The walk back home was atrocious, my body was sore from all the running. My mind was still fuzzy torn between my inner voice screaming at me. Telling me to survive no matter what, and my dads dying face, the words he said before leaving for war. His ideals.
Although for some reason, when I reached the front gate of the slums I was filled with new found confidence. As if I owned the place. My mind became a lot clearer. Seeing the ones who tortured me made me realise.
If they didn't need morals then why do I?
Usually I'd keep my head down while walking down the streets so as to avoid anyone recognising me, but today I held my head high up. As if inviting anyone who wanted to challenge me.
"What's wrong with that brat? Did he forget what his father did?" They'd whisper.
When I reached the crossroad at the centre of the slums, Dorian's group showed up. Cracking their knuckles, as if trying to scare me.
He! Foolish.
"You are lucky Dorian didn't find you." The biggest guy in the group spoke out. He had more fat that muscles, his skin drooping from his bones.
How much does one, even need to eat to get like that?
"Oh, but I did meet him." I smiled, slow and deliberate. "He was very angry—fuming with it, really"
"Liar." The one with the glasses pushed his way forward, his voice cracking. "Dorian would never let you live."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "And that's why he didn't."
Why was I even scared of them? No. That's not right. I was never scared of them. The one who I was truly terrified of was Dorian. The same Dorian who I just killed.
"Well, he wasn't planning to let me go unscathed, but alas in this world those who try to kill others must be prepared to get killed." I replied.
The group, was caught off guard but quickly recouped, laughing. Their faces screaming that they didn't believe me.
"Ho? And who killed him huh? You? That's so god damn funny." The third guy spoke out.
I leaned in closer. "Wanna see how he died?" My voice low, almost like a whisper.
Closing my eyes, I gathered the essence. Purple light pooled in my hands, a heatless fire that tingled against my skin. Dorian's face filled my mind—bloodied, broken. His screams echoed in my head, and for a moment, I almost smiled.
"Hehehehe" the fools laugh ringed in my ears. Which soon turned to screams. The screams of the four dogs in front of me. Pacing around senselessly, heck the big guy even fell to the ground.
"STOP IT. WHERE AM I? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS." They screamed, as the other gods formed a circle around us. Observing them. I could almost hear their thoughts saying,
have they gone mad?
The guy with the glasses, stumbled on top of the pig like fatty. Both of them crashing down. One of them ran straight into a hot oil inside of a pan, burning his face.
"Where did your brave faces go huh? That all you got?" I laughed.
After a few seconds, they stopped screaming, through their panic and pain they managed to lower their heads to the ground, grovelling in front of my feet.
Ahh! So this is what it feels like?
You were right fool, true power really is fear.
After the little spectacle I pulled yesterday none of the low gods dared to look me in the eyes. They made way every time I crossed the streets. Dorian's servants who used to bully me, were now fanning me. Massaging my feet. Heck I even made that fatty into my footrest.
I had never had this much to eat in over two damn years. I never had this much peace in the two damn years I was here. Heck it feels even better than when I was at the estate.
"Fuck it's true. Power earned through one's own hand does taste way better than what is handed by fate." I said while chowing down on some berries.
Time does pass quick when you are living a good life. For me three days were over in the blink of an eye. Rumours of Dorian's death had spread all the way across to the upper level of the god plane.
Back then I didn't realise it, but at the end of the day Dorian was still the eldest son of one of the most affluent merchant. Of course he wasn't going to take it lightly.
By the crack of the daylight the next day, the slums were surrounded. Men in white armour, daunting with lances. The 'Orford' crest, symbolised by two horsemen holding lances, on their chest.
"Quick run, it's the Orford family." One of the lackeys whispered, shaking the others from their sleep.
"SHUT UP!" I shouted, half asleep.
"What is it you fucker?" I yawned, rubbing my eyes.
"Your time is over Cairith."
The idiots were all standing up by then, their faces lit up with smirks. They were protesting? That's hilarious. I wonder what new found power they gained in just three days.
"The Orford family's special corps are here." They said walking out of the front door.
"Orford fam—" I jolted awake as soon as I remembered the name. That name alone carried a lot of weight, their bravado was famous everywhere in the god plane. Revered to be the strongest personal army any merchant in the plane had.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed, "the only reason for the Orford family corps to be here in this filth would be if they were ordered by the head, but why would he—"
"Ahh fuck, fuck, fuuckkk" I groaned, grabbing my clothes.
"Of course they were gonna come. Exiled or not Dorian still was the eldest son of the Orford." I dressed up quick, rushing out of the shack.
The sunlight hit me like a hammer, blinding and sharp. I squinted, my heart sinking as my vision cleared. White. A sea of white. Row after row of soldiers surrounded the shack, their lances gleaming like teeth in a predator's maw. My breath hitched as I tried to count, but it was impossible—there were too many. Their every move in complete unison. As if an orchestra.
My legs felt weak, my breath came in shallow gasps. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but there was nowhere to go. They had me surrounded, like hunters closing in on a wounded beast.
I bogged my head around, looking for the smallest opportunities to escape. None.
Can I outwit them? Impossible. They probably know my name. Heck even my face if I'm unlucky.
Is fighting my only option? Hell no! That would be suicide.
Panic began to settle in. Just a few hours ago I was the king, everyone grovelled at my feet and now I am going back to being a nobody. Were my good days seriously gonna end in a mere three days?
That's when the world stopped moving. The birds stuck mid flight. I wasn't even surprised these days. The fool emerged from the shadows of one of the soldiers, coiling around him like a snake. Pretending to kiss him.
"To hell with your jokes Fool." I lashed out.
"You know that I am in a bind. If you have a way to escape say it or leave."
He uncoiled himself, disappearing behind the White Sea of armour.
"Now, don't be like that little godling." His voice echoed from inside the shack.
I went back in. He was slouching on one of the wooden chairs, his long skinny feet on the table. As he pretended to file his nails.
"You are trapped. No way to escape. Heck even with my powers, killing them all would be difficult." He spoke.
"Came here to talk smack?" I frowned.
"No. Not this time. After all if you were to die. So would I."
I smirked a little. He had a plan. I was gonna survive.
"Well, having said that. Our survival ultimately depends on what you want to do. We can fight but at your current strength. Survival is next to impossible. We can run, but that would go directly against your dad's so called ideals. Heck it would still be difficult as hell."
"So tell me little godling." He leaned in closer, his voice low as a whisper. A smirk tugging at his cheeks.
"What do you want to do."
My smile returned back to my face.
"What do I want to do?" For some reason his mere presence would fill me with confidence. The feeling that no matter how much I messed up. He would save me. The feeling that he was the only person in this world whom I could trust with my back.
"To run or to fight. That's the choice I have right?" I laughed.
"Why not do both."
His mismatched eyes gleamed with excitement, his weird grin formed, splitting his face in two.
"We really are alike aren't we?" He whispered.
"Show them true fear, Cairith."