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On the darkest night of the longest year, war stirred in the walls of the lord’s manor. Darkness dense enough to muddy glass shrouded the divided land – showing none their shadows, nor their sins. Rebels, peasants, angels fallen from grace walked the border of chaos – anarchy colouring the slums red. It was a pitiful sight. Death once dead killed no bystanders; As war, once fought brought no peace. In the prison – The Lord of War’s chambers - there was no hope for those who rallied in front of its looming gates. Burnt.
Come daybreak there would be silence, save for the hark of the ravens that nested in the forest on the south side of the manor. Executions. Blood baths. No cost was too great for his Lord, no life beyond his own was above sacrificing for power. His Lord would have no adversaries, just as Heeseung would no longer have roots, or hometown, or relatives. What was left of the life he had left behind would be torn down, and he would watch from the outside looking in as rich lords and ladies celebrated in a festival of blood.
Staring through the coloured panes on the second floor of the manor, Heeseung listened attentively to the discussion through the walls – watching simultaneously the women, men and children shaking the gates, throwing fruit, and waving fires. A sardonic smile caught the ends of Heeseung’s lips – as fire caught the stray material of a tattered banner – the possibility of a poisoned water supply now looming over the people seeking ‘justice’.
‘If only they knew…’
Frowning, Heeseung cast a dirty look to the filthy man that had caught his eye and pointed his accusatory, grimy nails at the window in which he was sat. Disinterested in the muffled roar of an enraged crowd, Heeseung slipped from the mahogany windowsill and let the velvet drapes fall back into their place.
Swaying in place, Heeseung let his head fall empty for a moment. He was sure that had he any blood it would have rushed to his face – yet he felt dizzy due to the lack of feeling. The grey light filtering through the stained windows illuminated the dust in the air, and the empty veins beneath Heeseung’s tissue-thin skin.
“We thank you for your hospitality Lord Pleiades… Yes… My staff will inform Lady Rigel about the Rebel’s next movement. Please send for me if anything changes…”
The door to his Lord’s office opened, and from it emerged louder voices and the sound of footsteps. The conversation was tense yet polite, it was business; and Heeseung was tired of hearing about Business. Licking his chapped lips, Heeseung huffed an amused sigh. His entertainment had come to him without his having to seek it. Turning to face the familiar figure, Heeseung met cold eyes with a dead glare.
“Nishimura Riki, to whom do I thank for your unexpected company?”
His voice was heavy with contempt as he gestured broadly to the short boy before him. Standing in the furthest part of the corridor, shrouded by rich materials was a boy from his past. Angry eyes were covered partially by his platinum blond hair. Niki had the youngest body from the lot of them, yet the wounds that would never heal put years on the boy’s figure.
Heeseung had not seen Niki in 15 years, yet still he looked the same. He was the first person from his past to re-appear since they’d all separated, and he wore the same hateful expression as he had all those years ago. Contemplating his thoughts, Heeseung decided that he’d push the younger’s buttons to make him responsive.
“After everything that has happened, you’re the last person whom I would’ve anticipated coming to visit,”
Niki’s eye twitched darkly. Taking a step closer, Niki crossed the distance between the two boys, from one end of the corridor to the other. Ebony eyes glared red the longer Heeseung maintained eye contact.
“I wish I were here to kill you.”
Niki shortly spat as he flexed his hand impatiently. Heeseung noted how the boy’s voice echoed slightly - as though two people were speaking at once. Adjusting the collar of his silk shirt, Heeseung raised a brow to challenge his junior.
“And why would you wish me dead?”
Neither boy moved as the words hung in the air - decorating the atmosphere with tension as the glass chandeliers decorated the manor with elegance. The question may as well have been rhetorical, it was no secret the events that had transpired prior to their immortality. The flash of light, and shock of noise followed by anguished screams broke the stillness of their confrontation.
Curiously, Niki pulled a curtain back to assess the damage done by the explosion. Fires and smoke polluted the mountain side view from the second floor, and upon inspecting the corpses mangled amongst the injured protestors Heeseung found himself grateful that the stench of burning flesh had not infiltrated the building. It was an ugly sight really, familiar as it may be, and it seemed to stir something within his younger company. The blond's eyes were pitiful and the lines on his face weary; the next words he uttered quiet and flat.
"You know I'm not the only person who wants you dead,"
Heeseung didn't doubt the boy's words for a second. He was, after all, an invaluable asset to his lord in his game of cat and mouse. He could see every movement in the furthest reaches of nightfall, could hear through any wall, travel faster than any carrier pigeon. Heeseung had an instrumental part to play in the fall of his country, just as he had played an instrumental part in the fall of his orphanage. He’d helped completely ruin Niki’s life which of course, begged the question as to why the blond was speaking almost as if he were to warn him.
“And you’re telling me this because?”
A pause, and a long one at that followed the question. Blinking slowly, Niki rubbed his eyes and slumped his shoulders. The blond looked so tired, so worn down despite his immortality - and it stirred feelings of care that had been dormant for over a decade.
"I'm telling you this because…"
Niki hesitated in what he had to say next as the survivors scattered to escape their deaths beyond the walls.
"because there's a part of me that still sees you as my brother despite everything that has happened."
The brunette lost his composure and gaped stupidly at the younger being beside him. If Niki wasn't being so vulnerable with him Heeseung was sure he would have found it in him to laugh and use it to his advantage. Yet the only thing he felt was the heavy, heavy weight of dread.
"Listen, Heeseung. Last month Jake contacted me and explained that he'd received a red envelope embroidered in silver and sealed with gold wax. It was enchanted in some way or another. It spoke to him. It tempted him. The letter was basically an invitation to an early grave. And Jake wasn't the only person who revieved one."
" I got one a week ago, and a few months prior Sunoo and Jay contacted me to tell me the same. Hell, even Sunghoon told me that these letters aren't as they seem."
Absorbing everything with tentative nods, Heeseung furrowed his brows and contemplated seriously what he was being told. Clearly they were someone’s target. It didn’t surprise him much that he and Sunghoon were on someone’s hit list - but Sunoo, Jay, Niki and the others had remained fairly inconspicuous. It was worrying to say the least that the people with the least notoriety were being found first.
"I know things between us aren't the best right now, I'm still pretty...upset with you for what happened. But I'm not angry about it anymore. Forever is a long time to concentrate on the past… So perhaps when we meet again in the future you and I can become close again. Until then do yourself a favour and deny the invitation once you get it.”
“You know better than many the results of wanting more than you have.”
Niki finished, voices ebbing into a weary whisper as he stepped back into the velvety shadows. Letting his head fall against the glass Heeseung regarded the night longer than death, the voice of his lord speaking loudly to his lieutenant, and the bodies a-plenty piling outside the immaculate gates left as a warning and a barrier to separate his world pulling puppet strings from the puppet show.
Yet Heeseung came to the conclusion that he himself may too be a puppet, as he was approached at the break of dawn by his master. Clutched in the white gloved hands was a letter, an invitation as it read, bound in crimson parchment and sealed with gold wax. The crest engraved by that of the sender was a Wolf bearing arms, but no address could be found. His name was written in immaculate cursive and beneath was the phrase, ‘Take everything’. Temptation like the sort a vulture would feel while circling above a corpse ensnared the brunette.
Following the silent command given by the letter, Heeseung moved as if underwater and opened the invitation. No more shown than a date and a location. The only issue Heeseung could conclude was that the invitation was set for a date in the past. His past. 19 years ago, when he was first dragged from his hometown to an orphanage.
Curiosity kills, Heeseung knew as much if the limp bodies chained to filthy floors in the dungeon were evidence. Words unspoken and desires unfulfilled beckoned him closer, and with a smile Heeseung thanked his master. It seemed after all these years, Niki was one of the people who knew him best. After all, Heeseung always wanted more than what he had.