Brittle | MXM Short Story

Chapter 3 - 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙

CHAPTER THREE

KORT

My fingers turned a rosy shade from 7 hours forming paper stars. Over the years I'd spend the majority of my pre-vampire maturity locked in my room doing immature stuff. Like making thousands of stars enough to fill a wardrobe halfway. I lost count of the number only now folding with baggy eyes hoping each one would be as perfect as the others.

Weirdly it reminds me of the sheep and horses that the herders organise for journeys across the country. All needing to be unblemished and neatly pampered for the nobles to use them. They'd spend months doing it until every sundown just for the army and the coven's use, for their families to be fed as well. But I only make the stars for myself, finding nothing more important in life to do.

No one wanted me to touch what really needed to be done.

It even reminds me of father and how high his hopes were for my mother to carry his child. He'd tell me they'd failed around a hundred lifetimes just praying for a perfect young. My mother's health always found itself declining - something I inherited from her - until the fatal morning Malcom and I were born only for us to not meet father's wishes. At least I didn't.

Sometimes that woman would haunt me in my sleep because I swear some nights I'll hear her screeching voice in the corners of my room. Replicating how much she balled at the pain I caused her and how much she regretted birthing me. She wouldn't dare show herself other than a curved silhouette that was more of a shadow than anything. It made me believe that it was all in my head, I knew it was, but I couldn't help but think if she was alive today she'd treat me just like father. Nothing can reassure me that I was loveable.

My head spun around at the rustling branches outside followed by heavy grunting. Usually there would just be morning birds and the guards doing their annual patrol but never a lone man's voice. My palms dug into the rug beneath me attempting to pull my body higher off the ground by grabbing onto the drawer. Eventually my left leg drags upwards giving my body the chance to lean against the metal window frame.

There the creature stood out on the fields with a tree trunk on his back seemingly lifting them into a pile in a way of relieving his anger. The man was huge and practically glowing in the sunlight. His jaw structure was nearly venomous by how sharp the edges were. Hooded vexed eyes possessing a gemstone green accompanied by thick black eyebrows. His charcoal skin drenched in sweat beams flexed in the morning light giving me a clear vision of his muscled frame.

This man resembled the marble carvings in the gardens. His face so familiar yet foreign making me bite down on my lips at the frustrating confusion until it came to me, he was our new chief.

Three months ago I remember overhearing Malcolm and old friends chattering about how entertaining the fight was between the mages. The future of our army. From what I heard it was a gory sight with our old chief being brutally slaughtered by his own son and the same son drinking his blood as if it was a last supper.

Too bad my father insisted I miss it not wanting it to 'scare' me as if I was a child. Not that I knew the old chief or his son at all. I only remember catching one or two conversations with the old chief due to more than half of his time being spent outside the country in war but now seeing his incarnation directly at my reach I couldn't help but feel something bubbling within me. What was it?

A man that looked far older than the boys my age and mature for once. Who was he really? Why was he here?

Exactly when I thought that I was hiding myself discreetly the male's head shifted upwards peering at me on the third floor of the Coven. His eyes widened and I saw the rage melt along with his stern expression while we stared at one another. The bubbling feeling got worse at the fear of being noticed.

You probably look like a runt. He pity's you Ko. I heard my mother whisper, causing my fingers to uncontrollably reach for the curtain to pull them over the window right before the Chief sent a smile and waved in my direction.

It can't be real. Mother is right, he's only doing it out of pity. Don't fall for it. Ignore him.

Briskly my body turned backwards shunning the man outside only to stumble on my steps - forgetting I can't walk. My eyes were left wide and watering after my leg gave in sending me onto the ground hitting my ankle on the side of the dresser causing me to cry out in pain.

Maybe if you cry louder he'd hear you and tell your father what you've been doing. Talking to men like a whore.

"She's lying, Ignore her too." My voice was a soft muttering while my hands gathered at my ears doing nothing because mother was in my head. Sewn in like embroidery. It was her way of downgrading me, making me feel the littlest interaction was wrong, that I was always wrong.

Minutes flew by like nothing before silence surrounded me and the pain dimmed. I got myself off the floor peeking outside to see the mage gone. For some reason it made my chest ache at the loss of his presence. Why did I enjoy being seen as if I was starving for attention? I didn't need it!

That was before my eyes trailed down to the dresser spotting a red inked scroll. I release a held breath from how it mysteriously appeared before me yet for some reason it felt...inviting. I dotted around the page seeing the poor handwriting just clear enough to read; not to mention father prevented me from reading.

Wait for my next visit and don't turn away next time.

My eyes reread it nearly a hundred times over not fully understanding. Was he returning soon? He wanted to see me again? Is he trying to get me killed? What could the chief possibly want from me?

Blood rose onto my face before crumbling the paper and throwing it back onto the fields. Not before scribbling back a message of my own. If father, if anyone found that in my room I'd be punished. But something carnal inside me did not care about what he thought for the first time in years...