11 Calix

I know I know, it's been long and I am a terrible person. But hear me out! Viviana here, that is I- just got selected to be a part of wattpad creators program and I have been sitting on this amazing information for like more than a month now. When I received the invite I HAD to take a step back and look at my works- and like, really look at it and try to understand how I should be approaching it with utter seriousness since I have been given such opportunity. I did not want this to go to waste. So now I feel ready to come out of my shell and work for it.

Crown of curse is now the project I will exclusively devote my focus to and I really hope you will be here to help me with the journey.

Thanks for immense patience of yours. And please do refer last chapter to understand this one better. The updates will be frequent from now on.

Really true this time.

P.s unedited (will be edited soon)

You.

Sometime in future. You.

'Possessive with the idea of owning your secrets and at some time in future. You'

These are the scrapes of his intention and the twisted confession that stay with me as we descend the cliff and blend into the city. He hasn't uttered a word after such plaguing remark, and neither have i. The sun melts into the roofs of houses and there are floral drawings on doors and windows of almost every inn and tavern, and where there isn't- a burst of bushes and vines ornaments the stone walls. It spirals and hangs like curly ribbons as kids play with it- reaching for flowers and fruits. Adults buy from vendors and there are so many kinds of fruits and flowers that I hadn't heard about or seen.

It will always remain a gaping wound in me to not be able to forget or forgive what had been taken from us. This village was what's everything in opposition to a wasteland, it's an agricultural fort of Antar. The fort of verdant. It supplies the nutritional source to the whole of realm, and as I walk with closed steps I could feel the energy suppressed in the soil that's a catalyst to how quickly the crop grows within its territory.

A seed sowed today, the sprout that greets tomorrow.

The fort is welcoming, and if what the map implements are true- it's a mere two-day journey from Verdant to Esseth. We are near - he to his home and I, to know the fate of my people.

Sometime in future. You.

The checkered scarf is wrapped around his neck and mouth, his disguise was effortless since he barely tries to hide, and surprisingly-he compounds fairly with all the other merchants and travellers, and on the other hand it takes me hours worth to morph into the freckled, blonde and pale adolescent in time which had caused a prime to shift. The Ezdan has faded into the cold and brooding self once I stepped out from the tree that provided me with privacy to take my impetus stimulant and work on my hair while I wait leisurely for the tonic to dense my features.

I noticed that he had made a few changes to his own persona, the Armin badges on his shirt were gone and his shoes were dustier than before. I don't ask him questions, and soon got disappointed when he doesn't too. Sourly I anticipate for him to say something so I could back talk with a good sense of individualism evident in my reply, but no, nothing.

Possessive with secrets? And me?

What a cunning coyote does he think he is?

If it's to force me into training my haunting abilities to his war propaganda, I would rather die than be a reason for ruin. I would solely not kill him instead to prove my point- I am not his curse. And then, he can own my grave for all I care- I would be in need of a place for my eternal rest, he can possessively carry the task with glee in his heart. I shall allow that.

We walk beside our horses because it's considered impolite in the market street to ride along walkers unless you are royalty or a high blood, as I was told. And so I watch the con artist and self-knighted thief ahead of me, wishing that someone would catch his leg causing him to bear a tumbling fall. But instead, a petite distracted girl collides with his side and staggers, he catches her by her elbow and helps her with a guarded smile. The girl flushed with a stammering whisper of thanks. I clench in disgust as he makes path for us to venture. My tongue is spicier with questions till we stood in front of a decorated door with iron links, lanterns lit by the small garden with only essentials grown. A ripe tomato catches my starving attention, the night has fallen into its shy moonless ness- and I haven't had a piece of food since morning and no one cared.

No one cared that I require food to stay alive, despite being a benefitting pawn for his sick vision of a heist.

I am considering pocketing the tomato and some radish when I hear him knock, the iron ring against the wood in a pattern.

One- two -two- one- one

I feel him steal a quick glance of me as if in evaluation. A checkq of my behaviour. My frown deepens, he avoids it.

It takes a while for the resident to reach, but when the door opens I see a woman. An aged beauty that smiles at Ezdan with a teary crinkle in her eyes, her smile a blooming spring even before she unlocked the door. The knock- she knows who was here.

And she was happy- elated to receive the boy into her harbour.

She hugs him and he doesn't spare a breath into embracing her lovely gesture.

Her hair hung loosely from the braided bun like a raining tread of silver and grey, I swayed on my heels peering at the exchange when she caught sight of me. Untangling herself from the Ezdan she held me captive with her generous novelty.

"And who is this handsome little gentleman with Lian?"

The Ezdan interwind with great effort after my silence.

"Little might be an underestimation Samallie"

Samallie- the woman isn't fazed by the odd introduction of mine. Which clearly was a mock in disguise.

"I wish you let the boy speak for himself" she is comfortable telling the prince off, and I am in a fit of awkward crossfire when the Ezdan attempts once more to spare me from it.

"I suspect your son is in danger, I need to contact them" Lian is guarded with his utterance, but Samallie closes her eyes in dismay.

"I would be surprised the day he isn't in one" she sighs, her eyes light once more "It's something I was given an account of on the day he got cast off to train as an oath"

But she spins off inside, her walk hurried towards a room. I am tailing by them- rushing my poor, hungry head to eat as much information as it could because it seems to be all the Ezdan could provide me. The food? I should have taken the broth he offered last night.

I see a painting hung by the wall, two young boys staring into the watchers soul. One smiles and the other is stone. They are dressed in a smaller and gentler version of Armins navy suit. In place of pride medals that now adorn their uniforms, there is a pin with the symbol.

The shade of ash from the phoenix's death is the same as the Ezdans eyes.

This house- it's the past of Hann Slantis. The woman, his mother. And i- have no means to be here, yet I am. I turn and see the chamber they had entered, I wasn't instructed for privacy so slowly i enter watching them stand by a mahogany desk with a golden sheet spread across. When I near I see the emblem of Antar again- at the top right, the wings in gold are much more ferocious than the one in the portrait. The quality is immaculate, and there's no doubt that it is the official seal.

The sheet is a military property with cores energy. I have seen them in books, read about it's values and wondered upon the people who were allowed to own it. Have such power.

And here I was, looking at one.

When the Ezdan retrieves an iron quill, his grip on its neck vices. The messenger that lay ahead of him, I know what that is. The world knows what that is. While we all marvel, only a few are destined to see and use it. What he writes here will be delivered by the twin messenger that the other master it belongs to. And in this scene- The General.

The General with whom my friends are.

I don't know how, but I am standing next to him counting my breaths while Samallie holds a lantern for him to write.

His wrist finally succumbs to the tension.

From fort Verdant

Status report required

Ezdan Julian the second

Then we wait.

And it's a wait so long that I can drain water from a river, the minutes that passed- my body kept shutting the optimistic responses to something vile and delusional. I check with samallie and I suspect no hint of stress, she has been through this. She goes through this fear every day for her son. But she can't do anything for it's the son who chose this life for himself.

Ezdan hasn't left his sight from the inscription he wrote. But when the ink began to disappear he smiled.

"He is alive enough to strike me off. His arms are fine Samallie" he announced unapologetically.

Samallie grunts with a sweet glare his way.

"Beware Lian, it's my son you speak of"

Lian watches the new words spill in neat cursive, we all do. But that doesn't bother his mouth.

"We both know I make a better son than him" he mumbled as the woman breaths a laugh. But I am too far gone to be a part of their exchange, immersed in the messagers canvas I swap my yearning stare from them to it.

When form of the statement blackens enough for us to read. My eyes run over it in a sleazy repitation.

From orchid evacuation site.

In control. Three fatalities.

General Slantis.

Though I am crushing to weigh the number of reasons my companions could be among the death toll, I hear their conversation.

"You strategically treat me well because your crown stole my boy from me" I can't detect if it's a joke between them or if she believes such notion, but to be able to accuse the crown of theft needs freedom and power. And with her sacrifice, Samallie seems to have gained such honour.

I blinked hard to see more letters arise from it, but nothing happens. I feel the Ezdan close some space between us once Samallie leaves to prepare some bath and meal for us. The Ezdan picks the quill and strikes off the page- and just like that the words are gone. Then he writes again.

Are any training fighters injured or dead?

I feel so small and enclosed in the space with him that I can't bear to look at him. The answer comes sooner than before.

None.

All secure.

A laugh escapes me, girlish and alluring, tugging his attention to me. He is cold still, callous and not the kind of boyish Ezdan when he forces on a fooling smile for people to see. I grin at its absence. His smile. Something was bothering him and that must be enough to tickle my bones. If he aspires to draw me into his hell, I might thrill with the idea of becoming his.

So when he walks away, I am still in bliss.

My friends are alive and the ezdan doesn't have a liking towards my real laugh. And it's my duty now, to laugh often in his presence.

If brave enough one day, certainly at him.

---------

We sat together for dinner, the house of Slantis was made for moderate comfort. A scale less than what i deem as luxury. The age of materials in here seems to not have been touched or changed in years. But the space emits furry emotions. I am cocooned in a cosy caress when I touch anything that belonged to them. The sensation is unexplainable but I had enough time while sitting in the warm bath to not neglect the signs.

The signs of shifting.

The shift of something in me. Within me.

After last night's invasion and my vision, I am no longer an empty brass that keeps denying the existence of core power in me. I may lack physical attributes such as Dorin and others, but there is something that keeps trying to speak to me.

Tell me something while I force it into a deafening silence.

Similar to the one while we play with the supper.

While they play, I eat. Slowing my bites with the steamed potatoes and delicious stew with herbs, I remind myself that eating rapidly will only cause a reflux. I have enough experience with starvation and revival to act gracefully.

"I knew Hann's clothes from his younger days would fit you fine Timo" samallie says cutting a piece of lettuce-wrapped dish that I have no name for. But it's my current favoured along with everything and anything here that's served. Even the jug of water and the jug its in it. I chew fast to answer her.

"Thanks for lending it to me ma'am" I politely pause and then watch her eyes glass. She blinks away with a nod and smile. I remind him of Hann- I may not know how I do know, but I seem to read her so well. She and every other person that I see or breathe near. I am thriving on such diverse energy. Speechless I look down at the plain cotton tunic and the full-sleeved coat and I touch its seams.

My breath is caught in my throat and it speaks to me again. The fabric.

If it wasn't for the Ezdans scorching stare on my paling features, I would have let this wave carry me to its end. I ask him to pass me the cup of boiled egg to behave less strange, but his eagle eyes are piercingly a challenge to uphold so I cast my gaze low.

"I believe I have some of my attire stacked here from my visits, I am certain they are in much better condition" I hear him toss the unasked opinion into the table and the roasted beans are bland on my tongue. What does he imply?

I hear a soft chuckle from Samallie and I see her wink at me.

"The clothes you used to were too sophisticated for a child, and you were quite a tall kid Lian. Timo might drown in your shirt- am I not right?" She has a childlike glint in her voice and I am nodding solely to be excused from her attention. Only to have the Ezdans now.

And he doesn't appear susceptible with me agreeing to Samallie.

"For someone who eats so much, he sure is limited" he says holding my stare.

Limited.

limited?

He then drifts off with his dish and an extra serving of dragon fruit. The arrogance I suspect him to radiate is absent when I watch him leave for the kitchen, in its place I am nailed with a suppressed rage, it's burning like a white fire inside him. My chest hurts and my eyes water. I move from my seat and stand up.

"I will clean this for you, you may go rest for the night ma'am" my abrupt gesture makes samallie worry in regard. But she stays quiet and takes my advice and wishes me the night. I am still hurting and In need to put distance between him and me. His emotions are aching all over me and I now know I wasn't wrong.

None of my suspicions were.

I have begun to not just see the future, but the emotions of who I desire.

Once she is out of my sight I walk away, like an inquisitive cat and sneak off from the room. I then rush to the painting that I came across earlier. The two boys captured and framed in time. Frozen in a state of emotion, I stand by it. I touch its texture and close my eyes and with that, the darkness is in a duel with a bright light. It's the first snow, the sun's heart, the pearls of sea, the eye of storm. It's a cloud and it's a sky. Its the innocence and its the laughter that resonate. It's careless and I see the source of it, it's him- Hann Slantis- no more than nine of age in his little Armin suit causing a ruckus in his bench beside the young Ezdan, he busies himself in fixing the links to his cuffs and the lace to his boots. Ignoring Hann in a sincere attempt to stop him from causing a disaster to his hair.

The Ezdan is patient with the mischievous Hann, but doesn't bat an eye at the nuisance.

"I cannot believe I having my portrait done" little Hann exclaims coiling his arm around Ezdans shoulder "Do they do this often in the palace?"

The Ezdan is taller in stature as said by Samallie , but not vividly apart. He mutters a yes with and Hann's contentment has no bounds, he ruffles Ezdans hair once again and looks ahead at the artist.

"I love this life" whispers Hann.

The Ezdan mimics his poster though much poise in roots,

"Sir Lazar, my hair best be altered during the session. It doesn't usually look like a parrots nest" The Ezdan requests politely.

Hann finds it funny and ushers the artist to proceed. And then clouds of ink, black and grey stain the memory until all I see is the void beneath my closed eyes. I gasp and stumble back clenching my cold wrist. I am trembling and heaving and staring at the painting with accusing stare.

But It accuses me back at me for ruining its solitude. It's secrets and the little life I felt in the boy. To have seen a part of the prince that isn't same anymore. To have have seen something forbidden in time.

It whispers to me the unlawful taste of reading its past. The past that isn't even mine.

It indicts me of harming a beautiful memory.

It blames me of having such power-

-or Curse.

Opps I guess. To be able to see the past, present and future. Is it a gift or a curse? I feel for her though.