If all was being honest, the citadel had smelled like cherries. One girl, with a silver ball gown placed with night blue smile broadly, her eyes fixated in the wooden board of wooden men on their horses. It looked much like an old-fashioned chess, but really of a battle field, now a fortress being destroyed was the ideal plan. The girl, named Asia Abernathy, had her eyes on a boy with silver hair, scrawny with his eyes on the falling of the men being played by large fingers.
“My Lord is it really the best idea?” said one, brown creamy eyes with grey hair. Asia smiled at the man’s response, the boy was still staring at the board. He was wearing black wolf’s pelt, now assumed he was much rather of the board, but his suit was of cheap, brown leather. Simply just a scout, thought Asia as she looked at him with her dripping honey eyes. “Ah, yes, for years now we’ve been planning this.” A man smiled, one man with scruffy beard and black eyes. His stomach filled with food for ten, his voice deep and drunk—the stench filled the fort.
“Are you drunk?” said the sweet boy, now his hands clenched onto the man’s sword as he gritted instead of pleasure with the boy’s concern. He laughed it off, leaving the gloomy room with a drought and such of confusion left on their faces. Right before, the room had gone cold silent, nothing even moved, and it seemed all ended well. “I’d teach that [bad word] boy a lesson, come on and let’s go to your mother.” He bellowed, lifting a flask of his own—made from leather and carved in it was a griffin.
“That viscous brother of yours; you better get back to him. Your service is done, [insert].” He continued to laugh an awful tone, his garments ruffled at Lucas strayed to hold the shiny armor that reflected his face, though he couldn’t see it himself. “Mmm, how about you? Care for a drink beforehand?” and even then, his offers seemed bland enough to the silver-haired boy. “Your father is a Lord—king? Ha, bet you didn’t expect that coming.” His joked were daft, dark and bland to the boy who stood a little under his blue ocean eyes.
The citadel left no trace of joy, but for Lucas’s eyes to lead on Abernathy’s. “Good bye, were going to pass the pub.” And that foreign name left the thought of the young girl, he on the other hand seemed exicted to be spending time with such a figure; despite being one of himself, he never met the person who made him so. Good thing though, he thought to himself, for if he had a father in his early years…well, truth be told, their religions were very different—he would have been left to die because of his disability. His orbs trailed the banquets as they went out of the hallow, empty, gloomy room to the bright halls where no shadows were left but from the bright sun.
Once they did enter so, the windows—that very well seemed very long and slim—were made of fine hued glass with people on it. Much rather of so: Holy Ghosts flying above her, each one with different colors as the old, grayed man looked in spite. “Neigh, this is a temple that should be for Venus.” He said quietly as Lucas had no intentions to say something back, he could tell it was one of his bland jokes. His pale face became paler as he rimmed one fingers around the knife, cutting his finger wide open as deep, red crimson blood had dripped down from his finger. The blood was thick and warm.
Sliding, the blade had gone on the solid ground causing a clash that echoed through the ‘temple’, or much rather a corridor in the fortress. “Heard Thomas was a monster.” Spat the man, looking down at the blood. He said that quick and harshly to the point it was unusual to the boy to see such side. “I know…a week ago, he killed that kid.” The fat, elder man continued, gazing at the boy who wiped the blood of frantically. “…he didn’t…did you see first-hand, my Lord?” the combat was rare, it seemed like a defense of his brother who was no saint.
Lucas stumbled, but as confidently he could, he stood up without a crouch. His eyes darkened, but now overcame with the tall, broad plump man. “Really…he’s my brother, I can’t say anything about him.” Lucas said calmly, his shoulders now deteriorating back down. “Sure, he is, but you’ll be the king of Iiron Idicles soon.” Smiled the man, which was a strange smile that leaned across his face—one that seemed almost welcoming. “Aye, give ‘e a nice time, ain’t no hassle, ‘in’t he?” he spoke, now with a much funnier tone, cooling down the stormy afternoon.
“Tom…he’s diabolic in a way.”
The man froze at his words.
“Not exactly evil but, when we were younger, he took the house bird and ripped his—”
“Aye, I get your point.” Smirked the man, despite this supposing to be a serious conversation, Lucas was gullible with his truths, even though his mother had demanded that he never tell the truth unless it was her.
“Well, his feet…”
“Mother didn’t like it…she took him away to the maids to teach him better ‘manners.’ Honestly, it worked, or so what I thought.” The room tone got cooler, his eyes lightened up from before, despite already being near white.
“He then admitted to wanting the throne, then rambling about how I’m not going to get it because of my blood. He may be right, it just really matters which son he gives it too. Tom told father in a letter, father seemed disgusted in a way. He was always a weak king.”
“Yes, boy, but Thomas is a good person just needing to warm up to this foreign idea. When you want something for so long, you kind of get used to only thinking of that idea.” With that, Lucas’s plump lips now moved slowly, “Your right. Asia said he would marry the King, me, so we can gain our family reputation back. As a strong union.” The conversation ended there as they walked out to the people, rummaging through the now cold afternoon, looking through baskets as the market was done. The two had their arms around their backs, now laughing gleefully.
“Here, it’s my flask.”
Lucas took it, though he could now see the crowd, he could here children laughing which warmed his heart greatly. Even then, a hand grabbed his as he titled his head in the same direction. It was a soft hand, one that was pale and small. “Hi! The people, they are great.” She said, with a kind, happy voice with her arm flung around Lucas’s.
“Someday, you’ll rule it all.” Her voice was soothing to Lucas, isolating him from the rest of the voices. Her dress brushed against him, the two laughed—or more of a nervous giggle, perhaps. A boy, who looked slightly like him, ran through the crown with leather as his full wear and thin shoes that were light on his feet.
“Tom!” Asia said, hugging him as he smiled in response, her honey colored eyes looking at Lucas’s pale globes.
“And so? I’ve heard awful news you’ve been accused for!” she said gleefully as he just moved his head from side to side.
“I’m sure it was a blame, someone who wants the family heir to lose it’s heritage. Anyways, how about you Lucas?” Asia grinned as he just had a long pause before replying.
“Stressed. Being this…much work is hard.” He laughed happily.
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