Barren, gray clouds remained suspended in the sky, obscuring almost all natural light that dared to permeate this "cover." Below it was an ocean of similar hue—raging and tyrannical in nature. The nearest ship, with a hull over twenty meters, couldn't shake off the instinct to rock and conflict with the waves' only desire: capsizing all it encountered.
The crew on board moved and shuffled like frantic, rabid dogs. Calloused, wrinkled hands moved in a flurry to stabilize the ship's internal functions. Gears were spun in ear-straining, screaming circles; metallic, rust-ridden pipes spout out viscous, ink-black smoke that seemed to engulf the internal chambers in a darkness akin to the night.
Outside, thunder called in the distance, barely making a murmur over the constant, almost ambient collisions of waves on the wooden ship. The ship's captain, a scrawny man with a thick, unkempt beard, was slumped in his quarters. Though his attention was mostly focused on the novella in his grip, his brown eyes shifted to the man at the wheel, directing the boat amidst the storm.
"How's it look out there?" His voice came out a low rumble, much like the thunder and waves.
The man at the wheel turned back, his face slightly pale in color. His hands began to tremble around the cylindrical shape of the wheel, making the captain immediately suspect he wasn't in a good enough emotional position to direct the ship through the storm.
"Take a nap or something; anything to get a break." The captain stood up, almost every joint in his body creaking audibly like unmaintained, neglected metal.
At this moment, the nearest circular window burst open, bringing with it a torrent of bitter, unwanted wind, and ice-cold rain. The older man let out a low groan as he moved to cover his face, taking slow, lethargic steps to the window and slamming it shut. After the room had once again fallen into silence, he let out a low sigh and sat back down in his seat.
"Caw, Caw!"
His head snapped to his left, immediately noticing the ink-black raven perched in the steering wheel, its marble-like eyes fixated on the storm outside. The raven's golden-colored feet wrapped around the grip of the steering wheel, and its wings spread wide as if it were about to fly through the window.
"Get outta here, y'blimy bastard!" The captain's body shot up with a vigor deeply contradictory to his age, snagging a hand around the midsection of the bird as he trotted over to the window. With a quick thrust, he burst open the captain's window and tossed the raven outside, back into the storm.
"Damn animals don't respect their place..."
The black bird recovered quickly though, regaining its equilibrium in a matter of moments to readjust to the weather and sea. Its wings spread wide as it began to sour with the winds, the natural currents amplifying its speed by a great margin. Its eyes darted to the ocean below, the desolate gray waves roared and toppled like chaos in liquidated form.
"Caw, Caw!" it let out more audible noises as an inscrutable figure appeared in the fog.
Its contours were sharp and jagged like a tree chopped down with an insufficient, rusty axe. As the fog eventually cleared, the shape came into view.
An island stood amidst the roaring waves, proud and defiant to natural instinct. There wasn't a tree in sight—or any indication that there had been land and naturalistic landmarks before colonization of this space. Soaked, cobblestone streets barely contained themselves under the heavy downpour, and everyone outside fled and scrambled to find cover.
What stood out most was the architectural marvel standing almost three-hundred feet in height. Charcoal in color, the countless towers and viewpoints were adorned with stone statues of gargoyles, nude women, ancient dragons, and other symbols of grandeur and prestige. The raven let out a final caw as it swooped low, its body only inches from the streets below.
It suddenly soured back up after reaching the tail-end of the market, flying up the side of the gothic, eccentric palace. It abruptly twisted its body, narrowly slivering through an open window, landing on the rock-hard floor of the palace with a wet plop that echoed off the walls and oriel ceiling. The entire throne room was dark-colored stone, with faint accents of orange marble and accents of fiery crimson.
A thin trail of black mist emanated from the raven until it engulfed it in its entirety. The mist quickly spread upwards like a pillar of artificial darkness. Within the mist the outline and contours of a human quickly surfaced. Though, the only thing properly segregating it from human identification were their fangs and pointed, elfin ears,
As the mist cleared, a figure came into clear view. He had bronze-colored skin, flashing crimson eyes alongside crimson hair and faded into black—combed neatly with a spiky edge. His clothing was mostly blood red and black, melting in with their traits and appearance in an almost seamless way. His sharp teeth were positioned between his tongue, which he clicked in surprise as he looked around.
For the most part, the throne room was empty.
"I'll throw a rebellion if he isn't true to his word. The Emperor said he'd be in this exact spot."
At this moment, a voice sounded from the corner of the room. "Sometimes one's personal agenda is held in higher favor than the most prestigious of allies."
She was a woman of above-average height, long brown hair that cascaded past her shoulders, freckles, and emerald eyes. She was clad in a long brown coat and white underdress that exposed quite a significant portion of her clavicle. The bells on her boots jingled as she approached the crimson-haired man, scoffing.
"Though, quite contradictory coming from the daughter of the second most powerful figure in the kingdom." She huffed, smiling.
"Does your father neglect you perhaps? Being the confidant of the emperor himself means his schedule is packed more than the grain mills." He looked up at her, his sharp teeth bearing a small, seductive smirk.
"Neglect? I'd consider that statement blasphemous. My father may be immensely busy, but that doesn't mean he's unable to sunder his daily life for a young adult like me. He knows I "reek" with self proclaimed independence."
"Did he say that? Sounds awfully... contradictory, that wordplay..."
The woman smirked, removing her hands from the pocket of her coat.
"No, Emperor Katsuki said so. My father would say I "blossom" with it."
At this moment, illusory spheres of energy condensed in her palm, taking the form of an illusory white and green flower. She raised her hands to her nose and sniffed it, allowing the radiant, graceful scent to dissipate into the pungent, morbid atmosphere. She then reached into her locks, tucking the flower within them.
"If he didn't dedicate any time to me, how could I have reached Order 5 with his help?"
"Ahh, I see. I must say, I don't think history books would like to document the first Angel of the Vitality pathway as Hazel Midoriya," He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his silk trousers, his lips twitching faintly. "Maybe your fathers surname isn't the best for you."
"And yours is? I can't remember the last time Cavendish fitted my name. I'd say the deities above hated you, or your bloodline to give you such a rash last name."
Hearing Hazel's statement, he couldn't help but chuckle darkly. "Kael Cavendish is a name with far more public recognition than yours, dear. If I remember correctly, the only time you're sent out of the castle is either to fulfill the position of an errand girl or to calm down a nation-wide fight."
"My father holds me in high regard, and high prestige. I don't see the issue with it."
Kael extended his left hand, cupping Hazel's cheek gently. He leaned in close, his breath hot on her nose.
"Or he's worried about the bastards and cheaters. After all, the average street-whore who'd do it for a couple bronze coins would slither away and perish if they caught sight of you."
"Me, a prostitute? I'd say you're far out of your game to assume that." Hazel's emerald eyes flickered as she smiled, showing off her perfectly shining teeth.
"A smile like mine could cast out demons..."
At this moment the door opened, and a figure walked in. His hair was blonde and spiky, giving anyone without context the assumption that it could cut metal like a loaf of bread. His eyes were much like Kael's, crimson and sharp like the edge of a finely tended sword. Metallic, guttural sounds of metal echoed through the throne room as he made his way to the center, meeting the two with an assertive gaze.
"I've told you too many times, no love-making in my throne room!"
Kael turned to face Emperor Katsuki, smirking. "We weren't even undressed yet."
"Additionally..." He tucked his gloved hands back into his pocket, scoffing lightly. "My family has been your greatest asset for countless generations. I'm sure you'd develop such credibility not to assume vulgar stuff happens when you look away."
Kael approached the emperor, meeting him at eye-level. "Unless the intelligence of our emperor has been polluted by mindless fighting."
Emperor Katsuki's eyes met Kael's and he let out a low, seemingly annoyed growl. The man, clad in armor, turned away, making his way to his throne. The sound of him sitting down echoed loudly through the mottled chamber, causing everyone to flinch.
"I'm genuinely curious, your voyage to Seraphis Kingdom must have been ...exciting."
Kael nodded his head, bowing with a hint of solemnity. "Yes. Their agricultural production has seemingly spiked, even amidst these awful winter months."
"As expected." Emperor Katsuki turned to the window, his left eye, covered with a ghoulish scar, closed shut.
After a few moments, his eyes opened, and he looked towards Kael. "Walk with me. I'd like to hear more about Seraphis."
Hearing the emperor's invitation, Kael's body immediately adjusted. His posture sharpened by a degree, allowing him to appear more in-the-moment. He smiled softly as he approached the throne, gazing at Emperor Katsuki.
"Of course."
Emperor Katsuki remained in his seat, his trademark scowl embedded on his face. His armor was a roadmap of scars, damage, chipped plating. The noticeable cut on his left eye had long dried up, no longer leaking any blood. With a slow, deliberate sigh, he finally stood up and stretched his arms over his head until a joint or two popped.
"Old age? Kael leaned down, a playful yet subtly instigating smirk plastering his face.
"I hope not. I'm only five-hundred years old." Emperor Katsuki made his way to a set of doors on the side of the throne room, turning back to Kael.
...
As the duo walked, the wall lamps perched on either end of the hallway lit up, revealing countless photos. Some showed him—a lot younger than he was currently. In some he smiled, in others he bore a more solemn expression. As Kael walked, he noticed more and more details unravel then longer he gazed at the photographs and paintings.
Suddenly, the emperor's sharp voice permeated the dusty, refined air of the palace hallway. "So their grain production has skyrocketed even during the winter?"
Kael nodded, walking slowly. Even whilst addressing the emperor, his gaze remained on the photos—enraptured by the drawn memories and projections.
"I can confirm that through the ambassador's letter. Ambassador Charles made sure to highlight their sheer quantity of carrots, joking it was for some sort of thematic event or festival."
The emperor only sneered, his fists curling and uncurling. "I wouldn't be surprised if Seraphis Kingdom does have something like that. They're already unorthodox in many ways."
"Are you just envious they technologically advanced faster than this place? I haven't seen a blimp here in what seems like epochs." Kael teased, catching up to the emperor.
Emperor Katsuki suddenly froze in his tracks, his fists clenching slightly. He turned around to face Kael, his expression twitching. "My mother never succumbed to blind rage over something as trivial as technology..."
He turned back around, facing a painting on the wall. A woman with blonde hair like his own, and matching crimson eyes, sat down in a wooden chair as she had her figure painted. She wasn't smiling, bearing a signature solemn expression.
"Technology is the essence of vulnerability. I'm sure if I went to Seraphis Kingdom, I could take down the entire place with one hand."
"But would your mother have done that?" Kael clasped his hands behind his back, walking beside the emperor and freezing before the portrait.
Emperor Katsuki remained silent, his gaze fixated on the portrait. For a few moments, he was hesitant to speak. Something within his eyes told Kael a story lasting centuries.
"That's not important, we can continue this discussion in my quarters."