Iordan played with the ashy strands of hair between his fingers in a state of utter boredom. He lay scattered in bed still in his leathers after a day of sparring with the King. The cracked skin on his knuckles and black eye did not bother him nearly the same as the stagnation of his routine. Day in day out he would train, study and work the same hours to become worthy of the throne and nothing changed in his father's eyes. He let out a ferocious sigh and rolled flat onto his back. Even the ceiling paint is dull, he thought. The young prince stared at the white canvas until his eyes grew tired and began to weigh heavy in their sockets. Yet he flinched as a light twang rattled against the window. Then another, another, and another. "The fuck!" He exclaimed, jolting up and throwing the covers aside. In the same frustrated tone, he threw open the window. "Do you know who's window you are throwing rocks at?"
"Well, yours blondie, obviously." Abel smirked. In the shadows below Iordan spied two boys.
"Shit what are you doing on palace grounds, are you insane? My father will kill you!" Iordan shout-whispered.
"Uh, do you see any guards?" Said Abel, gesturing to his surroundings. "I believe the King won't have time to be killing us when he's going to be so busy whipping his security in check. Come down. Caine wants to play."
"Is that true?" Iordan deadpanned. Abel punched his young brother in the shoulder while maintaining his fake smile.
"Uhuh! I want to play…um, tag! I want to play tag."
"See! He wants to play. You won't disappoint a kid, right?" Iordan sighed, running his hands down his face. Such a headache, he thought, but there must be a reason he is dragging me out here at this time. While playful in his demeanour, Abel carried a serious look in his eyes. Something is bothering him.
"Alright. One moment." He mumbled. He darted about his room collecting his thickest clothing and pillows, shoving them under his cover in the shape of a fifteen-year-old boy. "I'm going to climb down. If I fall you better catch me." Iordan swung his legs over the edge of his window and stared down three stories below him, then upon taking a resolute, deep breath, he grappled to the stone wall and twisted. Locking his fingers into the incaves of the rock and slowly making his way down, he wondered what Abel wanted from him and why Caine needed to be there. Hopefully the child is more than an excuse to get him down, otherwise that is just cruel, he thought.
"Yay, you didn't break your neck!" said Able, clapping as Iordan's feet hit the ground sending snow flying. "Let's go, I would rather play tag in the forest."
"Oh so it's you that wants to play tag now?" Iordan raised his brow in sarcasm. Abel laughed. The young man's brown hair highlighted the snow that came to rest on it and his tall frame towered over the others. Out of everyone present, he ironically appeared the most princely. He led the way, sneaking through the palace gardens until the group came across a hole in the wall behind some juvenile spruce trees. A very fresh hole in the wall. "You broke the damn wall!"
"Shh! Quiet! It was kind of loose anyway. I just gave the bricks a nudge." Said Abel before he passed through the exit. Iordan's glare passed onto Caine.
"It wasn't loose, was it?"
"Aha…" Caine giggled before scrambling through himself. "Brother run; he knows!"
"I am going to kill you both!"
"He's it Caine! We must run, go go!" Cried Abel as the pair took off into the woods with Iordan close behind. As he predicted though, after only a few minutes Abel slowed quickly and waited for his friend to catch up. In an instant, the playfulness turned ice cold. Iordan met his gaze, and his warm green eyes froze the prince to the spot. "I want to talk to you."
"I have gathered that much." He said, steeling himself for whatever may come next, all the while keeping an eye on trees to ensure Caine did not stand within earshot.
"Then I will be straight with you," Abel's jaw set. "I've been summoned to fight in the war. I leave tomorrow morning at dawn." Iordan's composure shattered like glass and the words passed straight through him. With wide eyes and a jaw on the floor his reaction emerged a gibbering, stuttering mess with the only comprehensible word being 'no' repeatedly. Sheer desperation set his mind immediately on crisis management.
"No let me, let me pull some strings I can, I can stop this please!" He said with his head in his hands. "You are not allowed to go, I forbid it!" Abel smiled.
"Unfortunately, blondie, you are not king just yet." He said as he placed his hand on Iordan's head. His brows rose in surprise. "Wow don't cry, do you really think so low of me that I'm going to die out there?" Iordan grit his teeth, so hard that it hurt. "I wanted to talk to you today, but it's not really about me."
"What the hell else is there that could be worse than this!" Iordan yelled in his face.
"Caine. He's going to be alone. I can't have that." Iordan pushed his hand away.
"Then let me help you. I can fix this; you don't have to go anywhere. It's not fair!"
"Iordan. I'm sixteen, I'm eligible, and unfortunately fate decided that my name would be selected from the lottery. It is as fair a way to decide than anything. If you corrupt that then it truly would be unfair, to everyone else that must go and to the poor person that would take my place. If not Caine, then another child will be left alone and scared without the protection of the crown. Does that seem like a fair alternative to you?" Iordan's legs buckled, and he resigned himself to the snow, still tightly gripping his face to keep the tears in. Abel knelt beside him. "He has already lost Seth; I need you to look out for him. I'm begging you."
"I hate it." Said Iordan. He closed his mouth into a hard line, as if trying to keep his following words at bay. "But of course I will." Abel let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you! Thank you so much." He put on a smile. "Hey it's not like I will be gone long. I'm going to win this war for us so I can come home sooner."
"Damn right you will, have I taught you nothing?" Iordan laughed with puffy red eyes. As Abel leant forward to answer, a child's scream permeated the woods. Both boys' heads snapped to the direction it emanated from and before they could take a single step a deep echoing call ran through them in waves. Iordan felt it hit his chest as the impact slammed him backwards into the trees. His back hit the bark at a frightening speed and he cried out in pain, clutching his head. With bleeding ringing ears all he could discern with the throbbing of his heart and the pounding in his head. "Abel," he shouted, coughing and staining the snow red. Iordan frantically reached for the dagger on his belt, and with the other hand pulled himself upright onto wobbling feet. Through darkness and tearing eyes he scanned the treeline. "Abel!"
The world stood still and silent. Not a single leaf nor even the air dared to stir it, only Iordan's shaking breathing and the soft dripping of blood on metal. What godforsaken disaster just struck me, he thought.
"Iordan," Abel gasped. Iordan's eyes darted to the moving shadow ten feet away. Abel crawled towards him, clutching his side with one hand and dragging himself with the other, leaving a trail behind him. Iordan rushed to his side. "What was that?" said Abel. Although deafened Iordan discerned his meaning. He shook his head in ignorance, instead focusing on the deep gash to Abel's torso. Immediately the prince ripped off his coat, tore it in two and dressed the wound.
"You will not be leaving me now will you," said Iordan, trying to get his trembling hands under control to tie a knot. "Perhaps this is God's way of telling you no." Abel's eyes widened.
"Iordan."
"We will find Caine, and then we will go home okay?"
"Iordan!"
"I will get you the best medical care in the palace, Doctor Harowe will fix you I promise-" Abel grabbed him and pulled him backwards just as a blade slammed down where he was seconds earlier. His body froze and his jaw slacked in awe and horror. Under the scattered white moonlight, a ghostly illuminated giant stood above them, casting them into shadow with its great black wings. In foreign armour, the humanoid creature with fair white hair and masked eyes held in one hand a gilded swallow and in the other the limp bloody body of Caine Vancourts.
"Niis, esiaschs."
Hyperventilating, his mind raced in a cocktail of adrenaline and cortisol. Flashes of sanity blinked in and out of existence as he fought to stay conscious and comprehend. The creature crouched down. Flashes of metal and silver caught in his peripherals, and it occurred to him they were surrounded, outnumbered, yet he could only stare forward unblinking as its lips parted and revealed a fanged smile. Long clawed fingers outstretched and writhed around his neck from behind. Time slowed down. Iordan felt the cold on his cheeks as silent tears fell from his eyes. Steam curled in the air from his haggard breaths as they choked him, his hands dropping at his sides - the dagger slowly sliding from his grasp. He could not break his stare even then when death stared back at him and revealed itself from below the mask. In that moment, Numbness replaced his fear. Iordan pulled at his final strand of bravery.
"I know what you are." He delved the dagger into the skull of the angel behind him and vaulted backwards, freeing himself from its grasp. Iordan grabbed its discarded sword and snapping into action he dived for the next, who captured Abel. In their surprise, the angels shrieked and scattered. Iordan lunged at the angel and went to strike it, narrowly missing as it moved in a blur to escape him. Abel gasped for air and scrambled to Caine who had been tossed aside in their outrage. "Run, Abel!" Iordan cried. He ignored him and continued towards his brother as the angels circled them once more. Iordan's gaze flitted from angel to angel as he twirled with his sword outstretched.
"Cordziz…" The winged angel cackled, letting out a haunting laughter that rattled his bones. Iordan turned to face him as the angels enclosed upon them.
"Abel, get out of here now, I will hold them off, do you understand?" His eyebrows knitted together, he steeled himself for battle. Yet, he heard no response. His heart sank. "Abel." He said in a small voice. The smell of iron hit him first, and using the last of his strength, Iordan forced himself to turn and look.
His best friend looked back at him, yet no life remained in those green eyes. Abel stood propped up only by the arm that travelled through him, holding in its fist a still beating heart.