Disclaimer: I do not own Ni No Kuni or it characters, they are owned by Level 5.
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
The heavy *clunk* of the metal door echoed down the long since decayed passage way. The dust and rubble that was a result of neglect and abandonment, littered the once beautiful hallway, transforming it into little more than a meandering tunnel.
The icy atmosphere weaved itself around Swaine, as he stood in awe at the passageway before him, seeing the decrepit tunnel caused him to reminiscent about the past, it had been over five years since he had journeyed through these entwining tunnels. The last time, he had brought his brother through so they could sneak out the city to train, they had found themselves at the mercy of an Earth Ogrr and had been rescued by four individuals who later travelled back to their time.
Shaking himself from his memories, he journeyed through the twisting pathway, hurling himself over boulders, zigzagging through rubble and ducking through narrow gaps to travel through the tight remains of the once elegant corridors. These had once lead to the servants quarters many eons ago, but once many of the then Emperors children ventured out to make their own place in the world, less staff were needed so these hallways were sealed off and abandoned. Later it fell to ruin and was lost from the memory and knowledge of everyone...
'...Except me' Swaine thought to himself. The curious teen had discovered its location when exploring the less used corridors of the castle, and had come across a door, hidden behind an old portrait of a long forgotten prince (one that had left the country 2 decades after his birth and had faded into non-existence). He had explored the network of tunnels in the following weeks, until his brother followed him to the portrait, luckily he had spotted Marcassin before journeying through the misused corridor. If he had been caught, the network would of been sealed off for good, and he would have been forbidden from leaving his room without a bodyguard.
Swaine sighed, sometimes it had seemed like his father wished to hide him from the world, but he knew this wasn't the case. His father had always dragged him along during royal processions, since the moment he could stand, the was no denying that he had wished to involve his eldest child in public events... yet he had never allowed Swaine to venture beyond the castle walls any other time.
Reaching the first entrance to the castle (the one hidden behind the painting), Swaine internally recited the pathways he would need to take, the current hall lead into an derelict pipe, which in turn lead into the three other passages, the north leading to the current servants quarters, library, and study rooms. The east passageway lead to the bedrooms and living quarters. And, the west passage lead to the factories, and more importantly, the underground ruins. To get to his brother he would need to take the east route.
With that out of the way, he looked up at the decrepit door, which had once been bolted shut, but had now rusted to the point where it could be opened. Holding his breath to better hear the noises from behind the door, he strained to hear even the slightest hint of movement. To his relief, there was none.
Taking this opportunity he darted under the staircase, that lead up to the rusted door, and wove through the gap at the back of the wall, squeezing himself into the tunnel-like pipe.
The rusting pipe was covered in a layer of dust and rubble from the same factors which decayed the previous hallway, the once copper metal that lined the walls had long since become green. The walls were void of any marks that could of indicated what these pipes carried.
Wasting no more time, Swaine rushed forwards into the maze of pathways. Yet again twisting around fallen concrete and cement, meandering through scattered rubble, and decaying debris. He led himself through the dying passageway towards the old storage room. Though still in use, it was hardly opened, only really accessed when the boiler in that room needed repairs. The stream of water and steam hissed though the used pipes on the other side of the decaying copper walls as the young brunet walked through the decrepit tunnel becoming aware of every pattern, dip, and rise in the pattern of the tunnel.
He traced the final few meters from his memory, before climbing up a damaged part of the pipe (jutting out to for a small platform), and pushing through the drain above him. The dim light from the room above was a sharp contrast to the murky pipes he had recently journeyed through, the light stung his eyes as he squinted; adjusting to the change.
Slowly, the room began to take shape, the gilded, brass boiler stood proudly at the back of the room, along the adjacent walls, stood rows upon rows of storage crates and cupboards containing miscellaneous objects. Swaine crawled stealth-fully out of the drain, lowered the lid until it landed with an inaudible clang. Looking at the light filtering through the copper door, he focused his hearing to check for patrolling guards.
Hearing nothing but the gentle stream of water and grinding of the clockwork city, he smirked and let out a satisfied huff, before journeying forward through the gilded door. Blinking at the change of light, he darted through the halls. Silently gliding through the shining hallways, the light footed man mapped his way through the maze before him.
Passing through the final hall on his journey, he marvelled at the decorative flags and ornaments that littered the walls and tables that occupied the alcoves, each covered by a bright purple curtain. Each artefact and ornament displayed ranged from different eras of the dynasty. Each ancient, each valuable, each precious to the advancement of magic and knowledge... each were worth nothing in his hands, each a painful reminder of the failure he was, and of the disappointment in his father's gaze every time they crossed paths.
Suppressing a sigh, Swaine turned dismally, and trekked through the final stretch of hallway before coming to a stop in front of a set of bronze, double doors. Standing at least three times his height, they towered over him, casting one last glance down the hall, he opened the looming gateway and stepped inside.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
Through the haze of dizziness and discomfort, the young prince Marcassin was awoken by a click and creak from the doors to his room. Blinking open his eyes through the haze of his illness he noticed a shadow skulk through the narrow passage he had created before closing the door, blocking any light from the room. Shivering from the cold rush of air, he fearfully realised the danger of the situation, this man had not knocked, or announced his presence or title as any guard or servant would do, he could only be a threat.
Adjusting to the dim, moonlit room, the young boy looked up to see the dark shadow lurking over him... looking down on him. Nauseating fear rose from his stomach to his throat, preparing to let out a frightened wail, the young prince stopped when he heard the stranger speak.
"It's ok... your safe" the tone and flow of this man's words struck a chord in the young boy, and triggered an emotion he had not felt in a long time. Searching his memory, he found this feeling woven in many childhood moments. Memories, both good and bad, stretched in front of him, each had one similarity.
He knew this man, 'no, it's more than that... I trust this man... but why, who is he'. Focusing his vision once more in desperation to learn the truth, he noticed the faint outline of finer features, his eyes, nose and hair were all coated with a layer of warm light from the embers of the lantern left on his desk. His mind ticked and his eyes widened in realisation.
'...Brother... You're home' the young prince smiled as the strangers identity became known, tears of relief and joy gathered in the corners of his eyes, and threatened to spill over is pale, plaster-like cheeks. Opening his mouth to croak out his brother's name, he realised that his brother was alone, meaning that he wasn't escorted.
Understanding the situation a bit more clearly, he whispered "...you-your home, Gascon. Y-you finally came home" his voice broke into a sob as he finished, tears spilled freely from his clouded eyes as he took in a hoarse breath.
His brother smiled down on him, without saying a word he left the young princes side, closing his eyes due to his increasing pain, the young prince let out a sigh.
Feeling the hair covering his forehead being brushed aside before feeling the cool brush of a damp cloth being placed on his forehead. The dull ache in his head faded into a gentle dizziness. The young boy looked up as his brother spoke.
"It's good to see you too... Brother" the elder of the two said, a hint of relief in his voice. The tears gathering in his purple eyes glimmered in the weak light from the embers of the lantern.
Hearing him suppress a sob, Marcassin attempted to rise from his position in the bed, falling short he raised his arm in an attempt to reach his brother. Noticing his struggle, the elder brother lifted the young prince into a comfortable sitting position. Once he was comfortable seated against his pillows, Gascon sat back and looked at his brother for a moment, seemingly looking for something, before rising back onto his feet and walking towards the potions cabinet in the corner. Hearing him mutter something about fever.
He returned moments later carrying a small bottle of Great Sages secret, and spring water. Setting the water on the bedside table, he opened the other bottle and poured a spoonful of the potion out, offering this to his younger brother he explained, "it will heal the worst of your illness, it won't fully heal you though, so you will still have to be careful".
Setting the bottle on the side he continued "your illness had progressed to the point where medicine would have no affect on it, had no one treated you before then".
"They thought it was just a case of the flu..." the younger brother started, stopping to take a breath, "It was only two days ago when they realised that wasn't the case, It has only worsened since then" he finished breathlessly, the illness making it harder to breathe.
His elder brother looked down, angry at the doctors incompetence. Discomforted at his elder brothers change in posture, the young boy spoke "I wasn't as ill back then... they... they probably couldn't tell". At this point he had become more comfortable, the pain in his head and chest eased as the potion took effect, the dizzying affect on his mind had lifted, allowing him to process the situation more carefully. His brother was here alone, no guard announced their presence or escorted him inside, which was odd .
"How did you get here, did the guards find you?" Marcassin queried, his curiosity getting the better of him. His brother looked up sharply, seemingly taken aback by his brothers words.
Eventually he spoke, "no I found my own way here".
"BROTHER, you need to be more careful, if the guard found you, you would be killed, they were looking for you throughout the city today why didn't you go with them when they saw you" he started angrily, fearing for his brothers safety.
"I can't draw too much attention to myself, if everyone found out who I was I could be put in some serious danger, I'm here to help you, but I can't stay for too long, there are still some things I need to do before coming back officially... If you'll have me back" he answered, worrying his brother even more.
"Of course I want you back, you're my BROTHER... b-but if you have things to do, please do them as quick as you can... so you can come back as soon as possible" he began assertively, ending in his usual shy demeanour.
His brother didn't respond, he only smiled gleefully before reaching over to the nightstand and retrieving the spring water, handing they clear water to his brother. Gratefully, he accepted the clear liquid.
"I'll do my best..." Gascon whispered as his brother drank the clear liquid.
Finishing the beverage, the prince set the empty bottle on the side, looking up at his brother once more, he opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a yawn.
Chuckling, Gascon lifted his brother before placing him back onto the bed in a comfortable laying position, lifting the heavy duvet over his brother, he made sure the young prince was covered with his head poking out of the thick, fluffy sheets.
"Get some sleep brother, you'll need it if you wish to recover" the elder brother spoke, walking over to the night stand he picked up the empty bottle and remainder of the potion and moved them back to their respective positions, casting one last glance at his brother, he spoke one again.
"Goodnight Marcassin" he said as he walked over to the closed double doors, preparing to sneak back out.
"Goodnight... Brother" the young prince responded, watching his brother as he opened the further most door before walking out, closing the door behind him. Feeling drowsy he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into a peaceful slumber.
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
The journey back went more smothery than the journey there, due to the late hour, hardly anyone wondered the streets of Hamelin, and the guards didn't notice as he slipped through the alleyways and passageways of the sleeping city.
He slipped silently through the door to his room at the inn, slowly closing the door and locking it, he began creeping silently across the room to his bed. checking his companions to see whether any of them had woken during his entrance, he let out a relieved sigh when he was met with the gentle breathing of the three shadowed figures. Turning back to his bed, he settled under the worn, ragged covers, a stark difference to the down pillows and regal covers of the room he was in only an hour before. Shrugging off the feeling of longing, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into a shallow but un-interrupted sleep.
Unbeknownst to him, a singular pair of dark brown eyes watched him from behind a ragged blanket. they shone with pity and worry.
"Just what is bothering you Swaine" a concerned voice murmured almost inaudibly.
