Crown Prince Todokoro Ayane
The Godai Kingdom's heat burns through my skin the moment we cross the threshold of the mountains of our valley. There is a viscous dryness to the air that makes the illusions of oases—that are as far off as the eye can see—nearly impossible to believe. But the liquidity of the way the water ripples in the distance, the way the dust clouds appear to be mottling moisture above it, only make the illusion stronger.
"Godai's walls are in sight ," Tobio tells my uncle from the front of the carriage, "We shall reach before sunset."
"Thank you, Sir Iida," my uncle, the king, hums while wiping the back of his hand on his forehead. "Though, I wish I heeded your warning of the sweltering heat."
I smile, handing a spare handkerchief from my handbag. "I only said this based on Uncle Shohei's accounts of his visit to the land."
The king forces a smile that does not reach his eyes. "My adventurous little brother left quite the collection of his tales."
"I'd rather call them vignettes of his travels. They are awfully poetic."
We finally reach the walls made of ivory limestone that hide the great Godai Kingdom's Palace. The iron gates are tall as Hiyokuna Kingdom's tallest tower, the border coated in gilded designs of Godai's rich culture that showcases their reverence for flames.
Guards in cotton clothing and iron breastplates greet us with bronze spears and icy cold glares, their words little and their service quick. I only count to three before the gates grate themselves open to reveal color bursting from within.
Though auburn, as deep as the sunset and as bright as aloe blooms, is their country's color, aqua blue battles to be a close second. Where the drapes look like living flames coating every alley of the main road, cerulean shines from the gems that are imbed in the walls and the keystones of the decorative arches. Gold shimmers from not only the locals but from every door they pass, the symbol of the eternal flame showcased everywhere.
The crowd that welcomes us throws marigold petals toward our carriage, and the children run with their country's flag, jeering and trying to outrun our party. But the most concerning thing is how the folk sing ballads of how the Godai Empire is soon to be a dream realized.
"Do not heed their rhymes," my uncle says with a frown, "They assume we have come for a royal familial alliance."
"For the Godai Kingdom, a treaty and a royal alliance are all the same." I say curtly.
"As that may be, I won't hand my kingdom's heir over a lumpsum of gold and a false promise of protection," he reassures with a hand on mine, "The mountains are protection enough."
"What if they promise to find the helm?" I ask in a whisper, "What would you do then?"
"That is a promise they cannot fulfill. Only a Yamasaki can recover the helm from its hiding place, and only a Yamasaki can wield its power," he sighs, his heavy crown tilting forward and pressing down his
dark curls, "My foolish brother may have been wise to steal and make it disappear. The power alone would have tempted King Enjiro to overtake our kingdom much sooner."
Before I can let him know that I still find this arrangement suspicious, our carriage halts at the castle grounds' gates, the carriage door swings open and a man with crimson wings greets us.
"Your Majesty King Kento Yamasaki," he bows his head while helping my uncle down. and then he meets my gaze with an offer of his hand, "Your Highness. I am Vizier Takao and will guide you here at Godai. The Illustrious King Enjiro awaits."
"We are still quite ways from the throne room," he adds, using his mystic to raise a platform with his feathers, "This will make the journey easier."
There is intrigue in my uncle's expression and caution in Tobio's. I share Tobio's sentiment.
My uncle steps on it first, then Tobio, who gives me a hand on the platform. Vizier Takao smiles as he uses more of his feathers to hold our feet down to the marble floor.
Then we are off, the gardens in full bloom zipping past us in a soft blur. Wind caresses my hair, making my dress flow gently. I am glad my jewels make my dress heavy so that it does not whip carelessly.
"Is there any caution we must exercise before greeting King Enjiro?" I ask.
Vizier Takao smiles easily, his hawk-like eyes crinkling in earnest. "His Majesty has changed aplenty over the years. Practicing caution is a thing of the past and ignorance is easily forgiven, worry not."
"That is well," my uncle says with a pleased hum.
"And of his tradition with familial alliances for other kingdoms to bend the knee?"
"Your Highness," Tobio warns with a hiss.
I find a glimpse of my uncle's unapproving glare.
However, Vizier Takao simply laughs, answering only with his eyes. Eyes filled with pity.
We reach the doors of the ivory castle, which open with an orange mystic just moments before we reach it. For an empire that spouts anti-mystic rhetoric, the castle brims with twice the mystic energy Haniyasu could ever hope to have even with the helm in its lands.
"Welcome to Gilded Palace of Godai," Vizier Takao says with pompous grandeur, slowing the platform to let us drink in the splendor.
Gold coats the walls, crimson and turquoise gems are embedded within it, the ivory of limestone only visible on the high ceiling that is carved in with delicate curled designs. We pass countless aureate gates and ornate halls that seem to be aflame with color. After two bends, we reach a set of obsidian metal gates that reach the ceiling, orange mystic seemingly coating in its entirety.
The platform halts and descends with grace. An attendant with a white silk gown and green flaming hair greets us with a bow.
"I shall announce your arrival," she says to Vizier Takao before opening a hidden door to enter what must be the throne room.
Moments later the orange mystic glows brighter, and burns the gates, turning it from ashen to gold. And then they grate open, the sound echoing against the walls.
We walk behind Vizier Takao, and Tobio is behind us.
"The Magnanimous King Kentaro Yamasaki of Haniyasu and Crown Princess Ayane Yamasaki," the green haired attendant from before announces.
King Enjiro lazes on his throne made of solid gold carved into fire that accentuate the auburn flames that leave the shoulders of his navy velvet cape continuously.
By his left hand, a gangly man leans lazily on his right leg wearing a white suit with turquoise flames expelling off of the gold ornaments on his arms. He smiles easily, his head slouched with what most consider playful mischief. His bright turquoise eyes, however, show more of a machiavellian intent.
I must be wary of him.
On the king's right hand, a shorter, possibly younger man stands ramrod straight in his royal blue suit, frost coating the silver cuff on his right side and auburn flames expelling from his left golden cuff. Though what stands out the most is the shorter man's hair split down the middle, the right side matching the other man standing, and the left side a bright red to match King Enjiro's hair.
"Step forward," King Enjiro's voice booms in the throne room.
My uncle takes a confident stride, his chin tilted up. I cannot see his expression but suddenly King Enjiro steps down from his throne, walks down the steps and stops two steps away from my uncle.
And then, the least expected thing happens. His face cracks into a grin as he pulls my uncle in for an embrace. One my uncle takes with familiarity I had no idea they shared.
"Welcome, old friend," King Enjiro says with a chuckle, "It is good to see you after so many seasons."
"Likewise," my uncle says, "Allow me to introduce my niece," he peers over his shoulder and meets my gaze, "Ayane."
I step forward with my eyes on the marble floor, preparing for another curtsy. However, King Enjiro's scalding grip on my shoulder stops me.
"Look up, Princess." He says.
I hesitantly look up, afraid I'll be burned alive if I disobey. I've heard the stories of how he's killed subjects and guests at the smallest offense. Though, the stories are hard to believe with the smile he greets me with.
"You are quite the beauty. Much like your mother."
"My mother?" I ask with little decorum, "You knew here?"
His laugh is thick and the flames on his shoulders grow larger. "Yes, I did. She studied in my father's court as a ward running from an arranged marriage in her kingdom."
My eyes widen, my breath stalling in my chest. "She's not from Daikokotsu?"
"She is. My father eventually returned her back and her parents agreed to call off the betrothal. Though, she ended up falling for him either way."
I am too stunned to ask why she ran from my father's proposal. After witnessing my uncle's palor, I decided to cut the exchange with a quiet nod.
The king seems to move on from the topic of my mother quite quickly, gesturing to the two men still standing on either side of his throne. They walk together, the taller man sauntering and the shorter confidently striding.
"My sons," King Enjiro says with pride, "My eldest, Prince Touka Todokoro," he points to the white haired, taller prince in stark pearl white, "And my youngest, Prince Shoyo Todokoro." he nods his head to the shorter man in cool river blue with his peppermint candy hair.
"Still have not declared an heir, Enjiro?" I am still flabbergasted at the casual exchange they share.
King Enjiro booms another laugh, "My father chose me, his middle son, as his successor. And I found that I should give all my sons an equal chance to claim the throne."
I recall that King Enjiro had to fight his eldest brother, executing him for treason when he attempted to steal the crown from him. I always thought that he killed him for his own power. From how the empire has expanded, it seems he may be telling the truth.
Though trusting a man who cruelly killed his own kin is a fool's trait.
"Why don't you two spend some time with Princess Yamasaki in the gardens?" My uncle asks the brothers.
I know that the question is but a nudge for privacy.
King Enjiro agrees with a nod of his head and a glare sent to the elder prince. "I expect you to treat her with utmost respect."
I curtsy one last time to the kings before turning to meet the younger prince's kinder gaze. "Shall we?"
Prince Shoyo purses his lips, nodding his head without a word. Behind me Prince Touka snorts, the heat of his flames so close it feels as though they'd burn my dress.
The walk through the castle is long, the heated drafts making sweat bead at my nape and temple. When we reach outside, there is a sudden frigid chill that emanates from the right.
"How many times has father scolded you for using your right side carelessly, Sho?" Prince Touka taunts, flames comically growing as he peels his lips into a dangerous grin. His voice sounds so much younger than he looks, too relaxed.
"She's not used to Godai's swelter," Prince Shoyo's voice closer resembles King Enjiro's timbre between the brothers, slightly softer and less gritty, but still deep and commanding all the same. "I hope the frost wasn't too overwhelming," it takes me a moment to realize he is speaking to me.
"Oh no, it was a pleasant change," I quickly say, "I appreciate the kind gesture."
Prince Touka scoffs, stomping ahead and turning around while continuing walking backwards, arms out like wings. "Already trying to gain favor for an alliance, little brother?"
"Not every action has an ulterior motive," Prince Shoyo rebuttals.
"Faux kindness does," Prince Touka insists, "Like how our stupid brother fell for the dastard girl's lies."
I watch their exchange with caution. Their flames have been growing steadily with every statement, their expressions resembling closer to their father with every passing moment.
Prince Shoyo sighs, expelling a cold breath, "There is no crime in falling in love Touka-nii."
My breath stills. There is a third brother? A middle son like King Enjiro?
"You must be curious," Prince Touka regards me, now walking straight forward, back towards us as we take a bend towards the greenhouse filled with colors of various flowers, "Our brother, the former Prince Natsu Todokoro, revoked his title to live a peasant's life."
"A peasant's life is better than in this palace," Prince Shoyo murmurs low enough for me to hear and not for Prince Touka to catch.
I do not dare give my opinion on the matter. I always knew marrying would be less about my choice and more about strengthening my kingdom. So the sentiment of falling in love, giving up my family's legacy for a simple life is something I never entertained.
Nonetheless, if I ever had to face the struggles these princes had to fathom under their father's rule, I'd most likely think similarly.
We finally reach the doors of the greenhouse, the glass marred with translucent designs carved into the glass. Inside, the perfume of countless foliage overwhelms me, making my head spin. I gather my bearings, swallowing and trying not to be too mesmerized by the stunning view of crimsons, magentas, golds, blues, and indigos meshed in viridian.
In the heart of the greenhouse, a gazebo with vines curling up the pillars is surrounded by three personnel. A teapot and a set of teacups sit on the trolley beside the table meant for four guests.
Surprisingly, its Prince Touka who pulls out a chair for me per their etiquette, then sits next to me. Prince Shoyo sits on my other side, using his left hand to check the temperature of the tea. It takes another few moments for us to settle and have the butler bring out a selection of preferred snacks, including my favorite cookies imported from Haniyasu.
As I nibble on the square edge, Prince Shoyo sips his tea, Prince Touka clears his throat, quickly excusing himself with a quiet disposition I did not think him capable of.
"Apologies for my brother's eccentricities," Prince Shoyo says as he chills his tea. "He does not mean anything terrible by his opinions. He's simply influenced by my father's example a little too much."
"That is understandable. Anyone seeking to rule a kingdom would look to the previous monarch as an example."
"I doubt Haniyasu's politics are as dreary as Godai's. Not with our gruesome history."
I understand his contention, hence, I do not take it to heart. However, I do not know whether bloody politics is worse or the loss of a beloved monarch leading for a kingdom to fall into the hands of an incompetent one is.
"I sympathize with your situation. Regardless of the unfortunate climate of Godai's royal court, these lands are quite a sight for residing in such infertile soil."
Prince Shoyo huffs a breath, "The innocent blood spilled makes the crown all the heavier. I do not wish to rule over so much pain."
I close my eyes and take a sip. This prince is not as tactful as his older brother. He lacks restraint and is not prideful of his heritage. That may be his downfall. Or it may be his salvation.
"Why are you still holding the competition against Prince Touka?"
"Because if he rules Godai, the entire continent will be engulfed in his flames."
I keep my tea cup on its plate and on the table, sighing while finally meeting his eyes. They are a storm of conflicted gray and blazing turquoise passion of conviction.
"Your plight is admirable," I whisper, keeping my gaze and voicing my sincerity. I finally understand why Prince Touka was so defensive whenever Prince Shoyo showed the slightest act of kindness. "If you ever need a hand, I'll gladly support your cause."
Prince Shoyo's eyes widen as if shocked by lightning, "You- Are you suggesting an alliance?" "If you wish to label with that term, then yes."
"I was not expecting anything of the sort."
I smile, "Are you denying my kindness?"
For the first time, I see something other than pain and reservations flicker across his features. He relaxes, his eyes crinkling as he chuckles with a soft rumble.
"Perish the thought," he says, "Instead of an alliance, may we forge another relation?" "Which do you suggest?" I ask, ready to hear the obvious proposal on his lips. Marriage.
"Friendship."
My eyes widen and then an easy laugh escapes me. "You are filled with surprises, Prince Shoyo." "Please, as friends you should only call me Shoyo." "Then call me Ayane."
He shuffles something from his pocket, and tells me to bring out my hand.
"A symbol of our friendship," he announces as he reveals an icy blue ribbon that glows bright in his hand with residual mystical energy.
I observe it carefully, hesitant to take it in my hand. "Pardon my caution, but what are its properties?"
He smiles kindly, something wistful in the way he sighs as he thumbs the silky fabric. "It's a talisman of sorts. A totem if you will. Always keep it on your person, then the ice will never be your demise."
My eyes widen in recognition. The mystical prowess matches his right side. The side he inherited from his mother, the previously Okami Kingdom's princess.
"Is it not important to you?" "It is."
"Then how could I-"
"Because it is important, I want you to have it, Ayane." He takes my wrist and gingerly keeps the ribbon in my palm, covering my hand and curling my fingers to clutch on it.
The moment the ribbon touches my hand, the glow dims into a faint hue that is near unrecognizable. And while the ribbon is cold to touch, I feel the warmth of our blossoming friendship thaw the enmity I felt at Godai's gates.
"Thank you, Shoyo." I say, "I will keep it close till the day I die. I promise." ~~~
Ayumi
I wake up with a start. My limbs feel like jello and I feel bruises blooming on my legs and arms in the shapes of the chains that still coil around me. A deep cut on my side still bleeds onto my shirt, not bleeding quick enough for it to be life threatening enough to make me feel woozy.
My uncle was here a while ago, trying to squeeze out a forced agreement out of me. To join his side that is.
Who does he think he is!?
He's the man who killed my mom in broad daylight. Like I'd ever join the likes of him.
I shakily exhale, trying to find a way to wriggle out of my binds.
I look to the corners of the room, hoping I could find something to help.
My lungs seize in shock when I meet bright turquoise eyes in the corner where the door hinge meets the wall.
The man, taller than me, lankier too, is wearing a trench coat, and staples bind his skin at the seams between injured and healed patches. His hair is pitch black, blending in the shadow, but his eyes. They are too familiar. My head thumps.
He continues to stare and then smirks, "What were you dreaming about?" I glare. I refuse to answer.
"Not gonna talk huh?" He huffs, stepping into the dim light from the hallway. "You always were so... vainglorious."
I narrow my eyes at his word choice. "Are all villains pretentious, or is that just you?"
He laughs, a little deranged, a little playful. It is disconcerting. "I wasn't always a villain, you know. I had my own people I'd protect and lead."
"You abandoned them to join Shigaraki?"
He pulls his lips into a wide grin, the metal keeping his skin together stretching to show his molars. "No. That life I left behind was ages ago." He steps closer, his breath hot and in my face as he bends over. "Or should I say the life we left behind, Princess Ayane?"
"How-" I focus on his eyes, the deranged spark and how he tilts his head to the side. "You're a Todokoro." "The Todokoro you mean," He coos, "Your promised fiance."
First of all, ew.
Second of all. This creepy older guy? My fiance? He needs to check his head. Or get reported. Third of all, as Bakago would say: What. The. Fucking. Hell.
"Are you here for revenge?" I ask instead of showing any other sign of disgust.
He rolls his eyes. "First and foremost, you are a child, so stop looking at me like that. I may be an asshole but I'm not a pedophile." He leans back, crossing his arms and lifting two fingers with a flicker of blue flames. "Second, I don't really care much for what happened centuries ago. I've got my own goals in this life. But, I have to admit, I was not expecting to see you and that asshole of a hothead on the TV exactly as I saw you in my previous life."
It doesn't take me two seconds to realize he's talking about Katsuki and me. I wonder what the hell that must've been like. Seeing the visages of their past lives living in the present on the TV as opposed to in person.
But then a sudden stray thought comes to mind. A very stray and impossible thought that shouldn't even have crossed my mind.
But if this man is Touka Todokoro of the past, related to Shoyo Todokoro, who is to say he's not related to Shoto Todoroki.
Who is to say he's not a Todoroki himself?
So I blurt out the stupidest thing I could at that moment.
"Do you know Shoto?" I say in a hurry. "Are you related to him?"
The man's eyes become dangerous, and his flames dance on his hair.
It's safe to say he knows him alright.
Then he laughs maniacally in a way that makes me nervous, grates at my nerves, makes goosebumps go down my spine.
He wipes an imaginary tear and sighs while looking up at the ceiling, "The past has a funny way of repeating itself."
I swallow the lump in my throat, "What do you want?"
"From you? Nothing." His eyes betray his nonchalant tone with how they send dagger down at me and then smiles wide again, skin tugging and letting blood drip from between, "Though I wouldn't mind indulging my past life's desires just a little."
He steps closer, bending down and squatting on to his haunches.
"Stay away from me." I whisper, knowing that screaming won't help me anyway.
"Don't be hard. One burn on that gash won't kill you."
His hand goes to my side, and I try to fidget away from his reach, though all effort is in vain. His other hand holds me in place.
"Please, I don't-"
He stuffs a cloth in my mouth, mumbling how I don't want to bite my tongue off.
I feel the pain before I feel the heat. The skin melts and the blood evaporates. And I scream into the cloth in my mouth, deafening my heartbeat in my ears.