Chapter 5- The man, The Demon, and The Sword
The brown haired man rested his head against the cold stone wall. The room around him was cloaked in darkness- only a sliver of sunlight slipped in through cracks in the ceiling.
It was a thin line, and it brought the man no comfort. A rope would have served him better.
In his prison, the only sound was the beat of the man's heart. It was a stubborn thing, that heard of his. Ba-dump, Ba-dump. The thing marched on, without rest, without any consideration to the man's desire to die.
He hated it, that heart of his.
The man's life did not belong to him. His will was in the hands of another, and he was only a puppet. Body and mind controlled by alien hands.
And all because his sister had loved the wrong man.
Memories. Memories were all the man had now. Memories dipped and soaked in boiling resentment. They shaped his heart, his stubborn and despicable heart, into nothing but hate.
Once upon a time. That's how the story of his life would start, if anyone bothered to document it. Like in the stories he'd read his sister when she'd been too scared to go to sleep. The same stories she'd read when their parents had died, and her tears wouldn't stop.
Once upon a time, things had been normal. Once upon a time, the man had had a good life.
Once upon a time, things had fallen apart.
The man closed his eyes, and let himself fall back to the beginning. It was the only way he could see his sister now, the only way he could manage to remember he was still human.
Part of him, at least.
Once upon a time, his sister had come home with an unmistakable look in her eyes.
The man had never been in love- but yes, he knew that look. He'd grown up around it, after all. Always there in the eyes of his mother. Always filling up the eyes of his father.
"Oh, no." The man sighed. He wiped at the sweat on his brow, and tossed aside the would-never-be-a-sword metal in his hand. He'd ruined it all. As usual. "You met someone."
"Maybe I did." His sister grinned. "A boy."
"A boy," The man rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms. "Tell me."
"Oh Kai- he's wonderful!" His sister fought back against the giggles in her stomach, but it was a losing battle. The sound escaped. Kai found that he liked it. He rarely heard joy from his sister now- not since they'd buried their parents.
He cherished it. "I'm sure he is."
"His eyes, Kai. They're the color of the sky. And his smile- well it's- I can't describe it! It's everything. Just . . . everything."
"Blue eyes?" The back of Kai's neck prickled. "So he's an outsider."
"And it matters?"
Kai picked up a new piece of metal. He used it to point at his sister. "Yes, it matters. People from outside the kingdom are … "
His sister crossed her arms. Raised her eyebrows.
"... dangerous."
"Oh please. He grew up here, so who cares? He lives in the Warrens so I'd never seen him before but-"
"The Warrens? No. No, Nya. No way! I'm glad you're happy but- there's no way."
The Warrens were a dilapidated area pressed up around the south edge of the kingdom. Small houses, held up by a wish and a prayer, and a persistent stink that took hours to wash off if you happened to wander through.
Kai had been there, once. With his father. He couldn't remember the why- but the state of the people there had put a mark on him.
The few that lived long enough to crawl out of the Warrens were only ever one thing- criminals.
His sister could not be in love with a criminal.
"No way?" Nya echoed with a scowl. She gave her brother a sharp look. "And you're- what? My dad?"
"Close enough."
Kai turned his interest back to the unshaped metal. He waited for the heat to seep through and then- clang! clang!
"You're not. And you're doing that wrong." Nya rolled her eyes, and pushed Kai out of the way. She took over the work- and just like magic, the metal bent to her will. Nya was just as skilled as their father had been.
Kai tried not to resent it. "I was doing just fine."
"Yeah. If your plan was to lead the shop to ruin." Nya said, with a quick glance at the pile of failed projects Kai had tried to push out of sight.
"Fine. So I'm a lousy blacksmith. I'm not, however, a lousy brother." Kai said. "So I'm keeping you safe- which means no sky-eyed boys from the Warrens."
He'd said the words. He'd said them in a firm tone. Kai, the present version of himself, could feel them still. He could feel his resolve in every syllable.
No sky-eyed boys from the Warrens.
He'd meant it.
He'd meant it.
So why?
Why . . .
Because- because Kai loved his sister. Too much? Or worse still . . . not enough? Impossible to say now, as everything inside him responded to a will outside his own.
Whatever the reason, it did not matter. The outcome was the same. Kai was here, chained to a stone wall, bound to follow the orders of the serpentine king.
And Nya?
He didn't know. That was the worst of it. He did not know.
Once upon a time, he'd had a sister.
But that time was no longer.
The unmistakable sound of King Pythor's heavy slither dragged against Kai's ears, and pulled him out of his thoughts. Kai grimaced with anticipation. He felt the prickle of desperate tears against the back of his skull.
"Hello, Kai." The King's voice reached him. It was a nice voice- too nice, Kai had always thought. A knife coated in honey. He despised it more than anything.
Kai opened his eyes, and glared through the bars of his cell. He met the King's eyes- a press of unnatural purple.
The King gripped a golden sword. Slender, gloved fingers tight around the beautiful metal. Again, Kai thought of his sister. Such a beautiful sword. She would have been fascinated.
Nya, are you alive?
Nya- I am so sorry.
"I have a job for you, dear boy." King Pythor grinned. The sword in his hand began to glow. "There's someone I need you to get rid of. And I know that you'd . . . kill for a bit of fresh air."
Kai felt his stomach twist, even as he fought for composure. The sword's power whispered to him. It pressed against his head- a persistent chat he couldn't fight. A choked groan slid through his lips.
Power.
So. Much. Power.
So much power- just for him.
Kai's hands twitched. Violent. Eager. He licked his lips. Everything in him ached for the taste of blood.
"It's a boy." Pythor continued. Little by little, the power took over Kai's mind. Invisible strings hung between him and the king. Puppet and master. Ready for the show. "Blond hair. Sickening green eyes."
No! The final bits of Kai's mind did their best to resist. I can't. I don't- Please don't make me kill again.
Oh- but you must. And you will.
Kai felt his vision blurr. Losing control. Losing everything. He fought to remember his sister's face, but it was soon replaced by another. The face of his victim.
A weapon. Kai was a weapon. And live every good weapon, all Kai wanted (needed) was to kill.
Kill.
King Pythor opened the door to the man's cell. His smile grew, as Kai's body began to change, compelled by the irresistible power of the golden sword.
Once upon a time, there had been a man.
Once upon a time, that man had become a monster.
Kai's arms lengthened- all the better to strangle with.
His legs grew stronger- all the better to chase with.
His ears molded and sharpened like wolf's - all the better to hunt with.
And his teeth-
Kai's mouth spread into a grin filled with sharp fangs.
All the better to kill with.