressing to whatever afterlife existed.
Tradax's demon, Carramoshk, liked to slowly render his victims insane whilst said victim thought it was experiencing the apotheosis of bliss, and then swiftly dispel that illusion by consuming their essence once he tired of them. Whilst some Sancturia creatures presided over potentially thousands of titles in many different languages, human and not, (Azarklak, Lord of the Everlasting Banquet, Arch-Patriarch of Gluttony and so on came to Tradax's mind) Carramoshk preferred the simple and fitting moniker of the Sire of Insanity. The upper body of his most recent victim landed with a wet splat at Tradax's feet, and the Master of Rapture rolled his eyes when he noticed it was his predecessor in the role that he had had Carramoshk kill, snorting at the melodrama of the act.
Clearly his demon was trying to tell him something, although to be fair Aksua's method of an Infernal Bargain dragged the three demons in to it without their consent in the matter – the vampire had told Tradax, Arendus and Ershun that their Summonings were nowhere near potent enough to be offered as tribute in a normal contract, but the one the Perverter of Truth had taught he forced the demons into it (as was the one he was about to enact with Ilentia). Evidently Carramoshk was eagerly anticipating his demise, but if things progressed as Tradax wanted then that would not be happening in the foreseeable future, if at all.
"You barely ever Summon me," Carramoshk spat, his deep, growling voice halfway between a sarcastic whine and a threatening snarl, exposing the desiccated shreds of flesh stuck between his razor-sharp teeth and pulling at them idly. "Though at least you did supply me with a large amount of victims the last time you did. What is it that you want, Tradax Yulica?"
"You know full well what it is that I want," Tradax replied, knowing that Carramoshk was just playing with him and was already aware of his Summoner's agenda. The demon grinned widely at him, and then his insanity-inducing gaze swept across the chamber and landed on Ilentia, who viewed the demon with her unending defiance but also a modicum of curiosity, and absolutely no fear. The demon let out a booming laugh and then suddenly began to lend Tradax huge quantities of mana so that he could begin the contract. "I know just the demon for her, another of my Brotherhood if you were wondering."
The vampire had outlined a brief description of the hierarchies of demons to him, but Aksua clearly only knew what her own demonic patron had told her, that it was a mirror image of the Sisterhoods of angels but with different numbers and power levels. There were seven Archdemons, and each one had a strain of greater demons that it created or enslaved – however their was no respect between "fathers" and "sons" (or brothers), with each plotting against each other to gain greater power and control and often slaying one another. All of the few demons that Welkalite Summoners had access to were from the same Brotherhood, so this news came as no surprise to Tradax.
"Ilentia, please begin your Summoning," he ordered, and the woman did as she was told, using up a large amount of Red mana to form her Sancturia creature, and sneering in disgust at the cyclops that emerged from the pool of mana, an ungainly and flabby creature that aptly represented the woman that Ilentia had once been. It roared at the demon, who smiled mockingly back, as Tradax began to speak the ear-splitting words of the Infernal Bargain, feeling the magic, directed by Carramoshk's malignant will, latch onto a creature and begin to pull it out. He felt screams of pure anger and hatred echo through the void as the power of the contract started to drag the essence of its captive demon out of Sancturia, and couldn't help but feel satisfied at the fact that this arrogant creature would be forced to follow the commands of Ilentia, before noticing Carramoshk's amused leer and smothering the thoughts.
A ball of pure darkness that spat curses appeared in Tradax's hands, and as Ilentia's cyclops swung a ponderous punch at his own Summoning he threw the ball at it. The sacrifice of the Summoning in the demonic covenant could happen in numerous different ways – he himself had been forced to slit the throat of his former Summoning, an elemental hound, with an enchanted blade and feed its fiery blood to the ritual to satisfy Carramoshk, so a part of him was mildly curious to see what would happen.
The swirl of shadow played around Ilentia for a few seconds, before plunging straight into the single eye of the cyclops. The humanoid beast roared it pain, immediately halting its attack and clawing at its eye, before it began swelling and started to make a pathetic squeaking noise. Then, it exploded, detonating in a spray of solid darkness and blood that drenched the chamber and its occupants in stinking viscera – Tradax had noted that in this realm between realms, corpses of Sancturia creatures remained, echoing the plane where they originated from and signalling the actual death rather than the dissipation of the beast.
Stood in the brutalised carcass of the cyclops was a figure of very human-like proportions, though still far more muscular and bigger, covered with stark white flesh splattered with droplets of the cyclops's oleaginous blood. The demon was quite plain, though it still had the huge curling horns reminiscent of the rest of its dark race. It hunched, a sneer on his features, and it oozed malice as well as an aura of ravenous hunger akin to Azarklak's, although the Father of the Feast's was more about gorging on an eternal banquet whereas this demon emitted a desperate need to feed on flesh, fitting the Summoning of a Master of Gluttony.
"Carramoshk, you bastard!" the demon suddenly shrieked in fury, bounding towards the Sire of Insanity, long talons outstretched and poisonous dark mana increasing their length. Ilentia reacted instantly, impressing Tradax who was just about to prepare his own spell, stamping her foot on the ground as a chain of substantial shadows wrapped around her Summoning, dragging it to heel. It thrashed, screaming unknown words in defiance and pulling at the chain, but Ilentia's molten will held fast and it didn't budge.
"What's wrong, Arrapackxia?" the crimson demon laughed, flexing his biceps and standing straighter as if in a contest with the other demon, "Hadn't eaten yet?"
"You know full well that if I had, I would be killing you now," Arrapackxia hissed maliciously, smiling malevolently at the expression of incredulity that eclipsed Carramoshk's demonic features for a split second, before they returned to derisive and the demon snorted, "I would like to see you try, little brother."
The new demon ignored its sibling then, turning its eyes upon his new Summoner who glared down at him. "She's a pretty one, isn't she? I would love to sink my teeth into her flesh..."
"Silence, beast," Ilentia spat, squeezing her hand closed, her expression remaining stony as the demon shrieked in pain and clawed at the chain. "I am your master now. For now, you will do as I command, and when my life ends you may do as you wish with my soul."
"Hmph," Arrapackxia pouted, Unsummoning himself with a flash of spiralling darkness and entering Ilentia's Mind Realm. Carramoshk regarded the whole affair with barely concealed amusement, and leaned next to Tradax, who could smell the demon's foetid breath, whispering in his ear, "She is a strong one. Just what have you created, Tradax?"
And with that, he returned also, and the Chamber of Blood snapped back into reality.
.*.*.*.
Arguing. Alex recognised the sound immediately, raised voices duelling in a cacophony of disturbing sound that echoed throughout his mind. What is happening? Alex thought, registering that he should be getting up but unable to move, the darkness all-consuming and preventing his eyes from opening. He felt weak, like he had done just after Aksua wounded him, though the doctors had said he was getting better. Why then can't I move? Why can't I open my eyes?
He needed to get up and put a stop to the bickering, it must have been quite serious if dad and Cai were arguing directly in front of him, and to be honest their raised voices were making his head throb in alternating bursts of sharp pain and aching agony.
"What the hell did you do?" his father's voice boomed, crashing into his ears like a rumbling shockwave of sound, making the bed seem like it was shuddering underneath him. Alright, that's it... Alexander Ensis Lucerna, you have got to get up and stop this before it goes too far and someone says something they will regret.
"Me? I didn't do anything!" the shouting protest of his little brother cut like a knife through Alex's mind, instantly reminding him of what had happened before the fall into unconsciousness the boy assumed he must have undergone – everything had been perfectly fine, he had been teasing the younger boy, but Alexander couldn't recall anything past the point where he threatened to torment Caiellis some more and the younger boy had acquiesced to stop blaming himself for his older sibling's wounding. Judging by the kid's raised tone, the argument in the room had been brewing for quite some time, probably both of his family members wanting to wait until they could leave to shout at each other but dad exploding before they could get the chance. "You were the one that let the doctors remove the machines! If it had been up to me they would have been kept on, but no, Alexander is a Lucerna, so his body should just recover instantly after near-fatal wounds! Just because I was the one with him when the last of the drugs in his system gave out and Alex had no more energy to stay awake doesn't mean that it was my fault!"
Cai, dad was just trying to make it more comfortable for me. Obviously the doctors had no idea how much I must have relied on these drugs, but I appreciate your concern lil' bro. Plus, I do wish that dad wasn't blaming you for it, it wasn't your fault.
"Were there no signs that he was going to fall unconscious before he did, Lord Caiellis?" the clipped and clinical tone of Surgeon-general Mortan sliced through the bickering before the king could respond. Alex felt his little brother about to yell furiously before realising who it was that had spoken, and that there was no thinly-veiled accusation in the tone, just a desire to help the older prince. The youngster took a deep, shaking breath, and all Alexander wanted to do was get his father and brother to just sit down and solve the disagreement with them, although there was no guarantee that that would work and he couldn't do much in his current state. "No. There was nothing to suggest that my brother would lose consciousness, although I couldn't see his face and by extension his pupils because he had me in a headlock."
"So that is what you were doing? Messing around with him while he should be recovering?" Marik thundered, and Cai shot him a look that mixed despondency, worry for his brother and furious anger in a volatile combination of negative emotions. Dad, please, we were just having fun. It wasn't really his fault, it's not like he could get out of it, and I should have known not to push myself too hard in the state I was in. "Sometimes it feels like you just want your brother to get hurt, what with just leaving him alone with the vampire!"
Alexander wanted to shout, to punch something, to let out a huge burst of mana and yell "I'm right here, people!" but all he could manage was to make one finger twitch ever so slightly, something that would have just been passed off as unconscious movement – even without his eyes open, he could still feel the pitying glances spearing into him. Whatever Aksua had done while feeding on him, it left him drained now that the medicine was out of his system, although he could feel fresh mechanical equipment plugged into him and rejuvenating mana periodically pumping through his veins. I can't do this right now, please, Cai, dad, drop it, please, just stop fighting... And then the true darkness of sleep took him once again, squeezing him tight within its gloomy embrace and nullifying his resistance.
.*.*.*.
Alexander had no idea how much time had passed before he clawed his way back to the state of semi-awareness again, though soon realised what it was that had dragged him back from the nightmares of Aksua mixed with images from the brothers' abduction and the youngest prince asphyxiating in the arms of Arendus Draal.
The argument had stopped, though whether it had only just concluded or the room had been quiet for hours was a mystery to the boy, leaving the room peacefully tranquil, the hush punctuated only by the languid beeps of the machines and a much sadder noise. Someone was leaning against Alex's shoulder, small hands wrapped around his bicep, and that someone was crying, almost sobbing uncontrollably, and the soft mop of hair brushing against his bare shoulder left no doubt in the eldest prince's mind as to who that someone was. Aww, Caiellis, don't cry little buddy.
"P-please wake up, Alex. I n-need my b-big brother. I'm s-so s-sorry. I m-messed everything u-up again," he mumbled in between sobs, and Alex thought: Don't worry about that, I should have just told you that I wasn't up for it instead of tormenting you back, before sensing that the boy was talking about something much more sinister. "I-I d-didn't mean for y-you to g-get h-hurt. I j-just t-thought t-that S-Summoning was t-the r-right thing t-to d-do. I'm s-so sorry for leaving you all alone. This is a-all m-my f-fault," he wiped his eyes and blew his nose on a piece of tissue, determined to continue with his apology, despite the fact that the one he was addressing was unconscious.
"I should never have believed what Aksua showed me, but it just seemed so perfect and real. I'm so sorry, but if it makes you feel any better you were exactly the same in the dream world as you are in real life. E-Except you were g-getting hurt b-because of me," a fresh flood of tears cascaded down his face, and all Alex wanted to do was to sit up and comfort his brother, assure him that none of this was his fault. "And I should have stayed out of the negotiations at the Scholaria Magnus. It was my fault that we were in Welkas in the first place, and … I suppose I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. Ha. Ha. I'm too pathetic to just say it to your face, so instead I come snivelling to you when you are unconscious. My entire existence is just so damn lamentable. I'm a failure of a prince, and a failure of a brother. I should have been there for you..."
Don't think like that, little brother. You know full well that this isn't your fault, and personally I'm extremely glad it was me that was hurt instead of you. I get why you wanted to Summon, you wanted to prevent either of us from getting hurt. And you are the best little brother in the world, do you hear me?
Cai kept crying, pressing his face into his brother's solid shoulder in the hope that the reassurance of contact would stop the feelings of shame and guilt from pressing into him, but it just reminded him of what he could have lost because of his own stupidity and uselessness.
… Of course he doesn't, you damn idiot! You're not actually speaking out loud! Wake up, dammit! Wake up and be there for your brother!
Alexander focussed all of his energy, all of the determination to make his sibling feel loved and safe, to move his arm in order to give his little brother an indication that he was still there, that he was listening to him and wanted him to know that he didn't blame him, though it was a testimony to just how much Caiellis loved his older brother and how low his own self-esteem had become that he kept accusing himself of failure despite the older boy repeatedly telling him that it wasn't his fault.
It took far longer than he had hoped, but eventually he managed to flex his bicep a bit, which immediately attracted the attention of the kid. Cai sat up, wiping his eyes and staring hopefully at the prone form of his sibling. Alex smirked inwardly when he visualised the doleful puppy eyes of the squirt, brimming with hope, though the image was tainted by the huge fat tears that would be pouring out of them. If there was one thing Alex wanted to achieve by this movement, even if for now he couldn't get his little brother to stop blaming himself due to his inability to speak, it was to erase those tears and maybe make Caiellis feel happier.
"Big brother? Are you in there?" the boy asked expectantly, though Alex had exhausted the last vestiges of energy in his prior movement. Where else would I be, Boy Genius? he thought sarcastically, hoping that Cai wouldn't just dismiss all his effort to move the limb. "Well, I certainly hope you were listening to that. I'm not repeating it when you are conscious enough to kick my ass for this extremely "girly" moment. And I know that you don't blame me for any of this, but then again you barely ever blame me for anything..." Cai's voice drifted off, as if he had nothing more to say, although Alex knew that to be false. I can hear you, little dude. But I'm not going to admit it when I wake up. This whole situation is humiliating enough, so I'm better off just pretending that I was asleep.
The younger boy stayed silent for a few minutes, certain that somehow his older brother was listening to him, and then tried gently shaking his shoulder, not wanting to disrupt the machines freshly plugged into the older boy because he was aware that if his brother was able to hear him, then altering the flow of medication could end that state of semi-awareness.
"Alexander?" he asked after a moment, his soft voice piercing the veil of tranquillity that had descended upon the room. Yeah, Cai?
"I love you, big brother."
I love you too, kiddo. Now get going. Don't mope next to me all day. Besides, I can feel myself going back to sleep. I'll see you soon, I promise. And try to stop arguing with dad if you can.
.*.*.*.
Caiellis stood in the centre of the training hall of the Sola Atria, the circular golden room covered in stained glass windows depicting the scenes of many different Lucerna rulers and other Lucaelian heroes facing off against numerous varied enemies of the people. They were easy enough to recognise, although Cai assumed they had been greatly overemphasised – although he did know just how powerful a First Sisterhood angel was, so he reasoned that some of the art would have been factual. There were several scenes of his first recorded ancestor battling alone against hordes of demons with the First Angel, progenitor of the First Sisterhood and apparently known to her daughters as Serra.
Many other early monarchs were shown in their own conquests, and he paid each one their respects with a humble nod of his head, though he didn't worship the rulers like many not directly related to them. He identified Queen Arie with her tricolour angel Jenara holding off the might of the Erian shamans and their war beasts, the panel illuminated by mana glowing a deep green that made the brutal battle seem all the more peaceful, although many crystallised corpses were strewn around the defiant monarch.
A huge window representing the defeat of the once-mighty Grafnica nation showed his grandfather, King Garius II (the first being his great-grandfather who had died shortly after his coronation when he had been assassinated by the Grafnica, leaving his son on the throne at the young age of sixteen), annihilating the capital city of the race with Iona. Though the picture was magnificent, the cleansing incandescent rays of the event known as the Day of Judgement shining with an inspiring light, Caiellis felt awed and terrified that the man and his angel had exterminated the entire population of the city, even though they had consorted with demons and been the greatest nation-based threat to Lucael in the kingdom's history.
He had never met the man, as Garius had already died three years before his birth, and not really heard much about his personality since he hadn't really talked to his mother or father either concerning things like that, despite knowing all of his major achievements off by heart and learning about the spells he and Iona had utilised. Cai had always imagined him as a very stern and cold man (just like his own father), maybe haunted by the amount of lives he had taken.
If he looked deep enough, he could sense that in Marik also, and although the information was highly propagandised, portraying the inhabitants of Vectura, Epulaeous and Crescia as corrupted demon worshippers, when ancient relics had been used by the king to eliminate them there must have been many innocent civilians caught in the destruction. The man kept it hidden quite well, but if Caiellis focussed exclusively on him he could occasionally catch a haunted look in dad's eyes, showing just how much he regretted doing what he had to.
The defeat of the treacherous Light-bearers of Epulaeous by Marik and Akroma was the most recent window, only small compared to some of the others due to the relative lack of space but still signifying the victory over Johnias in the most brutal civil war that had been known to Lucael apart from Xarius's reign and dethroning. When he looked upon his father's visage, a steely resolve to protect the people etched upon his austere and perfect face, he was unable to prevent a surge of admiration and pride, before sternly reminding himself that the art was created for that purpose and deliberately declined to show the flaws of the rulers. Well, apart from one of the rulers, that is.
Completing his brief and mostly inaccurate tour of Lucaelian history, the boy's green orbs landed on the final panel – technically it wouldn't have been if he had viewed the images on the dome of stained glass in the proper order, but Caiellis had intentionally left this image to be the last one he viewed. Aurelia was aloft in all her fiery glory in the throne room, aptly exhibiting the righteous fury highlighted on the then Princess Matrice's aquiline and beautiful face, her red hair unique amongst Cai's family tree and serving as a stark reminder of the Red mana that had been present in her that his own brother had inherited. The Lucerna held a long halberd that was alight with white flames, and her right hand was stamped by the birthmark of the Swords of Flame. Like many of the other panels, this one showed an artist-mage's depiction of a point in time that a hero defended Lucael from an enemy that would bring about it's utter demise, although this glittering panel was unique – only on this window was the enemy from the exalted Lucerna line itself.
Exuding a ludicrous amount of haughtiness and arrogance, Xarius Drakis (a middle name that was no longer used) Lucerna lounged upon the imposing Golden Throne in the highest room of the Capitalia Lux royal palace, not even deigning to stand up and face his opponent. A staff topped with an ornate representation of the Black Sun hung loosely in his gloved grip, contrails of tenebrosity and radiance languidly swirling around it, and the true Black Sun was in the centre of the man's forehead, framed by a baroque crown of gold and ivory that's centre was left empty, allowing the birthmark to crackle with coruscating arcs of purple lightning.
Orzhova stood dutifully to the side of her previous Summoner, her scythe held horizontally and her spectacular midnight wings only half-unfurled. The dark angel's eyes were open and fixed upon her heavenly sister, the onyx orbs showing absolutely no emotion and simply showing the eternal darkness of the night that perpetually surrounded the kingdom, the pure emptiness and nothingness of the void. Orzhova was completely different to how she appeared to Caiellis, though the boy what he saw of her in the present was the true representation of the angel – when she had served under Xarius she had suppressed her emotions and feelings and obeyed her duty to the letter. He could empathise with those that were frightened of the angel, as she had looked like a soulless killer with no remorse or feelings – Cai knew that this wasn't true, but it greatly reminded him of Akroma, though the Angel of Wrath had shown her hatred of the darkness when battling Aksua.
Caiellis was deeply surprised, actually – he had expected Xarius and his angel to be shown as evil and detestable as the other villains of the past, but the artist had done a sterling job of portraying the mad king as what Cai had thought he would have been like. Xarius had the blonde hair common to the Lucerna line, and was clothed in a magisterial and ornate outfit of interlocking pieces alternating between solid gold and a chequered black and white pattern. The man's face was still young, despite him being at least forty-four at the time, a testament to the life-draining powers of White and Black combined that he abused to extend his own eternal youth, remaining with the appearance of a man half his age.
His green eyes were suffused with a huge amount of the familiar Lucerna pride twisted into something far darker and exacerbated by his malevolent powers, but the thing that stood out to Cai the most was the utter certainty present in both his and Matrice's eyes. Both were completely sure of victory, and although obviously the niece had prevailed and claimed the throne, Cai wished he could have been there to see the battle – both so that he could see how Xarius used Orzhova and different spells they were using, but also so that he could see just why the self-styled Emperor of Light had lost – despite the fact that history books liked to insist that Queen Matrice was infused with divine purpose and was pure while her opponent was corrupted, and that was why she had won, Cai knew it must have been much deeper than that. He had experienced the sheer power of light and darkness combined, so the battle can't have ended in just three blows like all of the historical accounts had said.
Cai could have slapped himself. Why was he wasting time trying to figure it out for himself when he had access to one of the members of that fateful confrontation? Besides, he had been intending to Summon Orzhova so that he could get more comfortable with Black mana and perhaps add some new spells to his arsenal, and the training hall was restricted to Lucernas anyway (he found that hilarious – why would you build something in a city that the ones who live in that city can't even get in?) so no one would just walk in on him when he was in the middle of casting a spell of Black mana.
He shut his eyes, breathing in deeply and preparing himself for the ritual motions that he would go through that he was intimately familiar with, despite only doing it successfully twice and the fact that it had only been three days since he had passed Orzhova's trial of mortality. Cai debated upon channelling the magic of darkness first, like he had done when he had almost completed his most powerful Summoning yet before Aksua thrust him into the dream realm, but soon came to the conclusion that such a state could only manifest if he felt intense hatred. Anyway, it wasn't exactly like he was experienced in Summoning in general, so any practice could be vital. Cai still wasn't happy with how long it took, though he knew that First Sisterhood angels generally required lots of time and power in their rituals – if he was ever in a battle, he was sure that the soldiers and other Summoners would protect him, but even a slight delay could be costly. However, he still wouldn't rush, as that could easily be catastrophic to both him and his surroundings.
Caiellis conjured the golden White mana that swirled predominantly around his left side and reopened his left eye, the orb saturated with pure luminosity and the boy's vision was augmented (or distorted, he mused) by the Lens of Innocence, patterns of emitted mana playing over the art and making it look even more impressive. As usual, his ominous birthmark began converting the positive magic of light into dark energies, and the youngest Lucerna concentrated on those awful emotions of hatred and loss he had felt on the night of the death of his mother that were sadly more familiar to him than any friend he had ever attempted to make, as the sensation of tears dripping down his face and the crackle of midnight tendrils of energy altered him that the Black mana he had generated was enough, so opened his left eye.
He quickly grabbed the star of darklight forming above his birthmark, tossing it to where it hovered in the air and pouring vast quantities of opposite mana types into it – Cai decided that while the generation of mana was vital and shouldn't be rushed, the expansion of the Black Sun didn't need to take nearly as long as it currently did. The sound of the choir sprang into existence, rapidly increasing in volume as he infused the sphere of un-light with more and more energy. The prince drew his crystalline sword, the relic blade shining with almost equal amounts of radiance and dripping shadow, with only just more of the former. He glanced up, half expecting the depiction of King Xarius to be pulsing in the Lens of Guilt, though obviously malicious mana wasn't used in the creation of the art. He etched the symbol of a shadowy scythe in the air as the Black Sun began to grow to critical mass, glad that the Lucerna-exclusive training hall was warded to prevent excess mana from escaping. Cai closed his right eye and saw the world through Innocence once again, going through the motions of coating the gloomy weapon in golden magic that coursed through his right palm.
The boy smiled as he relished in the addictive sensation of Summoning – though many of the benefits were evident, such as having access to a First Sisterhood angel to fight for you, something that was often more subtle was the increase in potency of the Lucerna themselves, acting in tandem with their angelic guardian as their power rose to match its. Amethyst and white lightning coruscated across the circular domed room as a gloved hand gripped the ornate scythe tightly. Orzhova swiftly absorbed the star of darkness that radiate light into her own being, the dark seraph's appearance heralding another burst of mana within Cai.
"You're getting quicker," the Angel of the Black Sun commented, utterly out of place after the drama of the Summoning ritual, and the boy nodded, pleased that she noticed, though perhaps she was just making an idle mention and didn't know that he was deliberately trying to speed it up. "So, Caiellis, what did you want to learn about? Your incessant thoughts about becoming stronger and "not being so pathetic" as you so eloquently word it are getting quite annoying." the angel smiled jokingly, her onyx eyes twinkling with a mischief her Summoner had never imagined Orzhova possessing after the dire things he had heard before actually meeting her.
Eschewing words, Cai looked past the reality of his angel and into the stained glass representation of her, trying to imagine how hard it must have been for Orzhova to have thought that after all the time waiting while her sisters made names for themselves in the material plane, she had finally found the ideal Summoner – one who was born with White and Black mana, just to have her dreams dashed and be forced to serve in Xarius's ambitions. She turned around, furling her dazzling midnight wings and idly twirling her huge scythe, staring at the picture.
"Oh," she voiced softly, the short sound tinged with sorrow and regret that ate at Cai's heart, though Orzhova made great pains to brighten herself up for the next sentence, as if reminding herself that what was done was done and that she no longer had to serve under the arrogant, selfish and sadistic Emperor of Light and that her new Summoner was presently much more to her liking. "So, before I teach you some spells you want to know from me why Xarius lost, correct? Clearly you don't believe the lies about Matrice being drastically more powerful than the doomed king."
The boy nodded, his eyes focussed and intent, and Orzhova smiled indulgently. She really did like Caiellis's penchant for learning and eager curiosity to discover as much knowledge as possible, as well as his determination and thoughtful, analytical mind and patience. However, though she did paradoxically wish it was otherwise, the part that she liked best was the aspect of dissatisfaction with himself – although it did pain her sometimes to sense just how much the boy despised himself, Orzhova would rather he just the a drive to improve rather than the self-loathing that always arose when something bad occurred. Maybe she could help him change that – besides, he was still young and his personality could alter dramatically. That was why she had felt awful after their argument and the fact that she threw him out of the cathedral – instead of being angry with the angel's pettiness, like any normal person would have been, Caiellis focussed the guilt of what he had done at himself instead. Orzhova should have waited to raise the issue in a less emotionally strained time for her young Summoner, what with the older brother that he dearly loved significantly hurt and Caiellis blaming himself for it – she was also annoyed at how Marik was treating the situation, though his Summoning was her detached sister Akroma and wouldn't be any help in that case.
"Do you remember I told you that Xarius could only control light or darkness? That was slightly untrue, I suppose, but while he could wield both simultaneously he was never able to fuse them like you have already done without my aid – that was because his drive to use Black mana was far higher than for his White, and so the magic of darkness responded more to his inner personality – his ambition and selfishness – than that of light magic," she explained, and though they had conversed in the Mind Realm in the short time after Caiellis passed her deliberately extremely difficult trial that only a person with the unique perception of life required not to abuse Black mana but still be able to utilise it could complete Orzhova much preferred speaking to the youngster in his natural habitat, though she had to be reasonably quick as not to drain too much of his mana and exhaust him.
"Don't be alarmed, Caiel- Can I call you Cai? - Anyway, don't be alarmed, Cai, but Xarius fought in a style very similar to yours. He was patient, logical, systematic and methodical, waiting like you do for an opponent to expose weakness before striking when you are sure of victory – using White mana to sustain and protect himself while Black exacerbated his foes' flaws, eliminating any advantages they had whilst slowly accumulating his own until the difference was far too massive for the enemy ever to win. Though I can tell you have almost perfected this fighting style, despite appearing dynamic in an attempt to confuse your opponents, who will think you are an extremely offensive warrior, while also preventing them from gaining profit because of your relentless attacks – something that you have inherited from your father," she continued, noticing his expression darkening at the mention of the monarch,
"However, the main difference between you an Xarius is that even though you both examined potential moves a foe could make in an attempt to nullify them, the fact is that you actually consider defeat as a possibility – one to be avoided at all costs, of course, but still something that could happen should you make a mistake or miscalculation. Meanwhile, Xarius was so self-assured, so convinced that he was perfect and that his fighting style was flawless, that him losing was utterly alien to the man. So yes, his arrogance was his downfall, as while lesser enemies would certainly never defeat him as he drained their vitality to better his own, when he fought Matrice and Aurelia the fact that he believed he couldn't ever lose was precisely why he lost. He refused to accept that anyone was his equal, or better, and paid the price because of it – Xarius thought that his victory was inevitable, assured, so when faced with an opponent that took the advantage from him he didn't know how to react. It perhaps didn't help his case that I was never inclined to throw myself in front of blows for him or heal him, so he had to consciously direct and command me at every turn, otherwise I would just stand still." Orzhova grinned slightly vindictively at the boy, who couldn't help smiling either.
"Satisfactory?" she inquired, resisting the urge to bend to Cai's height as she knew he would find it patronising. He nodded, "Fascinating. Thank you."
"No problem. You wished to expand your arsenal of spells?" Orzhova asked after a brief pause, already sensing the boy tiring, imperceptible to one that was not mentally linked to him. He still had huge amounts of mana as yet unused, though he probably would expend them perfecting the list of spells she was already mentally drawing up that were appropriate to his skill level – though she wouldn't like to admit to herself or him, Cai's age and inexperience with Summoning (factors that he couldn't change without the progression of time) meant that he couldn't yet access some of the extremely high-tier magic, magic that she had never taught to Xarius for fear of what he would do with it. Orzhova would assess Caiellis when the time came to see whether he was worthy or not. "Right, first tell me what you know about Black magic, since Lucael ironically doesn't have much information on it and you had only used it once before passing my trial."
Cai took a moment to analyse the wealth of knowledge in his young mind, selecting the most relevant facts and inferring what he could from them. He wasn't entirely sure, but the encouraging look in Orzhova's eyes made him feel more confident. He uttered: "Black spells are primarily concentrated on the creation of advantages for the user, as it is selfish. This can involve removing threats through destruction magic, or gaining more power – though this power often comes at a price, as after Red Black mana is the most self-destructive energy. However, while Red mages simply don't care what happens to themselves, Black mages lust for power and are willing to do anything to win, including sacrificing allies and their own health in order to be the victor. This means their spells either kill or make some sort of pact to ensure they have more power."
"Excellent," Orzhova nodded, thoroughly pleased and very proud of the boy, "So, because you are already familiar with White magic and I'm confident enough that you don't have to explain it to me, how do the factors of Black link to the magic of light?" She knew that although Caiellis wanted to learn spells, he understood the nature of the questioning and the motives behind it, and was glad of his intellectual and patient aspects – many other people would have become annoyed at her when she promised to teach them more magic and then launched into a full-scale interrogation.
"White mana also deals with the formation of advantages, although relating more to groups than the individual. It can also stimulate the direct removal of opposition when that opposition threatens the mage and those they have to protect," Cai started, conjuring a small ball of light for effect, "The magic of light also heals and repairs, which can be useful if one wished to damage themselves in return for more mana." He's got it, Orzhova thought proudly, Cai's expressive orbs, one of gold and one of ink, highlighting his thought processes as the true correlation between White and Black mana began to click within his head. She motioned for him to go on, satisfied that he didn't need her help – that was good, better than she expected in fact, because that meant she didn't have to teach him about combining the mana and what results one would get from that and could move straight onto individual spells.
"White and Black combined seeks to patiently win while depriving the opponent of all resources, grinding them to defeat in a war of attrition that they can't hope to win – advantages are gained by draining life to both hurt the enemy and replenish the wounds of the user, by participating in Black pacts and healing yourself with White mana so the detrimental effects of the pact are nullified, and by simply annihilating anything too potent to be waited out," he finished quickly, wanting to hurry up and learn some spells, though the talk and introspection in such a beautiful room was enjoyable.
"Since you are already using the stained glass wings I like to call the Gift of Orzhova, without my tutelage, I'll begin by teaching you some offensive spells that combine the mana types together. I know you're a bit uncomfortable with the concept of draining life, but put it this way – what is the point in you getting hurt when minor damage is preventable?"
The two spent around ten minutes with Caiellis learning a new spell before he couldn't sustain Orzhova any more and had to bid the angel farewell. He felt exhausted, but pleased, glad he had another method of attack to expand his already quite diverse array. The prince resolved to try and do this every day, perfecting his range of Black and White magic whilst also becoming more accustomed to Summoning. The angel smiled at him as she disappeared, leaving the boy feeling drained as he sat down, again gazing at the art of the domed ceiling and the windows underneath it and imagining himself in those positions. Then, suddenly, he detected another presence – it wasn't one that had just appeared, he had just been too fixated on his training and conversations with Orzhova to notice the more background shift in mana, and his mood instantly soured.
"How long have you been here?" he questioned, not even directing a glance at the figure who must have been in the doorway. The room was huge, and so as he moved round it while casting spells and training against Orzhova he hadn't noticed the man who had stood silently. The reply took a few seconds, the man's voice that uncharacteristically awkward murmur when he actually tried to interact with his youngest and didn't quite know what to say, though there was more than a hint of parental pride in the words that made Cai's heart soar before he crushed the feeling, "Long enough. Caiellis, I don't often get to tell you, but I am proud of you, and will always be, despite any mistakes you may make in the future."
Or have already made, I wonder, the boy thought, sensing the hidden meaning behind the words but dismissing the half-attempted apology. He's going to have to do better than that if he wants my forgiveness.
There was something that he couldn't quite place that just made him irritable in the presence of his father, and the fact that he didn't quite know what it was made him even more likely to shout. He heard the sound of footsteps making their way over to him on the mosaic floor, and was vaguely surprised that his father wasn't armoured, meaning he had got out of his favoured king attire before coming to see his son. Cai dearly hoped the fact that Marik was here with him didn't mean that Alex was left alone, despite his big brother probably still in the throes of exhausted unconsciousness, though their dad usually didn't make the same mistakes twice. Well, make the same mistakes twice with Alex. He's made the same mistakes numerous times while talking to me, which just goes to show how much he cares.
Instead of using words, Marik walked to his son and sat down next to him, although not too close, though the boy still didn't turn around or acknowledge his father. That sparked a pang of vexation, though the man quickly smothered it, honestly quite shocked that his son hadn't got up and left yet and was indulging Marik, for now – and the king didn't want to waste that.
"So, you can use Black mana?" he asked nonchalantly, hoping his tone didn't betray the natural apprehension he felt towards the boy because of it that he constantly had to focus on crushing, knowing his youngest son had a gentle heart despite being able to use the magic of darkness – plus, the boy would never use it on friends and just because Black mana was present inside of him didn't change the fact that he was a kind soul, though the horrors he would have seen in the war, including his mother's death, which had coincided with the boy's first usage of Black mana – come to think of it, if not for Caiellis then him and his brother would have been killed as well as Emili. Marik had never thought of that, and then mentally cursed, realising his blunder too late – why would his son ever want to talk about something that made him despised that the boy himself also hated, especially with his father, who's brother had defected to that same darkness and murdered the love of his life with it?
"Yes. Orzhova said that it had always been present in me, even before she selected me as her Summoner just after my birth," Caiellis replied, uncomfortable with the topic and itching to just leave – he had plenty of things to do, such as go see his brother, go to the main libraries of the city to find more books on magic, and go back to the strategy chamber to pour over every bit of information on Welkas and the positions of both sides' forces to formulate an even better plan, not that his father had taken too well to his clearly superior. suggestions in the first place. He decided that if dad didn't have anything interesting to say then he would, but right now he could maybe tolerate him considering the man wasn't accusing or silent and seemed to want to be with him.
"Ah," Marik responded simply, tempted to put his arm around his son's painfully thin body but knowing that would definitely repulse him. His mind became concerned when he realised that with the argument when the boy had gone to fetch breakfast and the fact that Alexander had gone unconscious before Carlis's twins returned with the food "Caiellis, how long has it been since you have eaten anything?"
His son paused to consider the question, playing the events of the day, and then the one before, backwards in his head, noticing that he hadn't actually consumed anything since the morning before the escape a day ago, and to all intents and purposes should be ravenous and starving, but he didn't feel hungry. Food could wait, he presently had other things to do.
"Caiellis?" Marik repeated, and the youngster shot a blank glance at him, the shell evidently reconstructed and the fortified gates clanging down in his green orbs, heavily restricting the passage of emotions. "Yesterday morning was the last time I ate. It was a Welkalite breakfast, but I didn't touch that much of the food," he commented idly, analysing how his father would respond but already knowing the man would want him to eat. Dad would probably suggest that they went and got a meal together, which the boy ideally wanted to avoid.
"Alright then. When was the last time you had a good meal?" Marik questioned, feeling slightly sick at the thought of the boy going without sustenance for the time he had – he also experienced a twinge of guilt, knowing just how irritable and tired he became bereft of food. Caiellis wondered why he was even talking to the man, but replied with a deadpan, "Three days ago, on the monorail journey to the Scholaria Magnus."
"What? Why?"Marik almost exploded but succeeded in restraining himself. Wasn't Caiellis supposed to be extremely intelligent? In that case, why had he deprived himself of food when it was easily obtainable? Surely he understood the importance of having energy? The boy simply shrugged, getting up off the mosaic floor and making to leave before a large hand encircled his upper arm. He glared down with unconcealed resentment at his father, who brought the weightless boy into an awkward hug, realising with a slightly queasy feeling that he could just easily choose to crush his son if he wanted, before mentally frowning at the disturbing thoughts. He rested his chin on the mop of hair on the boy's head, who suppressed a smile at how similar his father and Alex were when it came to comforting their youngest family member, though his older brother was infinitely better at it, because he actually loves me.
"We are going to get something to eat. It is around dinnertime anyway," Marik proclaimed, choosing to ignore his son's sigh but not the words that followed. "Let go of me. I'm not interested in food. I have other things to do."
"Not happening. Aren't you starving? Anyway, you are coming with me and having food whether you like it or not," Marik stated, beginning to carry his youngest son out of the domed training hall. A moment of feeble resistance was all it took to dishearten the boy, who quickly deduced there was no getting out of the situation until his father put him down, muttering, "Incorrigible nuisance."
"Incorrigible, that's a big word, isn't it? Did you learn it today?" Marik joked back, grinning wickedly at the boy's quickly-disguised look of surprise at his father making jokes. He pouted, and glanced bemusedly up at the man. "That was petty. What are you, five?"
Marik resisted the urge to lightly punch his son on the shoulder, glad that the risk of using humour had paid off – had Caiellis been in a worse mood, he would have probably set off on one of the teenager tantrums that frequented the only-just-teenager at his father's insult. He was glad that they were actually able to have a conversation for once instead of one of them starting to shout.
"And do not worry about Alexander. Your brother is fine, and the twins are with him. He isn't awake yet," and I'm sorry for blaming you for his unconsciousness, he almost said. "Anyway, if it makes you more inclined I can get Tristram and Tybalt to come and eat with us."
Cai nodded, more at ease in the presence of the other men than just with his father, as he wasn't entirely sure what the man would do to him if they inadvertently started another shouting match – sure, he hadn't ever hit his son or caused him physical pain, but the argument that had sparked the animosity between them involved dad picking him up threateningly by his collar. He found it vaguely odd that he was willing to forgive Alex for strangling or hurting him almost instantly, but then again his older brother had brought him up and always tried to help and nurture him, and there was a purpose to the pain that his father's anger didn't quite have.
.*.*.*.
Only around ten minutes later, the Lucerna monarch, his youngest son and the Capitalia Lux Light-bearers were sat around a large oak table that must have been imported from the Erian Conclave but decorated with Lucaelian heraldry and the typical images of the Kingdom of Light. Marik had insisted they have a proper meal consisting of three courses, which Cai thought as completely inessential, although the fact that his Uncles were there made him more liable to stay. His dad and the Hierarch were idly chattering, although the prince occasionally caught furtive glances directed at him from the members of the table when they thought he wasn't looking. But then again, Tristram and Tybalt sometimes examined Marik, so he assumed that they were attempting to detect the prior signs to an altercation between father and son so that they could diffuse them. The boy found it quite amusing that both men were doing it automatically and evidently without conferring beforehand, judging by the surprised meeting of eyes approximately after five minutes of being sat around the table.
Marik smiled magnanimously at the waiter as their orders for starters and main meals were taken, though his lips nearly curled into a frown when he heard Caiellis electing to order the lightest dishes. He checked his chronometer – 18:27 – which sparked a sudden thought from his youngest son.
"Um, dad?" he began nervously as three pairs of eyes converged upon him, though they belong to smiling faces that encouraged him to go on. It was not lost on either Lucerna that this was the first instance Caiellis had willingly sought the notice of his father and started a conversation since before the civil war, when the four year old had no compunctions about asking his dad for something. "Yes, Caiellis? Go on."
"Can I have a new watch? My other one will still be at the Scholaria Magnus?" he requested anxiously, knowing how much he loved to have a precise track of time's flow – it was something that he just felt was natural, and couldn't understand how people like his brother lived without it. The man smiled, glad he wasn't a father to two extremely spoilt brats like the stereotypical image of royal children. "Of course you can. What type?"
"What?" Cai responded, taken aback.
"What type of watch do you want?"
"Um," he paused, "I don't really know."
Marik sighed. "Caiellis, you are the son of the king of Lucael. Artificers across the kingdom would fall head over heels to make you a watch of any design you could ever want."
"Oh." He hadn't really thought of it in that way, "In that case, I just want the same type of watch I had before." Tristram snorted and ruffled the boy's hair fondly, eliciting a scowl because of the roughness of the act. Halfway through the starter, Marik said, "You know, Caiellis, if I'd have known you hadn't eaten properly in several day I wouldn't have been so harsh on you. Exhaustion and energy deprivation can make a person act a lot differently."
Cai put down his fork with a clang that instantly changed the atmosphere of the once-pleasant dinner. "You are so eager to just pass off my quarrel with you as any excuse you can muster, aren't you?" the boy spat, bitter anger infusing his tone. Marik sighed disappointedly, his heavy gaze landing on the boy. Though his words had been spoken good-naturedly, Caiellis had evidently taken offence. Marik wasn't going to let his petulant son ruin the dinner, but before he could say anything the boy launched another accusation, following up on his prior point in that way he often liked to do: "Can you not just accept that I am angry with you? It's not because of my hormones, nor is it because I haven't eaten!" he pushed away his plate and stood up, suddenly losing his appetite, and Marik sighed once again. Tybalt and Tristram shared a nervous glance, unsure of whether to intervene on Marik's side or just remain neutral.
"Caiellis. Sit down," Marik ordered at his glowering youngest, the tone tinted with a dangerous amount of anger, "Sit down and finish your meal. Stop being pathetic, or do you want the food that the chefs have spent time, effort and money cooking to go to waste?"
"Feed it to the homeless or something. I'm not hungry," Cai murmured, just wanting to leave and not argue further, isolate himself from other people before he became even more annoyed. Maybe he would go and see his brother – even asleep, Alexander still made him feel safe and protected. Tristram stifled a laugh at his reply, aware that it would just serve to incense both Lucernas further.
"Sit down right now!" Marik shouted, his hands bending the cutlery held in them as he subconsciously squeezed them into fists. Right, that's it, Cai thought, turning to leave before the urge to scream back became too much to handle. "Sit back down and finish your dinner, young man."
Ignored. Marik could see how his youngest's fragile body was tensing, and it took all of his willpower not to stand up and go after him, maybe slam him up against a wall and teach him some discipline. Where did that second thought come from?
"Caiellis!" Marik thundered as the boy reached the door, opening with full force, "Don't you slam tha-"
Tristram despairingly rested his head in his hands as the door slammed shut with a resounding crash, signifying Cai's departure. Marik crashed his fist down on the table, cracking apart some of the ornate wood. There was something about his son's defiance that seriously incensed Marik, the challenging tone his youngest used just baiting him to react like any normal person would and slowly niggling at him until he had to shout back. It shouldn't be like that. Fathers and sons shouldn't interact in such a way – why couldn't Caiellis just be more like Alexander when talking to his father? He enjoyed being with both of his thoughtful and intelligent sons equally, but the constant arguments were going to destroy him if he didn't do anything about it.
New Summonings in this chapter:
Illentia (formerly): Gluttonous Cyclops
Illentia: Ravenous Demon/Archdemon of Greed
Tradax Yulica: Sire of Insanity