Sulien Augustus Corbyn was named after the sun.
A rising son, as his Father had once depicted to him, was what he wanted him to be. He wanted him to shine to dissipate the dreadful night and cast a trail of fire whenever he went.
Despite being his 5th child, he had high hopes for him like he had with all his other sons and one daughter.
But Sulien had other plans than to rid the world of darkness and to help his brothers purge the evils of the land. He wanted to become his own person – which was a preposterous idea, to begin with.
His life had always belonged to somebody else, be it to his Father or now, to his oldest brother – Ares. He belonged to somebody else other than himself. With the title that he was born with, he was always going to be Prince Sulien.
But never just – Sulien.
Well, he attempted to change that.
Thankfully, he did not have the weight of the throne upon his shoulders. And so, his occupation was something that he could negotiate. While one usurped the title of King, and his other three brothers became politicians, developmentalists and lawmakers, he stood away from the Kingdom's affairs. He had always been better at physical prowess, constantly defeating his brothers in combat training ever since a young age.
So, he pleaded his way to becoming the General with the request that none of them knew his true identity as a Prince.
This was the compromise – that he still served the Kingdom in some way but didn't meddle with the politics of it.
"Prince Sulien, King Ares awaits you in the Throne Room," a servant said.
Julien – his name was Julien. Right?
He couldn't remember.
The servants and maids that came and went, bustled and busied in the palace were a blur to him. A mass of faces that he would see and never remember. He had once in his life wanted to recall their names but found it futile to do so when even the smallest of mistakes were enough to make them leave the Palace.
"Thank you, I will be there in ten minutes," He replies back as he adjusted his sword that hung around his hips.
The servant bowed, his neatly styled brown hair never moving out of place in his elegant movement. He made his way out, not even so much of an echoed footstep behind him as he closed the door.
Ghosts.
Sulien had once thought but realised that he was speaking more of himself.
His silver armour hung closer to his body; he felt the weight of the metal upon his shoulders as it clogged in heat. But he had trained in one too many summer days to be affected by it.
He walked down the familiar hallway, with its golden rimmed interior and marble columns that towered above him. The sun played its dominance in the sky, sending its warping rays through the glass dome that amplified its brilliance.
It was always there as a reminder.
A reminder of who he was – somebody else's.
And he sought to change that, perhaps in another life where he wasn't born into prestige.
"Ares," He calls informally, "You called for me?"
His eyes landed upon the golden ornamental throne, with its medallic spears protruding out the back like a peacock boasting its feathers. Sulien knew that it was meant to be a representation of his brother's military power (which was due to his accomplishments, but he let his brother have the glory).
Ares sat upon the throne; his hand fisted as he leaned his head upon it. He flashed his blue eyes at Sulien, the same pair of blue eyes that he had. But their blue eyes were inherited from their mother and not their dead Father. He looked young although he was a good seven years older than Sulien, with light brown hair and pale white skin that could be likened to snow.
"Brother, you need to address me as King. It is only a formality," he says, though the small smile on his features indicated that he had not minded.
Sulien waved a hand in dismissal, "Spare me the formalities, Brother,"
Ares lets out a laugh before his posture shifted upright.
The change made Sulien uncomfortable.
"Guards, servants, you may take your leave. I wish to speak with Prince Sulien alone," Ares orders.
Sulien's heart instinctively shuddered at his Brother's tone. He recognised it as his Brother's command, a voice that nobody could ignore. It rippled through you and sent your soul into action before your body could.
This was why he was King.
"What's wrong?" Sulien asked once the doors closed shut behind him.
Ares bent forward; his elbows rested on his knees as he strung his fingers together. His brows furrowed as if contemplating how to form his words.
"There has been a disturbance in our Kingdom," Ares began, "Well, there has always been a disturbance. Our Kingdom has lived with demons and monsters for centuries, their powers and magic made it too hard for us to defeat all of them given the sheer number,"
Sulien nodded.
"I had some people research on how to rid of these monsters, another way, a more effective method. And after a few months of gathering intel, there seemed to be a way to remove the source of their powers. Without it, these unholy creatures would be vulnerable and weak,"
"What is it?" Sulien inquired.
"A gem, a so-called Forbidden Gem or otherwise known as the Ikigai Hoseki. It lies deep in the caves of The Crossover,"
"How did your men manage to find it?"
Ares sighed, "That's the problem. They haven't. Nobody knows where it is. Not the villagers, not the natives, not the kingdom scholars. We just know it exists,"
Sulien frowned, confusion slipped onto his features unknowingly.
Ares spotted it immediately, "Let me show you,"
He yelled for Solomon, his own personal guard that has served the previous King and now him.
The doors slammed open with sounds of moans and cries, the squeal of skin upon the marble floor made Sulien visibly flinch.
"Please," a man with uncut and messy grey hair and dressed in rags pleaded, "Please, stop. I told you everything. Please,"
"This man – or monster – possesses otherworldly powers that he claims to be bestowed upon him by the Ikigai Hoseki,"
Sulien looked at the man, his skin stuck to his bones and outlined the curves of his skeleton. He was malnourished and underfed, with his torn shirt revealing a part of his ribs as the skin sunk in after every breath. He wondered when his Brother accepted the use of such treatment just to gather information.
"How are you so sure he tells the truth?" Sulien asked again, his eyes never leaving the tear-filled ones of the man in front of him.
Ares lifted a hand which seemed to be the instructions for Solomon to whisper a set of words into the man's ear. His eyes immediately widened with fear and he stumbled forward on his chained hands and legs.
"Please, don't. I have powers to prove," He begged and held out his hands.
For a moment, nothing happened. Sulien just peered at his hands that trembled and shook with pure terror and fear. He wanted to reach out to him, but he refused to. He trusted his Brother to know what he was doing. Perhaps this man was a criminal, a war prisoner that so happened to possess knowledge of their lands – and so happens to possess powers that his brother managed to overrule.
Then a glow of light formed in his hands, light that was as natural as the sun. Yet, it came from an unnatural source. No human should be able to form light out of the palm of their hands. This was not light from a flame sparked from coal, this was rays of light, a miniature ball of sun.
This man held Sulien in the palm of his hands.
He couldn't help but stare as his heart sunk slowly to the pit of his stomach. Was he fearful of the man in front of him? The man that couldn't even lift his hands without shuddering, the man that had his cheeks sunken in and eyebags that looked bruised. The man that was fighting for his life.
Yet, he feared him.
He feared this unnatural power that seemed so natural in his hands.
"There is a village, a community of people, people with magic and powers like me. They live within The Crossover, somewhere. It is hard to find, but you will know the place when you see it," the man almost whispered but Sulien heard his words grow like vines down his spine.
The light stuttered and burnt out in the man's hands.
"You trust his words, Ares?" Sulien turned to his Brother that gaged his reactions carefully, and he was careful not to let his voice slip or shudder, "I will send an army to storm through The Crossover until we find this village of monsters,"
From the corner of his eye, the man flinched at his words.
Ares gave a knowing smile, "Plan carefully Sulien, if they have hidden under our noses for thousands of years. What makes you think you can find them in just a few days?"
Sulien broke into an arrogant grin, "King, you underestimate me. I may not have abnormal powers, but I do have my intuition and instinct,"
Ares nodded, "You have given me a lot, little brother. And I will forever be grateful for you. If only your brothers were equally as helpful as you are to me. Prepare your army, we will send them out in 2 weeks once you have pinpointed this village,"
Sulien smirked, "All I need is one,"
But as Sulien turned to take his leave, he had not noticed the smirk that formed on the King's features.
The doors slammed shut by the sheer weight of it and King Ares let his eyes wander towards the shaken man that kept his head bowed.
"What shall we do next, Sir?" Solomon asked, his hands neatly behind his back as he towered over the prisoner.
"We wait, Solomon," King Ares responded, his eyes coated in thrill and anticipation. "We wait for power,"
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Sulien rested in his chambers with his eyes set on the ceiling.
The art unfolded the stories of their Kingdom, a constant reminder of its history.
The moon dictated the evils of the world.
The beasts tore and shredded families for centuries.
The soldiers threw fire and stone to keep them at bay.
The Kingdom of Arcastia that burnt and bled.
The fields were stained red from unidentified blood.
And finally, the sun dictated the hope of the world.
The hope was him.
The sun was him.
The light was him.
Yet, Sulien had always preferred the night.
He found himself on his feet and tugging on a thick, dark coat. It was long enough that it hit his knees and concealed a golden encrusted dagger that hung low against his hips. He pushed the doors open, startling the guards that stood wearily on the other side.
"Prince Sulien," They greeted in unison.
Sulien nodded as a greeting, before picking up his pace down the hallway before they could sprout any questions about his whereabouts. He wanted to be alone to enjoy the night and having constant guards on his back defeated that purpose.
And just as he thought that he heard his guards' footsteps echo closer.
"Prince! Please let us accompany you, King Ares will be upset if you have no protection!" One shouts.
Sulien let a mischievous smile slip onto his features. He turned at the end of the hallway and he heard the rapid footsteps turn into loud jogs. Sulien quickly opened the golden rimmed windows, his feet settled upon the ledge.
"Prince!" They shout.
He gives them a side look, "I'll be back soon," was all he said before he leapt out into the night.
The guards yelled out in panic as they ran towards the open window only to be confronted by the moon and the stars but not their sun-lit Prince.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Sulien found himself wandering the villages of Arcastia.
He was out of the Capital and was now on a dirt path with just a simple line of fire to illuminate his way towards his destination.
He found this ironic.
He pulled up his hood to shield his face from the reflected rays of light from the moon. He ensured to keep his footsteps quiet even against the crunched and dried ground.
The air was horrendous here. He wasn't even sure if he was even breathing in the air that the Earth had provided or merely the smog and smoke from the fire and work.
He came to a stop in front of a wooden sign, its name carved deep onto the wood.
It was almost impossible to read in the night, but he caught its message along with the flicker of the light.
Eardwulf.
This was known to be the village that resided on the edge of The Crossover.
The last safe space to harbour human life and agriculture due to the rich nutrient soil. It was also home to one of the most famous blacksmiths in the country – Eloy Nez.
He had been offered to be the army's head blacksmith, yet he declined the offer in the name of taking care of his daughter.
Sulien found himself in an alleyway with low stone houses on either side of him. The walls were stained with black grime and pockets of ferns that managed to sprout between the gaps. He found a spot that was considerably clean and leaned upon it, leaving him to his thoughts.
He glanced up to the night sky that sparkled with stars of silver and gold. This was a different scene than what he was used to in the castle. The Capitol was dominated by the blaze from countless fires that lined the stone cobbled streets and late-night shops. Some fires burnt too bright that they outshone the stars and moon as they tried to compete for attention. But Sulien didn't like it when the fires shielded his gaze from the beauty beyond it.
Funny how the same canvas could be seen so differently just by perspective.
"Do you have some business here this late into the night, Sir?" he heard a gentle voice.
It took him a while to realise that the question was directed at him.
He tucked his hood down, though he was certain that she couldn't see him from the window she looked out of. So here he was, perpendicular to whoever spoke, only separated by a wall. She could have easily peered out and turned her head to face him, yet she didn't.
He was quietly grateful.
"I apologise," He finally says, "I was merely taking a stroll and thought that the night looked particularly alluring from this vantage point,"
"I agree with you," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice, "Though the sun would rise once more in just a few hours. It will brighten this canvas,"
There it was again, a reminder that he would need to return. That he would only have this night of solitude and peace for just a few more hours.
"I much prefer the night," He says.
"Do you not prefer the sun that blazes across the Earth? Why the moon that is only a mere reflection of it?" She questioned.
"The moon is its own entity in the night, it's light – although borrowed and quiet – allows others, like the stars, to shine while still being prominent. I think it's quite beautiful. I do not believe that the sun even wants to outshine others, nor make its presence glaringly known every time it steps out from its slumber. I think it is unfortunate to be born as such,"
"An interesting theory indeed," her voice was nearly a whisper that he strained to hear.
"Do you not find it frightening to speak with a stranger in the night?" He wondered aloud.
"You mean no harm," she says simply.
He was taken aback by her confidence.
"How can you be so certain? You ought to keep your guard up, miss,"
She was quiet for a while. And he anticipated her response. He bowed his head slightly and closed his eyes. It was as though if he shut out his sight, he would amplify his hearing.
"My intuition tells me you're safe, that you are no threat," She finally replies. "I know when people truly harbour evil intentions,"
"I doubt that intuition is absolutely reliable," He lets out a laugh.
He heard her snicker. "Others perhaps. But mine are absolute,"
"It was nice speaking with you, Miss. You made the night remarkably better," He cracks a smile but is careful not to lift his head.
"Likewise, Mr. Stranger," she laughed quietly, never allowing her voice to disrupt the tranquillity that they both enjoyed.
"Enjoy the rest of your respite, Miss. I shall take my leave," He spoke but his words fell flat upon his reluctance.
"I bid you a safe journey, Mr. Stranger. May we meet again under much less frightening circumstances,"
Sulien says nothing as he turned to leave.
But little did he know that he left his heart behind.