Ruin Maketh Me

23 - He Remembers (II)

Ralphus

He tried hard to get it out of his mind, but all through breakfast and even facing the Kades, his thoughts kept looping back to that boy. Even now, with the rumoured Academy buildings before his eyes, that boy's rage and cool sleet storm gaze flickers in and out of sight amidst stone walls.
"Ralphus dear, how are you finding the journey?" Lutra turns and smirks.
One, two, three, "Fine."
Lutra raises a dark brow, red eyes siding down and gives a knowing smile, "Say what you like Ralphus."
One step, and another and another past archways and doors. What is the boy doing now? Is he in his room sleeping or eating breakfast? What had caused him to be so frustrated yesterday? They halt to an almost jilting stop before vast double doors.
Julius Kade pulls the door open with a flourish, and all activity within halts to a stop. The red haired human who sat next to him yesterday calls out form by the window, "Young Master Kade, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Julius does not respond, and instead makes his way up the stairs to the top of the theatre. Ralphus casts a brief glance at the prince before following suit. He had felt it yesterday when the man cast that irksome smirk at him, but now the disappointment is clearer than ever. To have thought the prince example of the human species would have produced such offspring like him, not better than that boy, a mere slave.
The boy's poised posture and grace filled speech bloom into vision. Surely the boy must bear some noble lineage? There's something different about him, but exactly what, Ralphus can't quite name. Several discordances like how the wild fire in his eyes is incongruent with his noble bearing. How the noble bearing of his step is incongruent with his near absolute obedience to Kade. How his fearlessness is incongruent with his human nature.
Merlow forgive him, he cannot forget how the boy cloaked himself with fearlessness, not when it's of a quality that even the Emperor's son doesn't bear. Certainly not when it's of a quality unbefitting of a human.
"I didn't know you'd care so much for a human."
Ralphus's fingers twitch, and he pushes all the clutter of his mind away from his conscious. When it's satisfyingly blank, his eyes light from person to person, studying each face. Second prince Lyon, that curiously dark-eyes human: Declan du Sel, third son of the underworld king, some small human noble, another inconsequential human noble, an indigo haired human. His eyes slow.
      Marselle Delclard and beside her, the boy and the girl, Radgar Zweo and Lily Zweo. Powerful. Dangerous. He can sense the wisps of magic melting from all three like tendrils of hair, and although it's passive, it's a warning and a test. The fever radiating from Lutra roars hotter as he fixes his eyes on the back of that indigo head.
     "Marselle Delclard. She's not your average human." He speaks to no one in particular.
     A hot hand grasps Ralphus's arm by the elbow. The darkness dislodges itself from his stomach, he can cut off that hand in this instant. He won't have to suffer anymore.
     But, cruel logic interjects, you'll have to kill him otherwise his hand will just grow back.
     "How many strikes do you think it'll take for you to kill them three?" Lutra's serpent whisper flickers softly beside his ear.
     Ralphus casts his eyes to the lilac heads of the boy and girl, "It's best not to discuss such things here."
     "Tch, I'd say three blows for the woman," Lutra says, tapping his foot, "I didn't think she'd procure the Zweos." He turns his head slightly towards Julius's direction, "I wanted them you know."
      Julius throws a look at Lutra but otherwise makes no comment. 
      "You have Set, so you won't understand. It would've been such a thrill to have blood thirsty half humans as a gift." He licks the corner of his lip, and turns his attention back to Ralphus again, "Well then, Sir Ralphus, how many blows would it take to kill them both?"
     Ralphus analyses the exuding power's course and strength, ten, maybe fifteen? "It's best not to discuss such things here."
     Lutra's self conceited smirk fades, and his red eyes peer into Ralphus's dangerously, "You're such a bitterly stoic demon." His claws unsheathe and poke subtly through Ralphus's uniform, "I'd say," he whispers hotly, "it'd take ten to fifteen blows by you. The girl won't be easy, and the boy's a slight too wild even for my liking, but you'd be able to do it. Especially if you—
     "Lutra." Julius calls simply.
      Lutra's mouth closes like a mousetrap, but Ralphus's fingers curl tightly by his side.
     "It'd be a better idea to form an alliance." Zus says frigidly.
     The corners of Lutra's lips rise rigidly, "They may have some strength but they're still half breeds."
     Zus's eyes turn slowly towards Lutra, ice meets raging fire—
     "Young master Kade," Lyon calls out staring out the window, for once losing his unbothered drawl, "Is that your boy?"
     Something tightens within Ralphus. That boy? His eyes pierce towards the scarlet haired human whose long gaze is drawn towards something unreachable outside the window. He expands his vision twice fold and watch every twitch and manipulation of this human's muscles. Orbicularis oculi, Zygomaticus, Nasalis...
     The human's showing immense interest.
     "Where did you find the boy, which family is he from?" Lyon continues, eyes not drawing one second away from the sight outside.
     Julius's face is impassive, but from the rising flames of his eyes Ralphus can tell he's very pleased. A chill inches its way through the bottom of his feet, he's planning something. What? He couldn't possibly... Is the boy coming here?
      A low whistle pierces the air from the prince's mouth, and finally he turns away from the open expanse outside. He hums a little, runs a finger through his long earrings and fastens his eyes intently on the classroom door.
     Ralphus's feet tense, and he lets out a small probing spark. There are two heat sources moving down the corridor, one slight and thin, the other tall and curved. Set's bringing the boy here. Why? This has never happened before, not with the previous human, nor the slightly less offending one before. Julius Kade wasn't a demon who would allow it, and yet this time, he had. Did he see the same things as him in that Cynder?
     The pyre 0f Julius's eyes becomes an inferno.
     Click.
     All eyes turn to the door.
     The boy steps out of the shadow of the door, and he cannot move his eyes away. The breathe sticks in Ralphus's throat. The boy's no longer wearing that plain white shirt and rough black pants. He's clad in a Prussian silk shirt, and it frames his every angle and curve. Every exposed and covered skin screams for him to look and treasure. But it's not only his appearance, it's something carved deeper within the boy's very soul. A spirit moving charm, heart rendering charisma, and in Ralphus's eyes, he's gut wrenchingly delicate yet strong. So strong.
Then the boy's eyes sweep through the throngs of people, up, up to him, and gives him a look that pierces through all stone and shields and steel cocoons. The swirl and eddy of the stars and the sky in his eyes say that he's seen it all, completely. They render Ralphus a mere child again, and he can't help but sit, bolted to his seat, and forget Kade and remember Kade both as intensely as each other.
This being, this boy, dips his head down like a disappointed king and waltzes lightly between all the congregated people like this land is not hard earth and rock but air. But that thing within him tightens and tenderly sours. The boy's stance is still tightly noble, but there's a stiffness. He does not move as supplely as he had done yesterday. He's hurt. Ralphus's toes bend and clutch the soles of his boots. Who?
      "Fallen Luchus."