But he stayed still, and so did Zayne.
As everyone watched, Awan sat in a corner, clasping his hair, mumbling cries to himself.
Kaya stared at the vultures. Her body hung low, and her expression was dim like a corpse. Her skin was pale, and no amber was left in her.
Reluctantly, her arms held onto her shirt. She pouted, making slight mumbles to herself.
As they watched, the council rubbed their hands together.
Slowly, it glided across her stomach unwillingly. Her shirt was slowly being pulled up as her waistline and belly button were exposed. She closed her eyes in embarrassment.
Malik felt that jaggedness in his pocket. It was darker than ever, and it called.
Everyone above catcalled her figure and spoke of her like a lifeless toy. To the council, she was a doll, a doll they could share without consequences.
The depraved hung their tongues out, breathing through their mouths profusely as they kneeled to her.
Admiring her body, their hands trembled as they were about to make contact with her skin. Nearing, their unclean fingers edged the surface of her body.
Goosebumps arose on her stomach as her face turned a bright red. She trembled, and the hands caressed her stomach sensually.
Some said, "The birth of harmony, such a beautiful gift. . ."
They didn't stop. They were only savoring.
. . . . .
It didn't matter anymore. Blood. That's what it thirsted. A blade that thirsted.
Spirals formed. Grey pierced. Sigils blackened. It broke past blue and gold.
It saw everything and broke through its sheath. It charged forward and—
. . . . .
SCHROFSHHH!!! SPLUTCH!!!! SCHUNK!!!!!!
"GAHHHHHHH!!!!!! STOP—GAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!"
"No! NO! Please not there—"
ZZZ-SQUISH!!!!!!
"Did she want you to touch her there?" It asked.
"AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
"Get away from me! Get away—"
SHH-THWIP!
"Why should I? You didn't get away from her, did you?"
Lacerated, flesh tore like paper. Silent punctures, what a pleasant scar. Arteries, how they gush.Twist the blade, play with the veins. Cut the tissue, the muscle, and the bone.Bleed, cry, writhe for all I care.
Like animals, you lust. Like animals, you die.
. . . . .
Only a few remained. Their hearts sank.
The injured rolled in agony.
It laughed. "How many others have you wrongly sent to death, knowing they couldn't defend themselves?"
It stared at one who crawled on the red carpet.
Crouching, it stared at him with piercing grey eyes.
"You people were right. I am the storm. I am the observer. You only forgot the blade that pierces in all directions. However, you may have mistaken this blade for a storm."
Holding the blade, it stomped on one's back, breaking it.
He made a silent squeal and crawled like a lamb to the slaughter.
The blade kicked him again and faced another. The head subordinate analyzed it. It was a stare that remained, one that truly scarred onto his face, but he resisted a smile. The tired judge on the throne was entertained.
Guan Sui held back a laughter as one of them begged helplessly, as if the blade was dull enough to believe it.
"Please, mercy. We meant no harm," he said, holding his hands out in surrender.
"As did I. And where did that lead us? The edge of my mercy."
. . .
Swiftly, the blade sliced off the helpless fingers from its palm.
Whimpering, the sycophant hugged it, bleeding into the carpet. It spurted, and dark red drops landed on the blade's face.
"Your blood is not of humans. The red is merely an illusion," it said, turning around, licking the sprayed blood off its lips.
Shaking, the entire court trembled. Something was imminent. A crash formed, and a piercing strike of lightning cried.
At once, a storm broke outside. It rumbled with white hairs of thunder. Of course, there was a storm inside too. It was watching, it was thunderous, and it was bisecting. It divided the gold and dark eyes that witnessed it firsthand from above.
Silence. The downpour of rain tapped on the ceiling of the palace.
Under the rumbling, the gory scene took place right before their eyes.
It stood, pointing its bloody blade to the skies.
It felt the spiral turning in its grey eye, never turning the other way. It felt the scarred branding on its arm from long ago. This time, it was coated in black like a tattoo.
Remembering this feeling, it recalled the moment when it was in front of the mirror, in that dark room. It promised itself it would bring a light to that room, so that it wouldn't engulf him any longer.
It wouldn't allow this room to get darker than that memory.
. . .
Facing Marah, it uttered, "Where is your joy, people? I am the only example of justice in this courtroom, and I have condemned the real animals before you! Now is the time to cheer, to celebrate, to chant! You no longer have to fake your emotions, for joy can now be real! The golden miracle that you've always hoped for!"
Words speared across the court, piercing many in the heart and spilling gold. The darkness had begun to leave as a new brightness emerged. It wasn't a gold of luxury, but one of purity.
Gold does not have to be the jewelry one wears to show off. Gold is the warmth within one's defiance.
Many mouths curved upward rather than downward. Their shock slowly formed into awe.
They had seen a real carnivore devour a smaller group of carnivores right before their eyes. In unison, they all clapped. But what were they clapping for? Was it joy? Fear? Grief? Forgiveness?
The blade saw their demeanors. Regardless of the intentions behind their applause, it had convinced the people. But would it be able to convince those closest to its point?
Applauding, they continued, and even when their hands got tired, they never wavered.
When the blade smiled, so did they. When the blade raised its arm, so did they. And when the blade roared, so did they.
Then a voice emerged. One with remnants of gold.
"M-Malik?" she spoke, then fell.
Zayne caught her body as it fell. His thread had been sliced before it all.
Malik felt his head ache. It was a cluster of agony pooled in his head.
Everything felt hazy. He hadn't processed what he had done yet.
When he saw the sight, he didn't gasp. He merely gave a half-smile.
Instantly, an armada of medics broke through the door, carrying stretchers attached to first aid kits and IVs.
Rushing in, they attempted to resuscitate the unconscious bodies, blocking out their bleeding faucets with thick cloths. The medics expected corpses, but seemed unprepared for bodies clinging to life.
They rolled out half of the council in confusion. The rest weren't in critical condition. But their faces were—they didn't have the gall to speak after.
. . .
In the silence, he finally turned to her.
Malik peered at Kaya, who was barely awake, with her eyes blurred.
He kneeled before her and kept his distance. She was the only one his blade would never point to.
"I promised everything would be okay . . . and look where that took us." Malik said, resisting a river of tears.
Nearby, a slow clap arose.
It caught Malik off-guard, he frowned, giving one last glance at Kaya. Then, he stood up, and stared at him.
Guan Sui gave a half-grin as his spear was tossed aside.
He laughed. "Congratulations, Malik. You've only convicted yourself."
"I don't care," he asserted. "If you're going to have to search her, have a trusted woman do it away from this pit of vultures."
From the gold, an old woman raised her arm out. It was Adirah.
"I'll take care of the girl. She's safe in my hands," she spoke softly, still covering the young Nodin's eyes.
He was confused at what occurred, but the applause to Malik and the silence to Guan Sui were all that made the boy smile.
Guan Sui sighed. "Very well. I do not object."
The old woman rushed down the flights of steps and assisted Kaya to a washroom in the corner of the court. Kaya had built up enough strength to walk, but only barely, and Adirah supported her as they entered.
As they left, Guan Sui gave a sly look. "Now Malik, wouldn't you say it's your turn now? The council was so excited over this, after all."
The remaining council stared at the crowned subordinate with wide eyes. Even he found amusement in the whole altercation.
Malik laughed and stepped forward, standing tall. He was waiting for them to kneel to him.
Hesitantly, the council crawled toward his legs. They wore tight grimaces as they trembled.
They lightly placed their palms on him, patting him down for a wire, nearly gagging.
"Why those faces? Did you want it to be her?" Malik grinned maniacally.
Guan Sui only laughed at the lowly sycophants. "Ahh, come on council, isn't this what you wanted?"
He paused, then stared at the one in control.
"I loosened his threads just for you."
. . . . .