Paul, Edgar and Elliott were in awe as they looked upon the large and majestic house that stood in front of them, adoring its structural beauty. The house was made out of three large spheres that were built on top of a contraption that looked like a three armed, gruesome being from lore and myth. Each sphere was connected by a floating staircase which bobbed when people stepped on it. The sleekness of the structure made it seem entirely otherworldly, much like most of Monkshood was.
"This is magnificent," Edgar breathed in wonder, the black pupils in his gunmetal blue eyes dilating as they moved around to appreciate the garden and the patio.
Uncountable number of flowers in different varieties led the way to the house, showering the air around with floral fragrances. Edgar was in sheer delight as he placed his fingertips on every soft petal at his side and moved his fingertips from flower to flower as he stepped forward.
Paul had his eyes squinted, observing the surrounding. "Why is this place so deserted, while there are people upstairs?" He questioned Elliott who was plucking several flowers and making a bouquet out of them.
"That, cousin of mine, is because there's a party," Elliott answered, finishing the bouquet of flowers of six colors, "Can you imagine having all the colors of the rainbow in your garden? Elianna would burst from envy if she sees this." He cackled mischievously.
"A party?" Paul questioned with his usual doubtful face. Paul's doubtful expression made him look prettier than usual. His messy dark brown hair, his frowned thick eyebrows, tightened perfect jawline, tensed muscles tanned by his countless days under the sun.
"Warlocks are quite festive creatures," Elliott replied, inhaling the fragrance of the flowers in his bouquet.
"How do you know there's a party?" Edgar questioned as the three of them reached the massive door on the lowest sphere which was closed and had a symbol of a six cornered star across it.
"Look," Elliott moved his fingers across the wall and golden glitter gathered to his fingertips. "There's this stuff everywhere. They do it when there's a party."
"You know quite a lot about warlocks," Paul teased with a smirk, "Any particular reason why?"
"It does help with the ladies when you have a good knowledge about the world that surrounds them," Elliot replied, with a wink and a rakish grin "And who am I but a connoisseur of such intellect."
Edgar rolled his eyes, "Well the, if you're such a worldly gentleman, pray tell how we open this door?"
"With pleasure, cousin!"
Elliott knocked on the door and said, "Hic sumus ad convivium" which meant 'we are here for the party' in Latin.
The door opened revealing the grand interior filled with countless fantastical creatures. Edgar marveled at the coolness of marble and the sheer beauty of dome-like walls and the exquisite paintings hanged on them. Six massive pillars held the curved ceiling up. On the center of the hall was a band of men with green skin and horns playing various instruments neither Paul nor Edgar have ever seen before. There were throngs of faeries the size of Edgar's palm carrying refreshments for the guests who plucked them off the levitating trays, laughing and making merry with each other.
The brothers felt so out of their league in this strange surrounding, but they kept their faces passive in order to not show their emotion. Elliot's gaze centered in on one woman who made her way towards them through the crowd.
She was a tall beauty with long candy-floss colored hair that spilled down her shoulders like a waterfall. She wore a gown that was only a shade paler than the color of her hair, a baby-rose garment that hugged all her curves and her contours maddeningly. She glided through the crowd with a grace that was natural as the moon was to a wolf. She looked like a porcelain doll highlighted in pink, with her face paint and her clothes. Her burgundy eyes flashed as they settled on Elliot, and a slow smile curved on her lips.
"Now don't tell me she's merlin," Paul muttered, his eyes widening only a fraction.
"Oh, she's better, actually. Not in the magical sense but well, you'll see." Elliot remarked, grinning from ear to ear as the woman closed in on them.
Suddenly, before she could talk, a dark-skinned man twice as short as the three of them scurried to through the crowd to stand in front of them, his expression being one of annoyance.
"I don't remember having any wolf men in the list," said the man as his eyes darted between the boys, narrowing. "Trespassers are not welcome!"
"I don't think we need to be in anyone's list," Paul snapped, crossing his arms across his broad chest.
The little man reddened, but before he could explode at them, the woman in pink laid a palm on his head.
"Calm yourself, Rosario, I know these fine gentlemen," She said, surprising everyone, "I'll handle them, as they are my guests."
"Very well," Rosario gave the boys another sideway look, but left the area.
The lady stepped closer to Elliott, placed her palm on his chest and whispered into his ears, "Long time no see, Throckmorton."
Elliott handed over the bouquet he made for the lady and placed a quick kiss on her cheek.
"Trust me milady, when I say that's it's been a torturously long time," He stated.
"Mhmm, why did you wait so long then?" The woman breathed, ghosting her nails over the fabric that covered the werewolf's chest, making his eyes dilate with a spark of desire.
"Because a supposedly wise man once said, 'Semper in absentes felicior aestus amantes'," Paul replied, their face closing in, "And I've been wanting to test if distance truly does make the heart grow fonder."
Before the woman could answer Paul interjected, "Excuse me, but we need to meet Merlin urgently. I feel like I should put it out here before my cousin gets even more distracted."
Elliott rolled his eyes with a smile on his face as the woman spoke, "Merlin's not here."
For the first time she took a clear glance of Paul.
She was startled by what she saw, but she got her stunned eyes to appear passive, "But he will be here soon. It's his party after all."
Paul and Edgar sighed in disappointment.
"Well, cousins," Elliot said, wrapping an arm around the pink beauty by his side, "It seems like we've got some time to kill. I suggest we take part in the festivities until the host arrives. You're both grown men who can take care of yourself, so I bid adieu for the time being. Just holler if you're in trouble!"
Before either Blackwell brother could protest, Elliot whisked the woman away, mingling with the crowd.
"That rat," Paul muttered, looking a bit like a lost child, "What are we supposed to do in a warlock party? Sit down and twiddle our thumbs?"
Edgar smiled a bit at his brother's tone, and reached across to swipe two champagne flutes from a passing server, "Or perhaps we could ease our minds for a moment," He replied, handing the a glass to Paul, " Forget ourselves for a moment."
"Tempting, but this is unfamiliar territory, Edgar. We should be on guard." Paul retorted, sipping at the sweet fizzy delight.
His eyes caught something, and he said, "Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is that a man in a dress?"
"Pardon?" Edgar followed his brother's gaze.
His breath hitched.
The man looked no older than he was and he glided through the crowd in a graze hat was similar to that of the lady in pink. Edgar had never seen such a spectacle before, and his eyes were confused about where they should latch on. His tall, lithe but muscular frame? His hair that was cut short in a strange style, unbelievably straight and glossy in the light of the hall? Or should he stare at that dark, glittery, emerald colored gown that was a tad translucent, wrapped around his frame as if it was a part of his being? Or his face, reminiscent of an eastern Asian man with those lean brown eyes that were tinged in kohl, tan skin smooth as a flower petal, and high cheekbones that sloped down to impossibly plump lips that just looked like a succulent strawberry?
When he moved his arms, the fabric around his biceps bunched to show the hardness of the muscle underneath, and Edgar realized he was gaping.
"He's…beautiful…" Edgar whispered, unable to tear his eyes away.
"Hmm. I think it's too much," Paul replied, his eyes darting towards Elliot and the woman who were wound around one another, kissing passionately. He was never used to such open displays of affection, and the crassness of it made him blush. Warlocks were really a different breed.
"Because it's a dress?" Edgar questioned.
"Because of the color. Green on a dress is vile."
Edgar rolled his eyes, "You're being absurd. Oh, look, he's dancing!"
The man in the green gown moved his body in the rhythm of the racy music that had just started, making almost everyone in the hall join him. Green sparks flew from his fingertips, rising to the ceiling to come together into bid-like shapes that flapped their rings around.
Paul so how smitten his little brother looked, ad decided that he should annoy the younger man just for a laugh.
"Warlocks have such a bad fashion taste," He remarked as he slung an arm over Edgar's shoulders, pointedly keeping his gaze away from the currently moaning couple behind him.
"I'm sorry, are you a seamstress now to comment on random dresses?"
"Do I have to be a dressmaker to see if a garment is good or not? You know, instead of wasting time here, we should go out and keep a lookout. Might find something much more important."
Edgar gave Paul a glare, making the older man cackle, "If all the pretty people here is making your ego hurt, do go out, Paul. I hate to see your self-esteem suffer."
"If a man in a dress can hurt my ego, then there wasn't much of it to begin with anyways." Paul retorted.
Edgar opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly, a commotion began in the crowd.
Behind the green-clad man, a sphere of flames appeared. The music stopped as the crowd gasped, and the sphere began to increase in size, flattening into a circle. The flames brightened as a figure manifested in the middle of the circle.
A boy stumbled out from the circle, covered in soot and grime from head to toe, his feature undistinguishable. He limped out of the circle, taking a few steps forward, right in Edgar's direction.
Then he fell, his strength leaving his weakened body, making his collapse into Edgar's arms. The movement caught Edgar off-guard, and they both fell to the floor.
That's when they heard a raspy cry.
A large crow, twice the size of the boy shot out from the portal. The crowd screamed, and chaos erupted.
The crow landed on the green-clad man, knocking him to the floor. And before the man could even cry out, the bird's massive beak embedded itself through the man's chest.
The man screamed a blood-curdling scream as blood splattered everywhere.
The crow opened its beak, tearing the man in two.