Day Eight.
It was the middle of the night, the perpetual darkness around the city seemingly more solid and suffocating with the coming of midnight, wrapping around the gothic and ornate architecture. It was the middle of night, but someone was still awake, and the scratching of their quill could be heard by the one outside. Tristram sighed, waiting patiently by the doorway until the writing stopped, which could be any time within the next hour.
The Guardian was tempted to just barge in, but the king's mood probably wouldn't have changed since the argument with his youngest son, and would not take well to being interrupted. After the heated dispute between father and son, the man had gone to see his eldest, who had been half-awake – a huge relief for everyone, even though the boy seemed like he wanted to be alone, possibly waiting for his little brother to come see him.
If that was the case then the likely possibility would be that Alexander would unfortunately become severely disappointed, because although Cai could maybe sneak into his room without anyone noticing Tristram thought that it was very believable to suggest that the youngest Lucerna had left the Sola Atria and gone to wander the city alone. Caiellis had mastered the hiding techniques shown to both the boys right at the start of the civil war when neither of them had passed their Summoning trial (little Cai had been too young to even start attempting it) and were too weak to be of any help in the desperate fighting undertaken by the Hierarch and Guardian (despite the older boy's numerous protestations).
However only two years later Alex was able to Summon Aurelia, though only for a very short period of time, and so the ten year old never needed to focus as much on hiding on his four years younger brother. Evidently Caiellis had perfected the spells, as normally Tristram was very good at sensing mana entities (a skill that few gave him credit for but had helped immensely in the protection of the royal family), and while he could locate the king and the eldest son, the whereabouts of the thirteen year old were a complete mystery, even if he concentrated extremely hard.
At first the Guardian had debated searching for the boy, the unconscious need to protect him constant, having not eroded much after the civil war before being once again thrust to maximum after the princes' abduction, but he reminded himself that Cai was far from stupid or careless, and almost certainly wanted to find a place of quiet introspection – especially since he knew the training hall of the Sola Atria was off-limits due to his father being able to access it. It had been the third time the kid had left to go be on his own in a single day rife with quarrels with Marik, which had undoubtedly eroded both of them much more than it caused Tristram to worry, despite the fact he had only been present at two of them.
He supposed it had been inevitable that the personalities of the two Lucernas would eventually clash because they were so similar – Tristram smirked, knowing that he would be exceptionally hard-pressed to get either to admit it.
It doubtlessly didn't aid the situation that the two barely knew each other because of Johnias's treachery, as while Cai had always been an intelligent child, Marik knowing him only up to four years old meant the man had missed a gigantic amount of mental development, both of the boy's intellect and, far more importantly, his personality. Then once the war had finished, the king had made his youngest feel unloved and under a huge amount of pressure, greeting him with censure and disappointment after the kiddo had spent every day of his life as a refugee looking forward to seeing his father, echoing his brother with that but perhaps even more so than Alex, who had been given more time to be with his parents due to his position as eldest. And every attempt Marik made to learn more about his son by talking to him ended in disaster as the two apparently argued unavoidably.
Tristram heard the sound of the quill being dipped into its ink and left to clatter on the side of the pot. He waited a second until a large sigh escaped the man in the private Lucerna quarters, and then politely knocked on the door, although he ensured to infuse enough strength into the action that would make Marik know it was him and also know that he wouldn't go away.
"Come in, Tristram," announced the king, his voice soft and extremely tired. The Guardian knew that the man hadn't slept in at all the past two nights (three, if this one was to be counted) – in the first, he was too busy worrying about his sons and mobilising the military to go after them, whilst in the second he had watched over both as Cai curled up with his injured brother just after the argument that had been the catalyst for the ones that followed, maintaining his parental vigil in lieu of claiming sleep. When he had left at around four in the morning, the king had immediately gone to use the mana-communicator with the purpose of speaking to the Council of the Yentarian Republic, as it had been approximately ten o'clock there, announcing his intentions of declaring war upon the Empire of Welkas to them and warning what would happen should they interfere.
The brawny Guardian stepped lightly into the room when the door swung open, Marik remembering that only Lucernas were permitted access so Tristram couldn't open the door, and he smiled bleakly at his champion, the dark rings stark under his eyes. It was strange, to see the man reduced to this, as Marik appeared every inch of the shy and quiet boy he used to be (or like Caiellis presently was), not the determined, strong and austere king he had become almost used to seeing after a month of being with him, though the ruler still possessed some of the parental warmth and pride in his sons he had before the civil war, it had just taken time to rise again after being repressed for so long – Marik had almost succumbed to his emotions at the start of the war, costing him several engagements and almost the entire war before he locked them away.
The thirty year old's eyes swept across the room, landing on the documents Marik had been writing, certificates of Lucerna authentication concerning multifarious different issues, but the ones that caught his eye were four that he recognised as being the recruitment slips for an advisory role to a member of the royal family that King Garius had done also for his sons, and one that authorised a transportation to Scientia Mos as well as temporary control of the city, and by extension its military – though the monarch of Lucael could commandeer any force in the kingdom of their choosing, others, even heirs to the throne, had to request permission from the ruler to take command of an army or city from its respective Light-bearers, though it was unlikely the Hierarch and Guardian would resist if a Lucerna asked.
"So, what's that about?" asked Tristram, cutting straight to the point and motioning towards the slips of paper that had already been signed by the sigil of the Sword of Wrath in the way that Lucernas did, magically implanting their birthmark onto a piece of paper so that the orders were of assuredly royal roots. Though they were upside down, the occasional word stood out to the thirty year old, and the one that attracted his gaze most was the full name of Cai, his youngest student, on the papers concerning Scientia Mos. Marik didn't respond, though his blue eyes showed a slight bit of bittersweet guilt, confirming Tristram's suspicions. "So you're just sending Cai away again?"
"It will be a learning experience for him," Marik shot back, though he knew the words would sound hollow to the Guardian, "And anyway, it is not your place to question my decisions, just follow them."
"It is my place to question if these decisions are made because of your blind pride," Tristram replied calmly, locking eyes with the man, using some of the disrespectful streak of his youth that had often earned him the censure of his parents and superiors, but he knew that out of all of his qualities, the one the king liked the most was his honesty and unwillingness to pull punches because of the man's "divine" role as ruler. In that, he reasoned he was much like Tybalt, although the much older man's grounding for it was because he had taught Marik when he and his twin were young children and so could never quite get close to kneeling before him. Marik glowered back resentfully, although Tristram knew the anger wasn't directed towards him, before almost petulantly crossing his arms. He was conscious that what he was doing would only irritate the man, but with the death of his wife it was up to the king's advisers to speak some sense into him – to that end his next words were reminiscent of the admonishing tone he had often used with the man's sons, "Marik, you need to talk to him instead of just pushing him away."
"I can't talk to him when he insists on shouting and insulting me!" the man exclaimed frustratedly, scowling, "Anyway, he likes books, doesn't he? This will be good for him. And he won't be disrupting any more council sessions."
"You know full well that he stopped after I had words with him, and that he was invaluable during them," Tristram cut in, "And you need to remember that you are the adult, and that Cai is only thirteen. He has had an extremely hard life in his short amount of years, what with his mother being murdered right in front of his eyes at the age of four and having to life within war for the largest part of his life."
"When you have children I'll be sure to ask you how to deal with them," Marik snapped, though Tristram paid little attention to the insult present in the words – the king was being low, trying to poke fun at the fact that Tristram hadn't yet found a woman, but Marik wouldn't normally do something like that so the Guardian ignored it for now, attributing it to his friend's tiredness and irritation. "And in any case, Caiellis is my son and it is up to me as his parent to decide what is right for him."
"Are you forgetting that I have spent more time with both of your sons than you yourself?" Tristram asked, completely evenly, not a hint of defiance in his tone – he didn't want to anger Marik more, as the man had obviously taken a long time to debate whether or not he should send away Cai, and felt guilt because of his resolution. The words had their intended effects, making Marik sigh in despair and slump back down in the chair. "I'm sorry, Tristram. I'm not angry at you, and I didn't mean what I said. I do value your advice, though I don't often seem like it. It's just … that boy …"
"That boy is just releasing his anger on you," Tristram replied patiently, "Caiellis has a lot of emotional turmoil going on inside of him right now (and you treating him like a failure the second you met him after nine years of him waiting to see you didn't help), what with his brother being injured so badly and thinking that the civil war ending meant that he and Alex would be safe. I'm going to be honest with you, Marik, the kid has had a pretty awful life so far, but now that the war has ended you should be holding him close instead of pushing him away … again. Plus, instead of dying down Caiellis's current resentment of you will probably just grow because you aren't doing anything about it."
Marik put his head in his palms, a look of utter defeat on his face before he concealed his features with his large pale hands. "What am I doing?" he muttered, the tone full of scorn directed towards himself, and Tristram, instead of reacting to the extremely rare, almost unheard of moment of weakness, pulled up a stool and put his arm around the other man's shoulders in a gesture of friendliness the king never received now that his wife was dead. The king stammered the words, "I'm such a terrible father … and I just let my children get taken away from me … and instead of comforting them when they got back I shouted and blamed Caiellis when he was already under trauma from Alex's closeness to death. I'm so useless … I need … I need Emili..."
"Marik, you are many things – a stubborn, prideful bastard sometimes for one – but you are not a terrible father. You are just not used to dealing with your children after nines years with them miles away and without your wife, but even so you are balancing ruling the entire kingdom with being a single parent alone, an impossible task for even the most devoted parent and the best king. I can understand why you are having difficultly with young Cai – heck, it took me around six years to earn his trust and respect – as the squirt is naturally untrustworthy and probably finds it hard to accept you after all these years, just as you find it hard to adjust to being a father again," Tristram coaxed, trying to restore the man's self-confidence back to the state of it radiating from him – truth be told, seeing his king in such a way unnerved him slightly, though not to the extent that the twenty-one year old him had been scared when the man discovered his wife's murder, but he knew for a fact that the Lucerna family was still human, despite what many in the kingdom would like to believe, due to having to care for two scared heirs to the throne.
Marik removed his hands, smiling, and Tristram grinned as he saw the barriers of resolve and determination clang down again, restoring the king. "You should become a post-war psychiatrist," the monarch joked, and Tristram wasn't sure whether the man would take lightly to a friendly punch, which is how he would have responded if Marik had been one of his sons of one of Tristram's other friends.
"So," the Guardian began, standing back up as the king rose also, "What are you going to do now?"
"What do you mean?" Marik replied, confusion creasing his austere features for a second. Tristram sighed, feeling like the older man was being wilfully ignorant, "Are you still going to authorise Cai's departure?"
"I've already contacted Hierarch Martha and she was perfectly happy with it," Marik replied succinctly, avoiding fully answering the question posed to him.
"Does that mean he is still going?" Tristram asked again, unwilling to let the topic drop until he got a clear answer and getting a bit annoyed, though he wasn't going to show it to his ruler. Marik avoided his piercing gaze for a second, and then stared up at the slightly taller man, meeting his eyes with the adamant blue irises of his own. "Yes, Guardian Tristram, it does. Despite what you may have said, the fact that my son is here is directly reducing my efficiency, and it will be a fantastic opportunity for him. Besides, the boys' grandparents live there, as you already know, and it won't hurt him to see other members of his family. Especially ones on Emili's side."
"You really are impossible," Tristram shook his head but made no other moves to dissuade the king, knowing from experience that once the man was set on something nothing could change him from that course. "Sometimes I think you forget that Caiellis is only thirteen. He's too young to be getting involved in war." And with that, he left.
.*.*.*.
The boy that was the centre of the discussion between the Guardian of Capitalia Lux and the ruler of Lucael himself slipped through the almost-empty streets of the city – though the coming of night had only been signalled by an intensification of the darkness and so the light levels didn't actually change that much, many, if not all of the civilians chose this time to go to sleep, huddling inside their homes with their family. It was snowing quite heavily, and he fondly remembered having snowball fights with his big brother in the past, smiling when he realised that Alexander would still almost definitely throw some at him had he been up and about because the older boy took any chance he could get to playfully tease his little brother.
Those that were around at this time were either guards or others that had professions requiring them to stay awake through the night. That, or the lost, the people with little to live for apart from the oblivion provided by alcohol of other narcotics. The taverns were still open, of course, but Cai wouldn't be allowed access because of his age unless he revealed his identity as a potential heir to the throne, and couldn't think of any reasons for doing so anyway. He stuck close to the shadows between the street-lights, as although his birthmark was concealed the fact that he was a child wandering the city alone at midnight would definitely attract some guards or another caring person wanting to ensure that he was safe. That was the beauty of Lucaelian society – most of its inhabitants cared deeply about the others, as they all knew that it was unification that had led them to survive in arguably the most inhospitable environment in the whole of Magnus-Primae, but that also meant that if someone spotted a small boy alone in the middle of the night those with nocturnal jobs would be concerned if they saw him.
He heard the sounds of laughing voices and spied a family walking out of one of the restaurants still open, giggling and joking with each other after what must have been an enjoyable night out celebrating something, a fortieth birthday of one of the adults judging by the large and colourful badge pinned to his grey jacket. Cai saw two teenagers around his own age but most likely a year or two older conversing quietly in the background as a younger child ran around in front of them, waving a toy sword around.
"James, Liana, look!" the boy repeated the shout when the teens ignored him at first, scowling at their ignorance. He twirled in front of them, slicing the wooden sword around and making over-exaggerated noises of combat, "Look! I'm Prince Alexander! Have at you, Welkalites! HYA!"
The sandy-haired girl smiled affectionately and patted the boy on the head as the other adolescent repressed a laugh, "That's all well and good, Marcus, but we both know it is Prince Caiellis that uses a sword, not his brother."
Cai raised an amused eyebrow as the boy frowned, his bottom lip stuck out sullenly, stopping his sword waving. "But I don't want to be Prince Caiellis..."
"Why not?" the girl asked curiously at her younger relative, who shook his head, "He's not as big and strong as his brother, and you know what Mummy and Daddy say about his angel..."
The prince felt the sudden urge to step out of the shadows and reveal himself, but soon dismissed the amusing thought, also knowing that the people would just kneel to him and secretly wonder why he was out this late at night. The girl, who Cai realised was certainly older than him now that she had got closer to his refuge between the lights, stopped walking, the fond smile on her face replaced by a contemplative and wistful expression.
"You know, Marcus, it's not his fault that the Angel of the Black Sun chose him. Besides, I think that it was King Xarius that was the problem, not the angel, and that Prince Caiellis shouldn't be stigmatised because of something he had no control over," she uttered, and the small boy looked confused. The girl glanced into the darkness where the prince was hidden, and the boy felt a small shudder of panic run through him as her bright brown eyes bored into the exact spot he was in. He held his breath, hoping it was just a coincidence the girl had gazed in this direction, and to break the awkward silence that had descended the older boy, probably James, pulled Marcus close and whispered conspiratorially to the youth, although his words were loud enough for everyone including the prince to hear. "We both know that Liana fancies Prince Caiellis anyway, don't you, Big Sis?"
"I do not!" the girl exclaimed indignantly, her cheeks lighting up in an embarrassed blush that reflected the redness of Caiellis's cheeks when he heard it, breaking off her staring into the shadows and turning away from her family members. "Yeah, yeah. Why else would you be going red?"
"I'm not going red!" she insisted, and the other teenager laughed, "Marcus, that's why she wants to join the Mage Corps of the army, so that she has a greater chance of seeing the prince."
"James, I've told you a thousand times, I'm joining because I want to make a difference to the kingdom, and my Summoning is powerful enough according to my teachers," Liana sighed, looking back into the darkness and making Cai almost certain that she was purposefully glancing at him, though if so he was glad that she was keeping that information to herself. The girl reminded him of Annia, who Caiellis realised he hadn't thought about since the abduction – neither had he spared any time for Freya or Kaled past their short communication with him in the Resistance Headquarters. Cai knew that his father had pulled out the Lucaelian students before declaring war in order to not endanger them, and pondered whether the Welkalites were doing the same – if so, it was likely that he would be seeing Kaled again, as Sergeant Tarkos had mentioned wanting the fifteen year old to join the Ja'an Guard. Too caught up in his thoughts, the prince had failed to notice the happy family leaving, and now that the coast was clear he walked into the middle of the street, darting between the illumination of the street-lights.
Caiellis contemplated whether his father or brother ever wanted to just fade into the background and observe around the world around them like he did, but soon decided against it – being the king, there was too much pressure on his father for the man to be able to just slip away like Cai was doing now, and Alex was far more confident than him and enjoyed interacting with the people instead of just watching them, which the boy supposed was a bit creepy, though he did like to sometimes pretend that the fate of the entire kingdom might not weigh on his shoulders – even if he didn't ascend to the throne, he would still probably become a Light-bearer or influential general serving under his big brother, and his royal blood meant that he was expected to be extremely successful. His mind went back to the dream realm that had ensnared him – the cousin whose name and face he had forgotten would have become queen, and although in that scenario he was still a Lucerna, the fact that the possibility of ruler-ship wasn't upon him made the dream even more enticing.
A large black raven cawed and landed next to him, pecking at some crumbs on the ground before flapping away, and Cai gazed at the animal. He knew he should return to the Sola Atria – he had been out for over six hours already, at first obtaining some fruit to eat as he was starving, but it was a testament to the potency of his camouflaging magic that his father's soldiers hadn't yet been sent to fetch him, though he doubted the man would want to see him after their argument. He also knew that his "Uncles" were aware that he wasn't stupid or careless, so would be fine with him being unaccounted for a while – though if his brother had awakened the older boy would surely be worried.
Cai stepped forward just as a spiking pain lanced through his head, a simultaneous pounding and burning torment that increased in intensity every second. He fell to his knees, holding his head as the familiar sensation of agony overcame him, like what he had felt in the presence of the Welkalite representatives in the Scholaria Magnus negotiations, but ten-times more intense and paralysis-inducing. The boy had experienced semi-regular migraines before throughout his time in the civil war, with the time period of around two months between them, though the last one had definitely been because of Tradax and his allies, and he thought it had stopped when the war had finished. Only his brother and "Uncles" were aware of it, as he had begged them not to tell Marik, insisting that because they had stopped his father shouldn't have to worry about them, though that had been before he finally met him and now knew dad wouldn't care.
Cai thought they had stopped plaguing him, and had put the last one down to the demonic magic of the Welkalites. Evidently he had been wrong, and automatically gasped in pain, pushing his head into his knees in a vain attempt to lessen the pain that kept getting more and more excruciating. His mind beat with pulses of agony that combined with the constant fire in his brain in sickening bolts of torment. He needed his big brother here; Alex had always known what to do to comfort him and save him from them, as when the migraines happened all his thoughts became jumbled up in the pain, and he couldn't focus them. His mind painfully reminded him that his sibling was bed-ridden, and Cai resolved to suck it up before his determination was instantly erased by a blast of pure suffering that resounded through his mind like he was in the heart of an explosion.
It hurts … I can't he desperately thought, not entirely sure whether he was laid on the ground or his head was still pressed into his arms, as he rolled in the pain. He needed to get away from it, so Cai did the only logical thing and looked inside his mind, attempting to flee to the Mind Realm and away from the pain. That was a mistake. The moment he partook in frantic introspection, pulsing waves of pure torment reverberated through him, the usually short journey to the Mind Realm a shuddering display of intrusive and oppressive rings of light that shot past the floating form of the boy. Then after the agonising light came the darkness, consuming him in a wave of pure blackness that flooded down his mouth and nose, much like when he almost drowned within his mind undertaking Orzhova's trial at the academy.
He couldn't breathe, and was washed back to the ground, the strange physics of his torturous mind making nausea flow throw him as the liquid darkness starved his lungs of air. Cai could hear booming laughter, the malevolent and demonic noise freezing him in place as the abyssal water rushed around him, and the sudden feeling of being watched by sinister powers gnawed at him before once again the pain overrode all other sensations. The boy felt a hand, gloved in leather and with the pale fingers bare, grab onto his shoulder and yank him backwards, out of the torrential passage of gloomy fluid. He coughed violently, hacking up half-solid black globules in a way comparable to what Alexander had suffered through because of Aksua's curse, and although the rational part of his psyche tried to tell him it wasn't real it was soon drowned under unrelenting agony.
Caiellis was forcefully thrust out of the Mind Realm, tumbling back into his physical body as another spike of mental pain rammed through his head. This was by far the worst migraine he had ever experienced – he could recall some pretty awful ones, especially right after his mother had been killed, but the amount of pain he was being caused now was the most intense his fragile body had ever undergone. The boy couldn't see anything past the street-light he blearily stared up at, the pounding in his head exacerbated by the illumination that he knew wasn't normally this harsh; it seemed to burn through his retinas like a magical beam of destructive light, scorching every nerve ending in its path. He shut his eyes to escape the radiance, but soon reopened them as the dancing circles of shadows spun vindictively behind his eyelids and the maddening laughter sprung into life again. The burning light was preferable to that.
The youngster felt his hands already compressed into fists, the nails digging into the skin and almost drawing blood he was squeezing that hard. He felt the numerous tiny trickles of blood falling down his face and past his lips, infusing his tongue with the taste of copper as he whimpered in fresh pain. The blood was coming from his nose, which had happened before, and more disturbingly his eyes, which had not, crimson tears much thicker than the usual water variety dripping out of them and down his cheeks. He could hear the Black Sun crackling when it met the blood, but luckily he wasn't unintentionally emitting any mana other than that – a blast of murderous Black mana or purifying White could kill everyone in the vicinity if he wasn't careful, though the migraine prevented him from getting a hold of his magical energies.
A face appeared in his line of sight, the still-youthful features of the guard distorted by the unbearable luminescence and twisted into something much more sinister menacing by the baleful shadows that occasionally broke out from where they had been behind his eyelids and wreaking havoc with his vision, making the boy see the two opposites of light and darkness combined, which the former more potent in this case – he had no doubts that if he shut his eyes, as well as the laughter and the dark there would be streaks of shining light, but soon stopped thinking hard after another lance of torment was driven into his mind.
"LORD CAIELLS! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" the fresh-faced guard asked, and in spite of the reality his voice was only raised ever so slightly in urgency it slammed through Cai's ears, making his skull feel like it was rattling as it shuddered into his eardrums and brought on another burst of torture. He knew he would have whimpered, but couldn't hear anything over the words echoing extremely loudly in his head, swatting down any resistance he tried to put up to the pain. He felt strong and armoured arms wrap around his thin body and lift him of the floor. The sudden shift in altitude summoned more white knives of agony that repeatedly stabbed his brain, and he stifled a scream of agony despite the fact that holding it in brought on more.
His head slumped against a broad chest, and Caiellis allowed himself to think that he was in his big brother's embrace and that the older boy would take him away from the pain like he always did – or perhaps it was Uncle Tristram, who also knew how to react when a migraine ripped through his youngest charge. His mind then turned to the possibility of his father, before it dismissed it. The option of dad holding him didn't equate to a feeling of safety so was removed by his unconscious mind, who instead presented him with more pain and also the identity of the youthful guard alternating between Alexander and Tristram, though the former stayed much longer than the latter. Cai inhaled deeply, halting the cycle of frantic hyperventilation that he didn't even realise had started and wouldn't have been doing any good for his pained brain, though that was what usually occurred in the worst of his migraines – if he knew he had been breathing fast then he would have stopped it.
Right, Caiellis Noctis Lucerna, everything is fine now, he told himself, repeating the mantra over and over again as the pain slowly faded. Though the worst was over, it still damned hurt, but at least he was regaining control. Cai was immensely concerned that another migraine had resurfaced after the war, as Tybalt had said that it had been his incredibly receptive mind and the fact that he had a huge amount of mana inside of him that caused him the pain – the Hierarch had explained that he believed the amount of suffering being caused was picked up on by him and transformed into agony by his mind, which was reinforced by the fact they happened more regularly and with much more intensity just after they escaped from violent battles, or other significant engagements came about elsewhere in the kingdom.
He had found a correlation between the dates of migraines he remembered – in other words the worst ones - and particularly brutal battles. It disturbed him that it had just sprung up out of nowhere, as usually they started by building up background pain that was tolerable and then exploding into agony later. Maybe it something to do with his other strange talent of being able to sense impending violence just before it happened, though that never came with pain, just a sensation of anticipation and fear, and sometimes other emotions. They normally did coincide with the migraines, but he had thought it had stopped after the boys fought through Usnaan without him feeling any pain afterwards. Cai smiled grimly. How could I ever become a king if I can't stop this from happening? I really am just pathetic.
He tried speaking, but the words just came out as a stifled whimper. Cai focussed his mind, forcing the pain to dissipate faster than usual and regaining control, walls of resolve crashing down within his mind.
"Where are we going?" he asked, his voice soft and quiet and sounding too much like a weak child for his liking. He was Lucerna, whether he liked it or not, and would not be babied by guards. The young man carrying him looked down, and although the pain had made the awful incident feel like it had taken years, he could still see the restaurant the happy family had emerged from – they were still on the same street, which meant that it had only taken him a few seconds to recover from the migraine and even less time between now and the guard picking him up.
That was acceptable, he supposed. Amazement creased the guard's face at the almost immediate recovery of the prince, who he thought had been dying as blood ran from the boy's nose and mouth and his pale face had been screwed up in unrelenting pain. Another guard answered, a woman, young judging by her voice but faintly older than her taller companion, and she turned around, her face coloured with sympathy underneath reverence and respect, and not even a hint of fear which made the boy a bit happier. "We were going to take you to the Sola Atria, but en route was the rest of our squad and our battle mage may have been able to stabilise your condition, while went to the hall, my lord."
"Just call me Caiellis. And anyway, thank you, um..." he broke off, realising he didn't actually know the names of the guards that had just happened upon the stricken prince in the middle of the night – he had no idea if they actually helped him, but was going to assume that they did – the guard that still held him protectively had made him feel safer, reminding him of Alex and Tristram. The woman replied, "I am Gweneth, and my subordinate, who seems to be lost for words, is Armen."
"Thank you, Gweneth, Armen," Cai bowed his head, suffusing the statement with deep gratitude before looking Armen in the eyes, "And you can put me down now, please."
The young man blinked as his companion snickered, placing the prince on the floor, where he swayed unsteadily as the effort of having to walk sent pains through him – he was glad it was night time, because usually he was bed-ridden of forced to stay stationary for a few hours after a migraine, just like he would be if he had attempted Orzhova's trial in the day also, though not to the exhaustive extent of endeavouring to pass the Summoning. He ensured that he quickly hid the momentary weakness, though there was little to no point considering these guards had already seen him in the throes of the migraine. Instead of what Cai thought, which was that Armen and Gweneth would have lost respect for him after seeing one of the heirs to governing the entire kingdom in that state, which he deemed pathetic, in fact seeing him refuse to give in to the fragility of his body after the incident made them admire him even more.
Caiellis then detected the presence of two familiar people coming round the corner, belatedly realising that in the pain he hadn't been able to control his mana and as such had accidentally de-activated the concealment spells. He didn't think that it was a bad thing though, as at least it wasn't dad coming to look for him. Background pain still pulsed within his head, but it was bearable and a far cry from the overwhelming force of earlier. Tristram was the first to sprint past the street corner, followed a few seconds later by a grumbling Tybalt who was muttering that he was: "Too old for this kind of thing..."
"Cai! Are you alright?" the Guardian asked quickly, both of the Light-bearers having perceived his distress and recognised it to be the sign of a migraine that the youngest prince hadn't suffered for many months now, though one much worse.
The boy looked dramatically more pale than usual, which was a feat in itself, his skin white like that of a ghost's, or one of the ancestral spirits that very specialised mages could call upon, though it was forbidden to force the souls of the dead to fight for you so that meant only a few departed with debts to repay appeared alongside the legions of Lucael, though all refused to speak about the path beyond. Faded tracks of blood were evident on his white and gaunt face, though the bleeding had stopped. Tristram swiftly made his way to Cai's side, putting a supportive arm around his shoulders and feeling the boy gratefully place his weight on the man – despite the illusion of strength he tried to keep up, simply remaining upright was a battle in itself, one that he had been losing.
"I'm fine now. I had a migraine," Cai stated simply, leaning against Tristram's arm as the man gently pushed his chin up to the light, looking into his deep emerald eyes to see if it had caused any lasting damage.
Satisfied that the boy's eyes weren't glazed over, nor were the pupils dilated excessively, Tristram examined the rest of him, noting that the tracks of blood led from his eyes as well as his nose, which meant that the migraine must have been much worse than any he had experienced before. It was amazing that the kid was still standing after it, but knowing his migraines he would still be in quite a bit of pain, though hopefully nothing a bit of sleep could handle. He switched his tone to be more like an order, as Cai wasn't revealing everything but the boy knew he should be open after them, as the two men could only handle the situation if they had all the information at their disposal. Tristram knew the boy would be more at ease in the presence of his big brother, but the older boy had been asleep after he had gone to check on him following his dispute with Marik, and Alexander still needed to recover.
He was glad that Tybalt had the foresight to dismiss the guards that had fortuitously discovered the stricken prince, meaning that his interrogation of the youngster could begin without them overhearing it and therefore giving Caiellis a greater incentive to properly open up. He started with a bit of conversation while the two left the area, trying to make the kid feel more comfortable, "I thought you had stopped having them when the war ended."
"So did I. Evidently not," Cai kept his statements brief, an obvious sign to the two men that merely talking sent pain through the boy's head. Tybalt then stepped in: "Look, I know it hurts Caiellis, but you have to tell us exactly what happened. You know the drill."
"It just arose for no reason. There was no warning of it, no build up of pain or anything, but it was by far the worst that has transpired," the boy started, rubbing his eyes sleepily and smiling wryly, "I thought I was going to die. I couldn't think properly, like what usually happens, and I couldn't move either. I tried to go into the Mind Realm to get away from the pain, but that was a massive mistake as the pain was even more intense there. And it does still hurt now, but it is bearable" he stated clinically, though not mentioning the booming and demonic laughter inside his head and hoping that his honesty with the rest of it would stop them from seeing that he wasn't quite saying everything.
"You may not look it, but you are a tough lad," Tristram grinned, and Cai took the compliment silently, already knowing that it wasn't true. Tybalt added, "Normally you wouldn't be able to speak that well after it, so it seems that instead of the agony being spread out it was more condensed into a very small period of time."
Caiellis nodded, seeing sense in the words although he didn't quite think that was the only reason, "I just wonder why it occurred. I thought they were only supposed to happen when there was large amounts of violence or death."
"It could be that you have caught an illness of some sort – you have been out in the freezing cold of winter with just thin clothes and a scarf for over six hours," Tristram chastised, and Cai looked glumly down at his feet. He hadn't realised that he had been out that long, and suddenly felt incredibly guilty and selfish – what if Alex had woken up while he was gone? He opened his mouth, and Tybalt cut in with: "Your older brother woke up temporarily a few hours ago – we moved him into a more comfortable room so that he could go to the bathroom in the night if he wanted – but he is now fast asleep. As you should be." Caiellis nodded, he did feel extremely tired, and although he was tempted to ask Tristram to take him to Alex's room, though his low temperature would probably just wake the older boy up so instead let the man take him to the small but cosy room connected to his own bathroom in the Sola Atria that had been given to him.
He almost fell asleep in Tristram's arms, briefly wondering what percentage of his life he had spent being carried around by those stronger than him and unconcerned by his weightless form. He sleepily opened his eyes as he heard hushed voices, blinking tiredly when he realised that he had in fact drifted off, and saw his father's concerned face staring down at him. Cai dearly hoped that the Light-bearers weren't going to tell the man about his migraines – they had promised not to only if they truly did stop, but since another had resurfaced dad would most likely be told. Hopefully his Uncles obeyed his wishes and kept quiet; he didn't want his dad to have another reason to not blame himself for Cai's anger. He felt himself being placed up warm covers, a hand fondly ruffling his hair before a door creaked shut and he was left alone in the night.
.*.*.*.
Though the fact that the short sleep removed the aching pain in his head didn't reduce the malevolence of the event, it made Caiellis feel a lot better as he finished the fruity breakfast he had been eating in his brother's room, the older boy snoring loudly but peacefully. Despite the fact that he had only slept until approximately eight in the morning, he felt refreshed, but couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was going to change this day. That something unfortunately wasn't the eternal gloominess, and Cai rolled his eyes when he opened the curtains to be greeted by darkness, but at least it was still gently snowing which made everything seem nicer.
A loud and brisk knock rapped on the wooden door, and Cai suppressed a scowl at the volume of the noise, though his sibling didn't awaken. Expecting the person to let themselves in, he sighed when another knock resounded through the room, getting up out of the chair next to Alex's bed and opening the door.
"Lord Caiellis," someone in the uniform of the Civitas Sol guard that he didn't recognise saluted the bemused prince and bowed his head quickly in respect, "King Marik requests your presence in the council chambers of the Sola Atria." the man announced, and Cai nodded his head, saving the sarcastic comment brewing in his mind for himself. There was no word of a strategic meeting today, although it is likely, but not this early in the morning. That probably means either my father wants to show me something or ask for my help, the former infinitely more likely. I'll indulge him for now, but if he starts an argument I refuse to have to deal with him for the rest of the day.
The man smartly twirled around and began to march towards their destination, and it occurred to Caiellis that this guard was trying to impress him – his golden and silver armour was polished to a mirror sheen, the vast majority of the snow he had collected in the short journey from the hall to the Ordo Medella hospital brushed off before knocking on the door. He didn't quite know what to say – Cai didn't want to disappoint the man by not mentioning it, but adversely didn't want to sound extremely awkward, as awkward statements were the only things coming to mind. He was certain that Alexander would have been able to say something to inspire the soldier, but idly commenting that the man's uniform looked nice would be more creepy and weird than anything. Cai elected to say silent, figuring that if he looked like he was deeply contemplating the nature of his summons then the man might forgive him. Or maybe the guard just liked to look presentable anyway, and didn't need him to notice.
Drifting off within his own thoughts, he blinked in surprise when he realised he was just stood outside the council hall, waiting silently at the door, and the guard had already left. So much for complimenting him then. He momentarily pondered whether he should knock or not, and settled for knocking once and then letting himself in. Dad was already sat at the head of the table, tapping his fingers on the desk in a vaguely impatient manner, and looked up at his son when he entered. The man's face twisted between two expressions – one of warmth and a slight bit of guilt, the other of determination and stubbornness. Father or king? Caiellis wondered as his father beckoned to the seat next to him, which the boy took, briefly examining the sheets on the desk before meeting the man's gaze.
"Caiellis. Good morning," the man began, noting that though his youngest had already adopted the blank expression he usually wore that gave nothing away, his green eyes narrowed for a split second, telling Marik to get on with it and do away with the meaningless pleasantries.
The king sighed, trying to ignore the niggling voices informing him that was he was doing was wrong and unbefitting of a loving and caring parent, especially since the revelation of the boy's migraines that still happened. He was annoyed at his Light-bearers and Alexander for not telling him that, though they were only following Cai's wishes. It made him feel awful that the boy had feared his censure that much that he wanted to hide his weakness from him, and what had he gone and done? He went and damaged the boy's already low self-esteem to the point where the only way Cai thought he could escape from the pressure was to cause himself pain. How selfish I am... he thought, realising with a sick feeling that he actually preferred Caiellis in that way to how he was less than two weeks later.
"What did you want me for?" Caiellis asked, his voice almost deadpan but coloured slightly with irritation, snapping Marik out of his reverie. The man almost snapped back, telling the boy not to use that tone with him, but suppressed the anger that swelled up.
"My son. I wanted you here to talk about three things – firstly, I have arranged for you and your brother to have two advisers each. As my father did with me and my own brother at the age of seventeen, so too will I with you. Each advisor has a specific role – first, the champion can act as your representative in duels and is a bodyguard and friend, while the other is more of an intellectual aid, relating to administration, management, information gathering and magic," Marik explained, carefully examining his son to see if the boy's expression changed at all, which it did not. Caiellis thought that he was perfectly capable of doing all those things himself, and would prefer to be alone and self-sufficient, but supposed that if the advisers didn't get in his way then he would have no cause to question his father's decision. The man continued, "I have already selected who they will be – I tried to keep them as close to you and your brother's age as possible, although there were none suitable that are the same age as you, as mine were. At least it was easy to find Alexander's."
"Leodred and Elizabex," Caiellis stated, and his father nodded proudly. It wasn't really that hard to deduce, considering they were the two that immediately came to mind when he thought about the descriptions Marik had given him. "I haven't done the same thing as your grandfather and choose people that you two had never met before."
"Who were your advisers?" the prince asked suddenly, which was a good sign – it meant that he was actually interested in taking part in the conversation rather than just staying blank and silent. Marik felt his cheeks light up in a bit of embarrassment, though if he noticed Caiellis gave no overt signs. "Well, my champion was Carlis, who fully agreed to this course of action."
"And the other?" Caiellis prompted after a few seconds of silence. Marik smiled, "Ahem, my other advisor was your mother, and that was how I met her."
Instead of laughing like Marik expected, his son kept his features locked within the cold mask he seemingly perpetually wore when not shouting at his father or speaking to his brother, though the man did know his son had emotions – despite the fact that he hadn't seen much of happiness. He could empathise with Caiellis, as the prince had definitely inherited that from himself, who often used to do the same at his age.
However, there was a glint of twinkling amusement in those expressive emerald orbs before his youngest hid it. "Anyway, though you may be sceptical of my decision making skills (as you have informed me on numerous occasions) I'm sure you will be pleased with who I have chosen. They are ready to meet you in the secondary meeting room when we have finished. That brings me onto my second point."
The monarch pushed a sheet of paper over to his son, who picked it up and quickly scanned it, his expression souring slightly before attempting to return to the blankness of before, which he couldn't quite manage. He glowered at his father for a second, repressing the spontaneous temptation to rip the sheet in half, and then reasoned with himself – despite preventing him from seeing his big brother, his exportation to Scientia Mos would allow him to get away from dad, which was a victory as far as he was concerned. So I've won, he thought, though it left him feeling hollow inside that he had driven his father to this. He couldn't deny that the arguments were petty, but the fact was they happened and both put their full force into it. He felt like apologising, but knew that would just make him seem even more small-minded and spiteful. Instead he tried a different tact, "So you're just sending me away again. But to be honest I'm surprised that you trust me enough with control of one of the metropolis's armies."
Marik nodded, glad his son wasn't arguing for once, and nearly regretting his choice – his son had only spent just more than four years of his life with him, and in most of the time he had been a small child, and now he was just getting him out of the way a second time in the past fortnight. He passed the boy a small metal device; the mana communicator would allow him to contact Caiellis should he need to before the large scale communication devices were finished – Marik told himself that his son would only be away for a few days at the very most before he saw him again and thrust the boy into another war.
On one hand Caiellis would be an indispensable asset to the war effort, as would his older brother if he recovered enough to be able to help, but on the other his son was still only thirteen years old. The boy accepted the proffered device without comment, already busy thinking about what he would need for the monorail journey later today – because he was going to arrive in the late evening, he was planning to visit his grandparents while his adjutants went to the main hall of the City of Books, and then get into the swing of things tomorrow.
"You'd better take good care of Alex," he told the man, his tone full of seriousness that gave Marik no illusions about what would happen should he fail in that task. The king snorted, "Caiellis, while we may not see eye to eye on things, you sometimes seem to forget that I am you and your brother's father. I will make sure Alexander recovers fully." The two stared at each other, their eyes locked in a battle for dominance, and eventually Cai broke away, his green eyes losing their defiance. "When he says he is alright he's almost definitely lying." he murmured, wondering whether he should actually tell his brother that he was leaving or make dad do it instead. No, it was his duty as a sibling to tell the other boy, though he knew how unhappy Alex would be about this new development. Actually, he hadn't yet informed the older boy about the resurgence of the migraines, but would maybe conceal that titbit of news, as he didn't want his brother worrying even more about him instead of focussing on his own recuperation.
"He is not the only one," Marik muttered, "And that leads on to our final topic: your awful migraines. Anything you want to say about them?"
"No, actually. I don't," Cai spontaneously blurted out, standing up from his seat and turning around. He didn't want the man to know about that. Why did Tristram and Tybalt have to go and tell him? A large hand encircled his forearm, firmly preventing his movements, and he turned around, glaring at his father, who commanded: "Sit down, Caiellis. You shouldn't be afraid of telling me about your pain. If I had known you had that going on as well, I-"
"You're so damn predictable!" Caiellis shouted, releasing the anger that he hadn't noticed build up behind him because of his exile to Scientia Mos, the fact that the father who professed to love him would rather see him sent away instead of putting effort into mending their relationship. "Can you not remember what caused our argument last night? Are you an idiot? You really – arghh, let go! Dad, let go!"
Marik blinked in confusion as his son started frantically trying to pull away, pain clouding his youthful and cute features as he cried out, and then registered that his hand was clenched into a fist, crushing Caiellis's fragile and thin forearm with full force and making the boy squirm. But for some reason he didn't let go until a few seconds later, requiring conscious effort to release his grasp on the arm. Where was this urge to do violence to the boy coming from?
He had definitely felt it before, starting from when he had exploded the night of Alexander's wounding and lifted the poor kid off his feet by his collar. It wasn't as if what Caiellis had just said was even that bad, it was just something a normal teenager would have said to their parent – something he would have said to his own father at a similar age and been beaten for it, although the pain inflicted by his son's grandfather was more detached and dispassionate, whereas this desire to hurt was fuelled by fiery anger. It probably didn't help that the boy's arm was still rejuvenating from the damage it had sustained from Aksua's horror snapping the bones. He felt disgusted with himself, and was hugely glad he hadn't grabbed Caiellis by the shoulders otherwise he could have found his hands wrapped around his own son's throat. Marik stood up, backing away from his son and knocking the chair over, raising his hands to show his son he wasn't going to hurt him any more.
To his credit, Caiellis didn't cry or whimper, just stared accusingly at his father like a wounded animal, his whole body tense and the birthmark on his cheek coruscating with arcs of purple and gold, showing Marik how close his son had been to using mana to try and break away, which also emphasised how scared the boy was of him, something that just shouldn't be. Marik and Emili had agreed to never hit their children, no matter how dire the misbehaving, deciding that words would make so much more of a difference. It was greatest shame in the entire world that the loving woman who sacrificed so much for everyone and had gone through so much pain to have children never got to see them grow up. Dammit Marik! Focus on the situation at hand! Whether you would like to admit it or not, Emili is dead, and nothing you can do will change that! You can, however, act like a parent to your sons who are still living: such as little Caiellis, who you have just hurt!
"Caiellis … I'm so …" he began, stammering nervously at the look of pure hatred his child gave him. The boy spat, "Save your words. Nothing you can say will help anything. I told you to never touch me again. I already know that you hate me, but if you ever, ever, touch Alexander in this way, then I will make you pay." Marik didn't doubt it, and all he wanted to do was pull his poor son into his arms and hug him close forever, but moving towards him would be a potentially fatal mistake. A melancholy expression meandered over his gaunt and pale face, and for a second Marik thought his youngest was either going to run towards him and bury himself in his father's arms, or explode into tears, or both, but instead the moment passed and Caiellis's face became blank again, and it broke Marik's heart.
"Don't expect to see me until after I get back from Scientia Mos," he stated robotically, turning away from his father as his limbs relaxed and the emotion poured off him in shuddering waves, "I'm going to go meet the advisers you requested for me, and then I will tell my older brother what is going to happen. Feel free to go see him first, but if I see you in there I'm not going in. Goodbye." He left, trying to stop tears from pouring down his face – does dad really hate me that much? He's never been violent before … I don't blame him really. I would be disappointed in a child like myself, one who is too weak to do anything, one who is too weak to help his own brother. But that still doesn't excuse him, and if he touches Alexander while my big brother is still weak and can't defend himself then he will have hell to pay.
Cai composed himself before entering the secondary hall, not wanting to have a bad first impression with those that he would have to work with in the future, and when he opened the door into the long room he gawked in happy surprise. Mysos Grandé and Jenna Bylae stood up from their seats, the former bowing deeply and reverently while the latter suppressed a smirk and did the same.
"Oh. Well I have to say I wasn't expecting you two," he grinned, feeling something akin to actual happiness as the familiarity of his seconds in command, "Mysos, Jenna. How are you?"
"Honoured, my lord," the former spoke first, the tall fifteen year old reminding him of the Scholaria Magnus not too long ago and his first Summoning of Orzhova. He was glad to have his and Iridis's swords at his side, though hoped the Seraph of the Sword wouldn't be too offended by what his dark angel had said to her before annihilating the Sister of Wrath. He looked over at Jenna; the elder sister of Annia's sea-green eyes were twinkling with amusement, prompting to remember the girl that he supposed had become his friend. She then spoke, "The same as Mysos, though I think it's going to be entertaining working with you two."
"And why is that?" Mysos asked, his face clouding with perplexity. Jenna laughed, "Well, firstly you are both still kids, and second Cai is one of the most interesting Lucaelians I have ever met, though if he uses those puppy dog eyes on me then I'll have to kill him."
"That is "Lord Caiellis" to you, or do you Yentarians know nothing of respect?" Mysos bristled at the perceived disrespect, and Cai sighed. He was just recalling how obsessed the older boy was with protocol, similarly to his father and most probably his two older sisters. He wondered what Xathan thought of his son's secondment to the prince – the Guardian of Cassida Principia had been one of the Light-bearers vehemently against killing him as a child which he reasoned was good, though didn't really feel anything negative or positive to those that had advocated his death. "And we are not children."
"Oh really?" Jenna asked, and Cai could tell she was enjoying herself by pretending to fully throw herself into the bickering, "Your nation, like mine, considers those at the age of eighteen to be adults, not fifteen, or, even younger, thirteen. Your beloved prince is even more of a kid than you."
"My lord! I request that you find a new advisor!" Mysos declared, and Cai smiled, feeling the fear and sadness he had felt when his father attacked him evaporating away from him – he was glad that he wasn't wearing a short-sleeved top, as he could feel a hand-shaped bruise forming underneath his sleeves. "Don't be silly, Mysos. Jenna is just teasing you. And please stop calling me "lord"."
"But it is proper protocol," he half-stated, half-whined, and Caiellis walked closer to him, the muscular but still teenage-proportioned boy quite a bit taller than him although not as tall as Alexander or the twins, though Jenna was slightly shorter than the Principian. He then deployed the famous puppy dog eyes that he hadn't utilised in a while, looking up into Mysos's brown orbs. "Mysos. I don't want you to call me anything other than Caiellis or Cai, understand? I'm no more important than you are."
Though the older boy clearly disagreed, he nodded, taken aback by his liege's seriousness of tone despite his wide eyes. Cai turned to Jenna, who was relatively impressed, and said: "I'm already aware of Mysos's combat capabilities, having fought him at the Scholaria Magnus, but I don't even know what your Summoning is. Could you demonstrate it for me?"
The Yentarian nodded, breathing in deeply and drawing Blue mana from the air into her, swirling contrails of disturbed air flecked with flecks of sapphire light flowing around her.
"As you already know, my little sister Annia's Summoning Quioni is a water elemental," Jenna explained, her voice not even tinged by the strain of the magic, although Caiellis detected that her Sancturia creature was of a medium mana cost. "My Summoning is also and elemental, although Ciewan is a manifestation of the air itself. Ciewan, come forth!" she cried, clapping her hands together as a humanoid shape emerged from the roiling tempest of air, curling around his Summoner and regarding the two Lucaelians curiously, though there was no malice in the gaze. The insubstantial creature was mostly made up of the air, though was quite large, and blue light shone from within it.
"Why have you Summoned me, Jenna?" he asked, his voice a mixture of hissing wind and a quizzical, sing-song tone. The young woman grinned as it flowed around her, "Caiellis just wanted to assess my Summoning."
"Is that so?" the elemental replied, cocking his cloud-head to the side and making to move towards the prince, "What do you think then, Host of Light and Darkness?"
Cai narrowed his eyes at the name the creature gave him, and responded tersely, "I imagine that you could be useful in hit and run engagements or ambushes, and as you are gaseous you could fit through small gaps. Your natural Blue mana could also help conceal your presence from those that would sense it. You are a much more subtle being than most Summonings, though I suppose that is to be expected from the magic of cunning."
"You can go now, Ciewan. Thank you for appearing," Jenna said, and her elemental bowed in a half mocking gesture to the prince. The boy made a "huh" noise and then turned to his lieutenants, saying: "I trust you are prepared for your departure tonight?"
"Yep. I am a master of logistics after all," Jenna joked as Mysos glowered at her, muttering, "Arrogant Yentarian," under his breath. Caiellis was quite surprised at his father's choices, though he had to admit they were very good: Mysos was still not yet an adult, though Cai postulated that he was actually younger than the other boy, whilst Jenna was a Yentarian and Lucaelians naturally distrusted the other nations. He was sure that there were quite a few people he had never met before that would have wanted to become his champion or advisor given the chance. Though he couldn't help but find Mysos a bit infuriating.
.*.*.*.
Alexander was awake again, trying to avoid the pitying gazes of the Ordo Medella doctors, his father and Tybalt as the former conducted a few tests on him.
"Are you feeling alright, champ?" Marik asked, though the familiarity seemed quite forced, as if the man was attempting to break the tension in the room or appeal to his eldest, suggesting that something had happened between him and Caiellis again.
"Yeah, I'm good," Alex replied, though he knew full well that he wasn't – the wounds had been worse than originally envisioned, and though they would still recover he needed to get away from the pity they were drowning him in before he cracked. Besides, it wasn't physical harm that was the problem – nothing his body had sustained would leave permanent damaged, but the emotional hurt was killing him. He just wanted to cry, to be left to face his fears alone, to let out all of the anguish he felt at being violated and fed upon by the vampire, however he wasn't willing to show it in front of those who cared about him. At least his little brother wasn't here – though the boy didn't make him feel pathetic or like an animal on display, he never wanted Cai to see him weak for his sake, as the boy would start blaming himself. Plus, the squirt had already suffered enough wounded Alex for quite a while.
"Alexander, don't lie to us. I can already tell that you aren't feeling good – you can share emotional pain with me, you know," Marik tried to assure him, sitting down in the chair beside the bed and turning to the boy, who squirmed under his father's calculating gaze.
"Really dad, I'm fine," Alex insisted, just as the images of Aksua began to assault him again, his body aching in empathetic and remembered pain. He pushed them back down, hoping no one had noticed the brief frailty – if they had, then there would be no chance of him being left alone to vent his emotions. The man the questioned: "Do you want anything? Food, water, a book?"
Though the question was filled with the desire to help Alex, the adolescent felt like he was under an interrogation, with the harsh and oppressive lights shining down on him and exposing his emotional torment that he needed to hide. Fury was beginning to rise up in him, though he didn't know where it was coming from – yes he was annoyed at being babied, but that didn't mean he should feel this angry – just as more of Aksua's seductive purrs filled the room with malevolence and making Alexander feel even more trapped, desperately needing them to leave before he exploded and he made them even more worried.
"I could use some time on my own," he admitted, as to be fair constantly having someone in his room was grating him a bit – but more pressing was the issue of the volcanic anger appearing from nowhere within him and the increased frequency of half-flashbacks of his abuse under the vampire. He knew it was getting worse when actual words started to push their way into his mind, like his tormentor was whispering in his ear and he was powerless to do anything about her, just like he had been powerless to stop her when the vampiress had fed.
"Now we can enjoy ourselves."
"Sorry, but that isn't happening, not after last time. You could just pick one of us to stay though," dad suggested, placing a calming hand on his son's shoulder when the boy started to breathe faster. One is too much! He almost shouted into Marik's face. But it wasn't his father's fault. It wasn't anyone's fault other than his own and Aksua's, and none of them deserved his rage. But he wanted them to leave. He wanted them to leave before he couldn't hold back his rage, his pain, any more. Alex pleaded: "Please guys, just leave me alone for a few minutes. I'll be fine."
Marik shot a dubious glance at the others in the room, waving his hand so that they backed off from the bed, hanging in the doorway in case Alex wanted any of them to stay. "Alexander, I've already made my terms clear. I know this is hard for you. I'll just stay if you want, or perhaps you would prefer Tristram or Tybalt. I could even fetch Caiellis if you really want. But I am not leaving you alone."
"Just get away from me! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Alex shouted as loud as he could, the volume of his voice augmented by a resonance derived from the mana he was emitting. A wave of White and Red washed out from him, forcing the others to cover their eyes as Marik instinctively raised a shield of defensive mana to protect them. The wave began to coalesce into a more solid form, and Aurelia Summoned herself, the angel reacting to his desire for freedom and a release by taking it upon herself to appear, though only with her wings furled did she fit in the medium-sized room. A Summoning could conjure itself into reality at the expense of its user's mana, although it was very rare that they did so – only demons reputedly forced themselves into the material plane through their Summoner, as normally the Sancturia creature didn't want to use their Summoner's mana.
"You heard Alexander. Leave now," Aurelia commanded, her angelic voice brooking no dissent and making Marik feel slightly scared, although more awed than that. He made to move towards his son, but the angel drew her swords, crossing them over each other and standing protectively in front of Alex, whose blue eyes were wide open in shock. "King Marik, that also includes you. I would not wish to force you to leave, but is the express wish of my Summoner that you do so. Get out. Now."
Marik held up his hands, shooting a worried glance at his son, who returned it with a weak smile, though his eyes still reflected the desperate need to be alone.
"Dad, I'll make it quick. I promise."
"Fine, Aurelia. I will let him have as much time as he wants alone. Alexander, I will wait outside. Call me if you need anything," he said softly, walking towards the door. The angel followed him, walking in a way she didn't have to do often, and slammed the door shut behind her, ensuring that no one would enter.
By the time the door closed shut, Alex was fighting his urge to smash his fist through the wall. He had no idea where the anger was coming from, but he glad there were walls now separating him from the concerned and pitying faces on the other side.
At last, for the first time in two days (not counting dad briefly going to talk to the doctors and his breakdown then), he was finally alone. He got off the bed as more images attacked his mind, going into the bathroom and quickly stripping off the clean Medella clothes someone must have put on him when he was unconscious. He turned the shower on as hot as it would go, although each hospital room had a limit on the amount of water the patients could use. Alexander felt like he needed to cleanse his body, not realising the feeling of being sullied and corrupted wasn't physical, but mental.
Aksua … whispering in his ear as his body shut down to her lulling voice … pinning him down and undulating against him … scratching his skin open with her nails and biting his flesh, sucking the blood from within …
Even as the scalding water burned his skin, he could still feel the vampire's icy and unnaturally cold hands all over his body and it made him want to throw up. He grabbed the fragrant bar of soap on the stand underneath the shower head, starting to scrub frantically at his arms, his chest, his thighs, until the skin was painful and red. No matter what he did, how much flesh he tore off, he couldn't feel clean again.
Her groans of delight filled his ears as he was presented with the most terrifying image yet: Caiellis with the innocent and contented smile on his face as the vampire tore his big brother apart. Alex didn't want to blame his little brother, but it was hard knowing that the younger boy had just left him for dead.
No, you disgusting idiot! How dare you blame poor Cai for your own weakness! Your little brother is not at fault! You shouldn't have let the vampire hurt you as much as she did!
Tears of frustration were mixing with the water droplets on his face and he had no other option but to admit defeat. He sank to the floor of the bath, pulling his knees tightly to his chest in a way his little brother often did when the boy felt scared or alone. Alexander buried his face and weakness behind them, hoping to muffle the sobs so that no one would know, despite the reality that there was no way they could be heard by anyone else. He lost track of the time, but was still crying when the water shut off, leaving him shivering, cold, and alone.
New Summonings in this chapter:
Jenna Bylae: Air Elemental
Alright, well I originally wanted Cai to depart in this chapter, but there are still couple of scenes to go and I didn't want it absurdly long. If you are bored with all the emotional stuff, then I'm sorry, but I promise it will become more action packed soon!