"A home filled with nothing but yourself. It's heavy, that lightness. It's crushing, that emptiness."
― Margaret Atwood, The Tent
"You're here because my idiot son thinks you're the answer to our problems." The King squinted one eye in Ven's direction.
"Father..." Jun scratched the back of his neck. "I just think he can help us," The young dragon-kin stared into Ven's black eyes. "My father is on the edge of his breakthrough, but without Ooulin or another Earth Deity to stand guard..."
"I have many enemies," The old king grumbled. "It will take me years of seclusion to advance and we lack the forces to guard our lands while I'm gone."
"But now we've found a hero," Jun leaned forward, his youthful face bright. "You didn't have to save us from the Ori, but you did." He took a knee and bowed his head. "Please, lend us your help again!"
"Get up you idiot!" The King swatted the young prince on the back of his head. "We don't bow to anyone, and I've told you, this man isn't even a Semi-Divine, he can't help us."
"But..."
"Your father is right, kid," Ven shook his head. "I'm not a hero, and even if I was, I'm not strong enough to deal with defending a kingdom."
"There, now you've heard it from him." The King placed a hand on Jun's shoulder. "This isn't the chronicles of legend, in the real world we can't wait for a hero to walk out of the sunset."
"I..."
"That's enough now, go help your sister while I talk with our... guest."
Jun slumped in on himself. He nodded to his father and bowed to Ven before he turned and trudged away. He gave a final glance over his shoulder before he vanished in the garden's green.
"He's a good boy," The King's gaze remained fixed on Jun's path. "Stupid and weak, but his morals turned out ok."
"He's not stupid," Ven sighed. "He's just young."
"Indeed!" The King laughed. "We old men understand that," He looked at Ven with a glint in his eye. "Sometimes, we can only compromise with the world, not change it."
"Compromise..." Ven had enough of compromise over the years. Each one he made darkened his path, until he lost sight of what his destination was meant to be.
"But don't worry," The King slapped Ven's back like an old friend. "It wastes time and prevents you from enjoying life!"
His hand gripped Ven's shoulder like a vice.
"Now, let's have some fun while we wait."
"Fun?"
"Yes, fun!" The king grinned, a wicked smile that crawled over Ven's skin. "Since we're friends, as little Huan said, then we should get to know one another."
"What do..."
"And the best way to learn about someone, from my experience, is to fight them!" The King ignored Ven's words. With a single step, he dragged Ven from the palace garden and into a large, empty ring.
"This is the place where our Semi-Divines spar," The King waved at the smooth, sandy ground. "We'll use it for our little match."
"Alright," Ven's mouth rose in a wide curve behind his mask. "But you can't blame me If you get hurt." The King's power might be beyond him, but Ven's mouth still filled with saliva. He could smell the man's core. Like a clarion call, it beckoned him to fight and devour.
"Bwahaha!" The Mad King bellowed. "We're going to be great friends, I can tell!" He walked a dozen meters away and tossed his gilded robe aside. "But be careful with those hungry eyes, boy, or I'll get offended."
The King's old body was layered with scars. A checkerboard of misaligned flesh, more pockmark than skin. His silver eyes gained slitted pupils and his muscles swelled. The expansion kicked up a haze of sand and Ven squinted through the dust. The man was gone, replaced by an elephant-sized silver dragon. It loomed above Ven, its mouth opened wide.
"Now, show me what you can do!" The transformed King roared.
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"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Huan clapped her hands as she spun about in the center of the kitchens. "We must create the largest feast this country has ever seen!"
The staff, who already worked at their maximum speed, gave her bemused glances as they chopped and stirred. The head chef stepped forward, hands pressed to his reddened cheeks.
"Little Miss, are you sure the king will approve of using so many rare ingredients?"
"Shut up old man, or I'll squeeze your face again!" Huan waved a small fist under the chef's nose. "My future husband deserves only the best!"
"But, Little Miss..."
Huan jabbed her thumbs into the man's eyes. The chef howled and left his cheeks unguarded, hands clasped over his brow. The princess gave a wicked grin, a mirror of her father, as she grasped the man by the face.
"No buts, only cooking." Huan's singsong voice didn't match her actions as she tightened her grip. "Got it?"
"Yes, Little Miss..." The chef sobbed.
"Let him go, Huan," Jun's voice came to the poor man's rescue. "He's just doing his job."
"Pfff," Huan snorted. "His job is to listen to me, not question my orders!" She dropped the chef, who scampered into the depths of the massive kitchen. "Where is daddy, and my future husband?"
"They'll join us when dinner is done, I'd imagine." Jun flicked his sister between the eyes. "Now stop playing 'little tyrant' and let the staff do their work."
"Fine..." Huan sighed. "But you have to play with me while we wait!" She scampered up Jun's back and gipped him by the horns. "Charge, horsy, charge!"
"Hey!" Jun complained. "Arn't you too old for this game?"
"Never! Now go horsy, GO!"
"As you command, oh mighty princess." Jun sighed and jogged forward. Huan steered him by the horns and slammed her heels into his side, as if she wore spurs.
"Yaaay! Let's go to the library and play horse show!"
"I should have stayed with Father..." Jun grit his teeth and plodded toward the library.