"It's a blood"
"Your blood is sweet"
She added, Still trying to lick the wound she instill. He shrugged it of, eyes focused on the band of stifled trees. A few patrols moved randomly, goes to one end to the other. Some bought food, others in complete armor with weapons, chatting and laughing like nothing would happen tomorrow.
Yes, Tomorrow
He can't wait for tomorrow
He can't wait to slaughter them, the humans, his enemies
"I want to kill them all"
"Love... you have no idea how HOT...can you be"
Violet remark, tongue pinched by the sweetness of his blood. Its was her anchor, her drugs, her every single thing. Her most intimate connection with him. She spot everything, his sharp blood red pupil with sclera white as snow, that smooth pointed jaw that just begged for her to touch, how serious his face as if trying his best to draw their entire life. EVERYTHING. And the good thing, all of this...was hers. Like HE is HERS, and SHE is HIS.
Yet, it's not enough
She needed more
"About tomorrow...."
Violet opened her mouth. Her ears twitched, thirst of his voice.
"We do according to plan"
"Hmm...Aw...You are getting better love"
"What ?"
He cut, neck tilted a few inches back
"At hiding, i remember that invitation you almost send me ?"
"Hmm ?"
His eyebrow raised, a memory washed his mind.
It was back then, after they entered the academy. So many human he can kill, so many blood he can spill, imagining it flared his vein, tickling his skin.
His throat ache, begged to be filled with red. To the point where she ought to step in, to clench his need. To pull his interest, channeled it into other things. And what is better then through something that they've done a few times already.
"Don't start...Violet"
Altaris cut, suspicion flickering
"Boring..."
She huffed, cheeks grew bigger then her eyes and mouth combined. Well, that was disappointing - might as well took a huge lick, from the tip of his clavicle to the end of his neck. Shimmering the plane with her saliva.
"Why ?"
Sweet, she needed that reaction
"I'm done"
"Hah..."
That was it, one sentence that completely obliterates his interest. So he sighed, took her hand, clenched it hard as he guide her back to the embrace of the dark, cold obsidian castle. The night was young, a moonless sky painted with stars that doesn't seem to know where to gather, scattered across the canvass.
When will morning came ?, he wanted to chained the giant star, yanked it up to the sky as hard as he can.
Yet he can't
What a regrettable fact that is
----
Morning came
The giant star was back at its rightful place. Its light pierced, parting any veil while the heat smothering, straight to the ground -daring everything to stand between him and the mortals.
None dare to challenge its reign.
Except one, the forest, its ever stubborn defier.
Deep Inside the woods, stood a golden haired man, with golden armor and golden colored cape. In his hand, a spear sat, tip glistened under the light of the star that somehow manage to slip itself between the canopy of branches and leaves. Its shaft adorned with monster of all kinds, from Wyvern, Basilisk, Abomination with sword as teeth, stuff of legend ever hunted by man drawn by the hand of the greatest craftsman ever lived. The finest present his father ever gave.
Yet, after all this
A smile still lacking from his lips.
'This can't continue'
Artur declared, with a 'chak', his spear embedded to the ground. His eyes darted, scanning the surrounding, trying to find a rock, a stump, anything he can sit on.
His body begged to rest, to calm, to just wait for someone to get thirsty enough and entered the forest, so he can get profit from this grim circumstance.
Unfortunately, his mind said otherwise
He can't sit, he can't calm, his patience get thinner by the second
He just wanted to attack, to charge, to lead his team out of the forest, and destroy the twin castle standing in the open like a lamb to slaughter.
Yet he can't
A siege are ten times harder then war
The only possible outcome was either he lost a lot of men, something he can't afford, or worse - forced to retreat without gain.
"My prince, if i may..."
A man name Firland -once again- step in. His gait straight, face calm even while in bow. A knocking sound of Iron strike against each other echoed with every step he took. Yet Arthur can't help but notice, his hand... why he's holding the sword handle.
"We might need to move soon"
Arthur grinned, Interesting.... he can't help but to hear the reason
"Explain"
"If we look at the guard stationed between two castle, it seems one of them are more... lacking then the other"
Well that's it. Back then he wanted to smack this guy after hearing his 'earful' suggestion. But now...
He stepped close, branch crunched under his feet. Leaving gashes deeper then a tiger's footprint. Until he stood just inch from Firland.
"If i attack one of them, what are the chance the other would stay still ?"
Arthur leaned, eyes gazed straight at Firland pupil. The guy should be smaller then him. Then why ? why Arthur did he felt so small ?
"Po...po...possibly, my prince"
"Oh... what a deduction Firland. Now...now... explain to me what prompt you to get such a 'Wonderful' conclusion"
He halted, words lumped at his throat - unable to get out even if he wanted it to be. His mind start to swell, by the weight of regret who by now became two giant hand, crushing him in between like a miserable guy he is. He wanted to back down, to reverse time and curse his mouth for saying something without reviewing it for a thousand time.
And the sad thing is, he knew the answer. His suggestion are not baseless.
But what, what is it ? he forgot, why he is such a cowards ?
"What ? Cat got your tongue ?"
Arthur words pierced him. Shaking him to the core. Now his hand shook, his body shook, his grip whiten by the second.
'Please.... anyone... help me'