Caring for someone is like tending a delicate plant—you nurture it with love, but sometimes the thorns still sting.
Alliances
In the hall, dozens of mages waited in their various colored robes, their hoods pulled low over their faces. The air was thick with a piquant mix of nervousness and excitement. The silence was occasionally broken by low, muffled whispers, but when the door to the room opened, everyone fell silent.
Almost simultaneously, the leaders of the mage clans turned their eyes toward the door. I did not flinch under the weight of their stares. I wore a feather-light fae shirt, appropriate for the occasion, with an iron leather belt cinched around my waist. A long vampire cloak draped over my shoulders and my face was obscured by a hunter's bone mask.
"Hello," I greeted the gathered mages.
For a moment, the room was filled with tense whispers and nervous murmurs.
"I think you all know why I have called you here," I began in a velvety voice. "So, I do not wish to waste any more of your time. Those of you who are willing to form an alliance with me against the Syndicate, stay. Those who are not, leave."
"Ridiculous!" snorted one of the magicians. "Do you think we're joining you just because you asked us to?"
"That's right!" another added. "First, make us an offer we can consider."
"An offer?" I repeated, a mocking smile edging my voice.
At this, the wizards faltered.
"If you do not stand with me, the Syndicate will engulf your clans," I said softly. "No one knows that better than you. My offer is that your clans can keep their freedom."
Some of the mages tensed visibly, others stared in disbelief, and I heard a few in the back grinding their teeth.
"So?" I grinned beneath the mask. "What is your offer to me?"
Many of them began to murmur and grumble.
"Arrogant mongrel!" shouted a mage in blue robes.
"That's right, rookie!" another shouted in agreement.
They would have continued grumbling if I hadn't intervened.
"Why did you come, then, if not to make me an offer?"
Of course, I knew the answer to my own question. It was the first time in centuries that anyone had been able to stand up to even a single member of the Syndicate. I was their only glimmer of hope.
"Prove your power," demanded a man in a green robe.
The crowd roared in approval. I grinned wickedly beneath the mask and let my presence loose. Most of the magicians froze instantly, some clutching their throats, others burying themselves in the folds of their cloaks. In any case, the room fell silent.
"Those who are willing to ally themselves with me against the Syndicate, let them stay. Those who are not, let them go," I repeated.
Most of the magicians left without a word, but I did not regret it; in fact, I smiled with satisfaction. Only a handful remained: two gold-robed mages, a blue-robed figure, and a green-robed wizard. Perhaps most intriguing was the mage in a blue and white cloak, lurking in the shadows at the edge of the room.
"Very well," I said with a nod. "I am grateful for your decision. I will contact you with further information later."
With that, the mage in blue disappeared instantly with a flash of magic. The green-robed mage bowed slightly, showing the proper respect for a ruler. After a few moments, only three mages were left.
The mage in the blue and white cloak stepped away from the wall and walked toward me. His steps were light, almost weightless, yet the soles of his shoes clicked softly on the concrete. Chains with bells adorned his boots, chiming softly with each step. He looked up at me, his eyes peeking out from under a dark, veil-like mask. There was no hint of malice or disappointment in his caramel-brown eyes, only a profound sadness.
He reached out to ruffle my hair. As he was much shorter than me, he had to rise slightly on tiptoe. His touch was gentle, careful, and perhaps a bit comforting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two gold-robed mages standing frozen in the distance.
"I know it's customary to congratulate you," Vio began in his velvety voice, which usually warmed the heart but now sounded decidedly sad. "But if I said it, I wouldn't be sincere."
Vio withdrew his hand, and I saw his lips curve slightly under the veil, forming a bittersweet smile.
"You've suffered a lot," he whispered to himself. "And now you've barely become king, and you have to fight for your throne."
Vio regarded me with the eyes of an old sage looking at a tiny, fragile child. In his eyes, I was indeed a child.
"Don't worry," I said softly.
Vio looked at me in silence for a moment longer, as if reluctant to leave. Finally, he glanced at the gold-robed mages.
"Take care," he said, and I nodded in acknowledgment.
Then Vio spun around and vanished like a mirage, leaving behind only the faint, maddeningly sweet scent of his magic. Now, only the two figures in their golden cloaks remained.
Olie finally snorted and threw his hood over his shoulders. Eddie followed suit, and I removed my mask. For a moment, we exchanged silent, scrutinizing glances. I knew they were going to ask about my connection to Vio. No, on second thought, what they really wanted to know was why Vio, a feared mage, was so kind and considerate toward me. But Olie and Eddie didn't ask anything.
"Well?" I began. "Was I convincing?"
Olie rolled his eyes. "What do you expect me to do, sing praises of your greatness, Your Majesty?"
"That's a start," I chuckled. "If you're good enough, I might consider taking you into my court."
Olie made a face as if threatened with death. My grin widened.
"Why did you ask us to stay?" Eddie inquired.
"Oh, yes," I began. "I want you to help me train the members of my court."
Olie's face grew even grimmer. "Don't you already have a mage?"
"Don't worry, Mazen will do his share of the work," I said.
Mazen appeared next to me as if he had just quoted my words. He cast a piercing look at the other two mages. I mentally praised my favorite dark mage for managing to keep a neutral expression. The look in his eyes suggested he had just noticed something unpleasant on his shoes, but otherwise, he was tolerable. Olie and Eddie, however, seemed visibly unsettled by Mazen's presence. I wondered what my friend Mazen had done to earn such disdain from other mages.
"You know how to follow me, don't you?" I asked the two mages. Before they could answer, I was already clutching Mazen's cloak.
Space magic whisked us right in front of our house, and a moment later, Olie and Edie appeared. Their confusion was palpable as they found themselves in the middle of the street. Their eyes fell upon the house, and for the first time, I noticed the eerie resemblance between the two; both were strikingly pale and staring at the gate in utter disbelief.
"What is this place?" Olie demanded suspiciously.
Edie looked as if he feared that a horde of mountain trolls might burst through the gate at any moment.
"What do you think?" I asked absently. "My home."
Olie and Edie exchanged glances, contemplating an immediate retreat, but I ignored them and headed for the gate. I lazily opened it and turned to face them.
"Are you coming?"
Reluctantly, they followed. As a good host, I escorted them to the door and reassured them that they had nothing to worry about; the defenses would not tear them apart because I had let them in. Just to prove what a kind-hearted monster I am, I added that next time they should teleport to the street and I'd come out to get them.
"Where have you been?" Rolo stormed out of the kitchen, stopping abruptly when he saw the mages behind me. "I've been wai..."
"What are they doing here?" Rolo demanded.
"What is he doing here?" Olie echoed.
"Oh, you know each other," I said with a smile.
"That miserable cat bastard tried to rob me!" Olie shouted, pointing furiously at Rolo.
Rolo's lips curled into a mocking grin. Olie glared at him with a look of intense hostility but only succeeded in taking offense himself.
"I refuse to help him," Olie declared, crossing his arms.
"Very well," I nodded. "I will teach Rolo."
Rolo's mocking smile froze on his lips.
"Hello," Mose greeted as he stepped out of the kitchen with a pleasant smile.
"Hi," Alex said as well.
Before things became too awkward, I ushered everyone toward the courtyard.
"Right, time to get to work," I said. "Mose, you're with Edie and Olie. Alex, you go with Mazen."
Alex shot me a cutting look, clearly displeased about being paired with the darkest mage among us. Mazen followed my instructions without complaint, despite the discomfort of dealing with the most irritating monster present. I would have grinned in satisfaction, but I feared that if I did, both the dark mage and the wolf might try to wring my neck. So, I merely took amusement in their discomfort.
Rolo approached me with an unmistakable lack of enthusiasm. For a moment, I wondered if Jelal was indeed a soft-hearted mage. Even without revealing his plans, Jelal had made me aware of my friend's weaknesses. I smiled and broke through Rolo's defenses without warning. He collapsed with a small squeak, clutching his head with both hands as if hoping to alleviate the pain.
Olie covered his mouth, Edie stared at me with a mix of fear and confusion, but Mazen simply gave me a blank look.
"Spare them not," I ordered. "Neither will the enemy."
Rolo got to his feet, hissing expletives, and looked at me with a glare as if he wanted to rip my heart out. My smile only fueled his anger.
"If you have an objection, you can voice it now."
The kid growled something incomprehensible about my ancestors.
"No objections?" I asked softly. "Fine."
In the next moment, Rolo was clutching his head again, growling with hostility. He didn't cry out or collapse immediately, but he tried to keep me out, only managing to give himself a headache. I broke through his defenses as easily as if they were made of paper.
Rolo was pushed hard to the ground, and my ears filled with the cruel giggles of tiny children. The kid looked utterly miserable, huddled on the cold concrete. I watched in silence as they emptied the contents of his bag onto the floor and drenched him and his belongings in his own bottle of orange juice. Oh, so that's why Rolo hates orange juice. Since Rolo's miserable school life held little interest for me, I let the memory dissolve into nothingness in my grasp.
When I opened my eyes again, Rolo was crouched in a similar position on the grass. He looked up at me with a blazing gaze and jumped up.
"You had no right, Shaytan!" he hissed.
"Will you say the same to your enemies?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "Mr. Dark Mage, you have no right to do this. Please get out of my mind, if you will."
Rolo's anger intensified, and he seemed on the verge of actually trying to claw my eyes out.
"I will continue until you are able to expel me from your consciousness," I declared, and without hesitation, I stormed Rolo's defenses again.
The scene shifted to a small child in bed, clutching his pillow and crying silently. The door creaked open, but Rolo showed no sign of noticing. He heard it, but was too absorbed in his own misery to see who had entered. He felt the blanket's weight shift beside him.
"Roli," began a strange, almost static voice, "Roli, what's wrong? You haven't gotten out of bed all day."
It was then that I realized Rolo no longer remembered his parents' voices, and for some reason, that realization made me feel a little sick.
Rolo was sniffling and stubbornly silent. The man had no choice but to tickle him. Rolo tried to fight it, but the nimble fingers relentlessly danced down his sides, eliciting peals of laughter. The boy's high-pitched giggles were accompanied by a low, slow chuckle.
"Daddy, Daddy," the boy cried, "I can't! Please!"
Finally, the man had mercy on him, and Rolo fell back on the pillow, looking as exhausted as if he had run a marathon. As the laughter subsided, the sorrow crept back into his heart.
"What's wrong, son?" the man murmured, ruffling Rolo's hair.
Rolo's large green eyes were fixed on his father, and my heart sank. His gaze seemed so naive and innocent, devoid of the dark shadows of a painful past—as if I were watching a completely different person. If his family hadn't been hunted down, would Rolo have remained so innocent?
"When do you think I'll grow up, Daddy?" the little kid asked, his eyes filled with a childlike hope that Rolo, despite his youth, had been lacking.
The man laughed heartily. "Are they teasing you about your height again?"
Ah, some things never change.
Rolo nodded shyly.
"Believe me, you'll soon be taller than me!" the man grinned. "You just have to be patient."
Rolo nodded vigorously, smiling slightly as the man ruffled his hair with his large hands.
"Come on," the boy's father said, standing up. "Let's go. Mum's cooked a special dinner."
With an energetic leap, Rolo bounded up beside the man.
"Why? What are we celebrating?" he asked curiously.
"Your brother has found himself a master!" the man announced proudly, and Rolo pursed his lips in what I think was his first familiar gesture to me. The shifters then moved toward the kitchen, where soft music and the sound of cheerful conversation could be heard.
I let the memory slip from my grasp and glanced at Rolo, who looked nothing like his happy childhood self. As he came to, he reached into my shirt and fixed me with a murderous gaze. I could see that he was on the verge of tears, his eyes reddening from holding them back. For a moment, we stood staring at each other.
I gently pried Rolo's fingers off my shirt and nodded to the others.
"Right, well done," I praised them. "Alex, go make everyone some cocoa! Two for the others, but four spoons for Rolo."
My instructions prompted the others to slowly head toward the living room. Rolo was the only one who stayed put, grabbing my shirt to stop me. I raised an eyebrow without speaking. What, an extra spoonful of cocoa isn't enough to atone?
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
"To the living room," I replied, and started to leave, but the brat refused to let go.
"It's not over yet..."
"Haven't you suffered enough for one day?" I interjected.
The boy's gaze grew even sharper as if he wanted to silently accuse me of causing all this. Yes, it's my fault—I admit it. But come on, my cocoa's getting cold.
"Get some rest first, okay?" I said instead, placing my hand gently on top of his head. "If we continue, I'll leave scars on your consciousness that will be hard to heal..."
Rolo swatted my hand away with a rough movement. In the end, he said nothing and just walked past me. I didn't mind; I had achieved my goal. That evening, we didn't speak to each other, simply sipping our half-cold cocoa in silence.
I sat back in my chair, casually scrolling through my fan page, and browsed the latest memes. The new updates were hilarious.
Rolo slumped in the sofa, his head hanging low, eyes glued to his phone clearly killing zombies. The usual spark in his eyes was dimmed. He let out a dramatic sigh, clearly sulking.
Alex plopped down beside Rolo, nudging him with his elbow.
"Hey, buddy? You look like someone stole your last piece of candy," Alex said, half-smirking.
Rolo didn't respond at first. Instead, he mumbled something unintelligible, then sighed again for effect, his mood clearly not improving.
"Come on, talk to me," Alex said, leaning in closer. "It's not like you to brood like this."
Rolo finally lifted his head, but he only stared at the wall, eyes still lacking their usual gleam. "Just leave me alone, 'kay?"
Alex slumped further into the sofa, defeated. I returned my attention to my phone and clicked on one of the new memes:
'When you realize that the Hueless King doesn't need to negotiate, he just tells you what's going to happen.'
The image of me standing tall with my usual intense aura, watching as the mages faltered before me.
Another one:
'The Hueless King: "I don't need to make an offer. I already am the offer."'
A smug image of me standing in front of the mages.
'The Hueless King to the mages: "Is that the best you've got? How cute."'
A close-up of my mask, while the mages struggled behind me.
'When you're trying to negotiate but your opponent's aura says "Nope."'
A dramatic shot of me standing still as the mages around me visibly shrank under my presence.
I paused on one final meme:
'The Hueless King: "Your clans can keep their freedom."
Mages: "Is that supposed to be an offer?"
The Hueless King: "It's a threat, actually."'
The image of me with my mask on, the mages wide-eyed and shaking, captured perfectly.
It was funny, sure. But my enemies were out there, lurking. If they saw this, they'd start connecting dots. They'd realize my moves before I made them. These memes, while harmless to most, were offering too much information to the wrong people.
With a sigh, I typed out the message to Ábel:
[Hey Ábel, I really need you to pause the fan page for now.]
The phone buzzed almost immediately. It was Ábel. I could already imagine the pout on his face.
Nearly-Nailed-It Ábel: [But Shay, the fans are loving it! It's growing!😟]
[I know you've put a lot of effort into it, but I can't risk anything jeopardizing my plans, especially with the mages. Let's put a pin in it until after the battle.]
A few seconds passed before Ábel replied.
Nearly-Nailed-It Ábel: [Oh.]
Nearly-Nailed-It Ábel: [Okay... I get it, Shay. I don't want to mess anything up for you. I'll wait until after the battle.]
[Thanks, buddy]
Nearly-Nailed-It Ábel: [😊🐶]
What is that dog emoji supposed to mean? After putting my phone down, I leaned back in my chair.