S p a c e s
A violent scream ripped violently through his throat. It was a simple sound, a sound of pure emotion. It was a sound that you felt rather than heard. It traveled directly to your bones, shaking you to the core. An unspoken and a little understood mix of loneliness, hatred, misery, and agony filled your chest upon hearing such a scream.
It was really something you never wanted to hear again. The moment it touched your ears, a silent voice within you pleads for it to stop, for it to abruptly end and never begin again.
The crowd was silent. No one moved. No one breathed. The screams that rang through the once cheery and lively air having been replaced by an unnerving silence that formed the moment their new king fell to the ground. It was as if everyone in the crowd had died the very second gravity took hold of their king. Only their other prince's, Thios', voice traveled through the silence, but somehow his panicked cries only made the silence worse.
He hadn't even been king for a whole minute yet, and here he was, dead, cold, and limp, in Thios' arms.
Why? Who would do such a thing? They were a relatively peaceful nation; a small one, one that held very little significance in their world. They didn't meddle in the affairs of others. It was part of their treaty. At one point, their little dot on the map had been a mighty nation, controlling much of their small planet. However, all things must end, and they were brought down. The others sought to slaughter the entire royal family and all of the nobles, all of which were of the same race; they had been stopped, however, when a treaty was proposed. Their people would be allowed to continue to exist (they were an endangered race to begin with, and due to this they were considered royals and nobles) and could keep a tiny fraction of their land as long as they swore to never try to expand their territory, start a war, or get involved in any war. This was difficult, of course, since they were a naturally aggressive race.
They were of no threat at all.
It was disturbing, really, to say the least, seeing their typically stoic faced prince break down as such. However, it was understandable. It was a well-known fact that the two princes had an extremely strong bond between them. Secrets, lies, deception, omission of facts, they simply didn't exist between the two of them. Knowing that, it was understandable and oddly not surprising that the loss of the closest person to him would bring out a side that almost no one had seen before.
The prince jumped in slight surprise as he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. A familiar face stared at him, a concerned but telling expression spread across his white face. His mind was too occupied to remember what his name was, though it stood perched on the tip of his tongue, but he could tell that he wanted him to let go of his older brother's corpse and, slowly and with reluctance, he did. A whimper almost slipped from his throat as his tearful mother scooped up the body of her son and carried him off miserably, but he suppressed it. He looked pathetic enough already, crying and screaming like that.
"Who?" He shouted at the crowd once he rose to his feet, his face taking on now an expression of rage, disgust, and grief. His words were not in any human language, nor one that humans could even hope of ever speaking. It was generally a very graceful and pleasant language to hear, almost musical, but now…with the pain and anguish mixed into his words, it seemed to be a harsh language, a very threatening one.
He repeated the single word when people in the crowd only blinked dumbly at him, some crying at the loss of their king, others paralyzed in shock and fear. Upon repeating the word a second time, though, the heavy fog that seemed to have occupied their minds lifted and they began looking around, searching for anyone who would say "I. I did it." No one did, though, of course, and a murmur broke through the crowd.
Thios hissed, his lips pulling back to reveal those two rows of viscously sharp triangular teeth of his, the crowd shrinking back. He was intimidating. It wasn't that he was unusually strong or anything, he was just determined. He was someone who you could beat down to the ground hundreds of times and he would still rise to his feet, trying again and again, no matter how futile it was, to defeat you. Really, the only way to get him to stop was to knock him unconscious or kill him.
Eventually, he pulled himself away from the crowd, staring at Hasi'l, his forever loyal servant, who only stared back at him. He had a gentle but knowing expression on his face, as was common for him, his head bowed slightly. He wasn't one to speak much, and when he did it was short. "Yes, sir/ma'am", "As you wish", "Thank you, sir/ma'am/master" things of that sort were the only things to ever really leave his mouth. However, after years of being with him, Thios was able to read him. This was in part to being able to see his subtle changes in body language, but it was primarily due to the fact that he simply knew him. He knew how he worked, how he thought, what he approved of and what he didn’t. It was obvious to him, though probably not anyone else, that Hasi’l did not approve of him yelling at the crowd. The country was small, after all, and their borders were tightly closed. Those in their neighboring countries swore to them that they would shoot down any Lasri they saw leaving the country unless a good reason to spare them was given. It wouldn’t take too terribly long to scour the country and pinpoint exactly who had shot the crown prince. That was, however, assuming that the shooter was a Lasri. Such an assumption was typically a safe one, though, seeing as there were very few other races among them and there were no other highly intelligent creatures in their country.
Hasi’l was one of the very few foreigners within their borders. He, like Thios and most of the planet, was an Asidt. Unlike those within Iluous, though, he was not a Lasri and was instead a Sontbre, a race characterized by their white “skin”, which was composed of tiny fragments of clear crystals shaped and arranged in a way that resembled reptiles. Their skin gently refracted light, giving them a calming glistening appearance. Lasri, however, were a race that were characterized by their black skin that had a texture similar to a dolphin’s, but emitted a constant warmth that no amount of cold water seemed to be able to get rid of. Scales of various colours existed in patches on their bodies, almost always at least on their shoulders and hips. They didn't glisten like Lasri. They had a much more aquatic and reptile-like appearance than their more intelligent
With a displeased sigh that was mixed with a huff, he allowed himself to be lead off by Hasi’l, taking comfort in the coolness of his body. He didn’t go without a harsh glance back at the crowd, though, which was slowly beginning to disperse.
“My lo–” Hasi’l started, but he was silenced with a wave of Thios’ hand. “I’m fine.” He murmured, his voice losing the aggression it held just moments before. His words were a blatant lie. That was painfully obvious, even if you ignored the fact that there was no way he would be fine after seeing his brother die before his eyes. His swollen, puffy eyes still glistened with tears, and his jaw still quivered, his voice trembling as well and cracking. He didn’t look “fine” in the slightest. Hasi’l, however, said nothing and, after a moment further, he pulled his eyes away from his prince and looked ahead once more.
If the prince said he was fine, then he was, no matter what may suggest otherwise.