"When my time comes around,
lay me gently in the cold, dark earth
No grave can hold my body down,
I'll crawl home to her"- Hozier
(work song)
Abel felt it. He felt his insides shake as his back hit the earth. It took him a few moments to make sense of what had just happened. He stared at the hole on the mill's roof blankly. His senses had heightened momentarily and he was suddenly aware of all the things happening around him. The steady steps of the donkey that walked in circles, crushing grains into a fine powder. The farm animal had barely bothered to notice the fallen prince. Groaning, Abel turned over to his side and pushed himself back up on his knees. A sharp pang ran through his body, his lips shivered, once, twice and like how a dam breaks, Abel spilled out the contents of his early meal. He coughed and tried to recompose himself. He tried to stand up on his feet but to no avail. From a distance, he could hear the rush of iron footsteps and he knew his end was near. He was in no condition to flee. The steps got closer and Abel's heart raced, he wished it was his legs that did the rushing. He dragged his weight towards one of the rooms inside the mill where spare grain was stored, barely managing to hide before soldiers rushed in, only they weren't looking for him. "The Queen! We need to find her or Lucian will have our heads!" A frail, young soldier panicked. "You mean King Lucian..." The burlier and muscular one responded with an air of nonchalance around him. His emerald eyes scanned the area before he let out a loud chuckle. "Honestly, do you think that us two foot soldiers can take on a witch?" He asked as he wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes having laughed too hard. "If anything... Its this hole and vomit that we must concern ourselves with, word is out that the prince has survived and I know for a fact that he is here. Trade one head for the other." The younger man nodded his head and started looking around frantically. It was not a big area, it was only a matter of seconds before he would find Abel. The other one stood at the entrance, his armour reflecting light and giving his sharp features an ethereal glow. A hard metal pressed itself against Abel's neck and the younger soldier stood with a sword clutched tightly in his shaking hands. "C-Captain.. I f-found him" He called out. Abel's eyes widened in fear. With a trembling breath and tear stained face he accepted what might come. The sound of unsheathing of a sword just sealed his fate. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the quivering boy and before he could make sense of what was happening around him a sword sliced through flesh and bone. A decapitated body fell and Abel's blood flowed.
Death. The twelve year old boy never gave it much thought, why should he? He had his whole life laid out before him, or so he thought. But however, the way death came was something he just hadn't imagined. There was no pain except for when the metal had grazed against his skin and he saw no light, everything was as dark as when it was when he had shut his eyes. He wasn't numb, he could feel his heart beating, he could feel the warmth of blood on his skin, only now he realized that it wasn't his blood. The young soldier lay dead before him. Abel opened his eyes and recoiled in shock. His trembling hands went up to touch his neck, he was still alive. Except the little cut that was left from when a sword was held to his neck. He looked at the emerald eyed soldier who gave him the kindest smile that he had seen in a while and held his hand out for the prince. "Can you stand?"
Abel was unsure of whether to take his hand or not and just stared emptily at the man. "I'll take that as a 'no'" The soldier said as he withdrew his hand and secured his sword back in it's sheath. A sigh left his lips as he reached down and picked Abel up. The prince thrashed around in his grip and tried to get away. Tears streamed down his face and he struggled to remain conscious after having witnessed two murders and having almost been murdered himself. Exhaustion wore him down and in a few minutes he stilled. The soldier carried Abel out the mill and tied him onto the back of his horse. He mounted the steed himself and rode away.
It was hours later that Abel's eyelashes fluttered and his eyes opened. He found himself wrapped in warm blankets and a familiar scent filled his lungs. From down the corridor he could practically smell the brew and he knew the source all too well. He couldn't hold himself back as he rolled out the bed and onto the floor trying to get to the scent. Clawing his way across the carpeted floor as his legs refused to let him walk. He dragged his paralysed form across the little cottage to where he assumed the kitchen was. He stopped short in front of a pair of metal boots and raised his head to look up at the emerald eyed soldier. A soft laugh left his lips as he picked up Abel in his arms with ease. Abel saw it then. He reminded him of her. Abel didn't know where she was and just hoped she was fine. Abel prayed his mother was alive.
The door creaked open and a hooded figure entered the little dwelling. "H-he is dead. Lucian declared it." A sore voice that Abel assumed to be of the cloaked figure's to be voiced out. He saw the brown curls that peaked through the hood. He observed the indigo blue gown cling onto the pale figure. The woman finally shrugged out of her cloak and took in the sight in front of her. Time seemed to have frozen as she took in the scene before her eyes. A shrill shriek left her lips as Queen Emaraa took her son in her arms. Emarus smiled from the distance as he took in the sight of his sister cradling her son. He had lived his life like that. As a shadow. As a secret, watching out for her. His older sister, capable of unearthly magic. Emaraa was sobbing as she clutched her son to her heart.
Emarus's brown curls and sharp features along with his sinewy muscles was a stark contrast to Emaraa's long brown ringlets, soft and gentler build and her frail body. However they both shared the same feline, green eyes. They were never alike. They had been taught from the time of their birth that one of them was a shadow, always obscured in the light of the other. Always a silent follower, always a hidden guardian of the light. Emarus's fate as the shadow had been sealed when Emaraa married Prince Ptolemus and became Queen. Emarus treasured Emaraa just like he treasured all that he shared with her, including his birth day. The twin brother smiled at the revelation of what had become of his family. The Witch Queen, The Shadow that lived and the fresh new addition, The Prince that rose from the dead.
lay me gently in the cold, dark earth
No grave can hold my body down,
I'll crawl home to her"- Hozier
(work song)
Abel felt it. He felt his insides shake as his back hit the earth. It took him a few moments to make sense of what had just happened. He stared at the hole on the mill's roof blankly. His senses had heightened momentarily and he was suddenly aware of all the things happening around him. The steady steps of the donkey that walked in circles, crushing grains into a fine powder. The farm animal had barely bothered to notice the fallen prince. Groaning, Abel turned over to his side and pushed himself back up on his knees. A sharp pang ran through his body, his lips shivered, once, twice and like how a dam breaks, Abel spilled out the contents of his early meal. He coughed and tried to recompose himself. He tried to stand up on his feet but to no avail. From a distance, he could hear the rush of iron footsteps and he knew his end was near. He was in no condition to flee. The steps got closer and Abel's heart raced, he wished it was his legs that did the rushing. He dragged his weight towards one of the rooms inside the mill where spare grain was stored, barely managing to hide before soldiers rushed in, only they weren't looking for him. "The Queen! We need to find her or Lucian will have our heads!" A frail, young soldier panicked. "You mean King Lucian..." The burlier and muscular one responded with an air of nonchalance around him. His emerald eyes scanned the area before he let out a loud chuckle. "Honestly, do you think that us two foot soldiers can take on a witch?" He asked as he wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes having laughed too hard. "If anything... Its this hole and vomit that we must concern ourselves with, word is out that the prince has survived and I know for a fact that he is here. Trade one head for the other." The younger man nodded his head and started looking around frantically. It was not a big area, it was only a matter of seconds before he would find Abel. The other one stood at the entrance, his armour reflecting light and giving his sharp features an ethereal glow. A hard metal pressed itself against Abel's neck and the younger soldier stood with a sword clutched tightly in his shaking hands. "C-Captain.. I f-found him" He called out. Abel's eyes widened in fear. With a trembling breath and tear stained face he accepted what might come. The sound of unsheathing of a sword just sealed his fate. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the quivering boy and before he could make sense of what was happening around him a sword sliced through flesh and bone. A decapitated body fell and Abel's blood flowed.
Death. The twelve year old boy never gave it much thought, why should he? He had his whole life laid out before him, or so he thought. But however, the way death came was something he just hadn't imagined. There was no pain except for when the metal had grazed against his skin and he saw no light, everything was as dark as when it was when he had shut his eyes. He wasn't numb, he could feel his heart beating, he could feel the warmth of blood on his skin, only now he realized that it wasn't his blood. The young soldier lay dead before him. Abel opened his eyes and recoiled in shock. His trembling hands went up to touch his neck, he was still alive. Except the little cut that was left from when a sword was held to his neck. He looked at the emerald eyed soldier who gave him the kindest smile that he had seen in a while and held his hand out for the prince. "Can you stand?"
Abel was unsure of whether to take his hand or not and just stared emptily at the man. "I'll take that as a 'no'" The soldier said as he withdrew his hand and secured his sword back in it's sheath. A sigh left his lips as he reached down and picked Abel up. The prince thrashed around in his grip and tried to get away. Tears streamed down his face and he struggled to remain conscious after having witnessed two murders and having almost been murdered himself. Exhaustion wore him down and in a few minutes he stilled. The soldier carried Abel out the mill and tied him onto the back of his horse. He mounted the steed himself and rode away.
It was hours later that Abel's eyelashes fluttered and his eyes opened. He found himself wrapped in warm blankets and a familiar scent filled his lungs. From down the corridor he could practically smell the brew and he knew the source all too well. He couldn't hold himself back as he rolled out the bed and onto the floor trying to get to the scent. Clawing his way across the carpeted floor as his legs refused to let him walk. He dragged his paralysed form across the little cottage to where he assumed the kitchen was. He stopped short in front of a pair of metal boots and raised his head to look up at the emerald eyed soldier. A soft laugh left his lips as he picked up Abel in his arms with ease. Abel saw it then. He reminded him of her. Abel didn't know where she was and just hoped she was fine. Abel prayed his mother was alive.
The door creaked open and a hooded figure entered the little dwelling. "H-he is dead. Lucian declared it." A sore voice that Abel assumed to be of the cloaked figure's to be voiced out. He saw the brown curls that peaked through the hood. He observed the indigo blue gown cling onto the pale figure. The woman finally shrugged out of her cloak and took in the sight in front of her. Time seemed to have frozen as she took in the scene before her eyes. A shrill shriek left her lips as Queen Emaraa took her son in her arms. Emarus smiled from the distance as he took in the sight of his sister cradling her son. He had lived his life like that. As a shadow. As a secret, watching out for her. His older sister, capable of unearthly magic. Emaraa was sobbing as she clutched her son to her heart.
Emarus's brown curls and sharp features along with his sinewy muscles was a stark contrast to Emaraa's long brown ringlets, soft and gentler build and her frail body. However they both shared the same feline, green eyes. They were never alike. They had been taught from the time of their birth that one of them was a shadow, always obscured in the light of the other. Always a silent follower, always a hidden guardian of the light. Emarus's fate as the shadow had been sealed when Emaraa married Prince Ptolemus and became Queen. Emarus treasured Emaraa just like he treasured all that he shared with her, including his birth day. The twin brother smiled at the revelation of what had become of his family. The Witch Queen, The Shadow that lived and the fresh new addition, The Prince that rose from the dead.
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