FicWad

Chapter 1

Yami


A leaf spiraled down from the branches of the Old Oak that stretched down to the castle windows, breezing inside smoothly and landing on the young Prince’s face as he slept, waking him abruptly and causing a rather violent sneeze.
Yami blinked open his eyes, just in time to see the leaf flutter away onto the floor near his oversized bed, settling calmly and sparkling with what he thought was dew but was just as likely to be his own snot.
He sniffled, wiping his nose across his night tunic’s velvety blue sleeve. Yami noticed he was hugging his pillow tightly (more of a strangle, now that he realized), and shoved it into the corner of the bed briskly, blushing with embarrassment. He was a Prince, and he was only months away from becoming the Royal Kingdom’s new Emperor; he didn’t have time to hold onto pillows like they would save his life.
And he especially didn’t have time to do that over a leaf.
He doubted his future Queen would enjoy a pillow-hugger, anyway.
At the thought of having a wife, Yami’s emotions turned anguished. None of the women here appealed to him much, and he didn’t idealize having a Queen at all, now that he thought about it. He knew several of the peasant girls working under his father chased after him like rabid squirrels, taking any chance possible to meet with him in the Blossom Garden to flirt with him.
He knew not all girls were like that, but the way they acted made Yami now dread his birthday, only months away, when someone was meant to propose to him. His stomach flipped over at the thought of brain-washed girls kneeling down on one knee and opening a tiny black box to reveal a diamond ring set on a neat, silky velvet cushion.
It’s not that he didn’t like them, no, he was amazed at their perseverance and dedication and everything they’d sacrificed to work for the Kingdom, but… He still couldn’t feel ready for that kind of responsibility.
Especially after his mother had passed away ten years ago, when he was still a young boy.
He wasn’t very invested in love at all. But he still didn’t want to break the hearts of every girl in the Royal Kingdom, either.
He shoved these unsettling, conflicting thoughts into the back of his mind, focusing instead on the task at hand, which seemed more daunting than anything he had faced before:
Getting out of bed and preparing for his father’s announcement later that evening.
Yami hopped out of his King-Size mattress, his bare feet hitting the ground with a soft thump. He looked out at the sky through his window, noticing with a start that the sun had risen to almost halfway across the blue sky. It was midday already.
He drew back the soft, lavender curtains, draped majestically over his bed, gilded with gleaming gold ridges. He took one side of his silk navy blanket and swept it through the air, straightening it over his sky-blue sheet. He took his pillow from where it had been stuffed abruptly into the corner against the wall, the case wrinkled, and placed it delicately back where it belonged.
Yami sighed, mentally checking off a task on his To-Do List and moving on to the next.
He turned to his massive dresser on the other side of his room, his anxious reflection glowering back at him from the morbidly large mirror that sat on the top, the glassy surface neatly polished and cleaned, not a speck of dust in sight. He smiled for the first time that morning. He had always been very neat and organized, and that was sure to never change.
“Uncleanliness is a sign of weakness,” His father had always told him. “Respect your possessions as much as you respect yourself, because a dirty home will be a falling Kingdom.”
Yami repeated the words to himself every morning as part of his routine.
He dragged his lost gaze from the mirror, grabbing a hairbrush more fiercely than he would have liked, and he paused for a moment.
What’s happening to me? Yami thought, dread creeping up his spine. He had been so on edge lately, and he had no idea why.
It was ever since that man had arrived in the Royal Kingdom. He had claimed he had business with the King, but Yami didn’t trust him. Something about the way he talked… About the strange symbol branded onto a necklace strapped carefully around his neck, tucked into his vest pocket, as if trying to hide it from view.
He didn’t remember everything about the mysterious symbol (as it was hiding in their pocket), but he had some details embedded thoroughly into his mind.
It had been some sort of Yin-Yang, but it looked different. Strange. The edge was lined with silver, and the two sides of the balance were separated by a glistening ‘S’. He wondered what sort of cult he came from.
He took his hair in his hands and brushed through it smoothly, and when he was finished, he tied the back into his usual ponytail with a scarlet hair tie.
Yami heard voices outside his room and remembered he had left the window open last night to let in the fresh breeze from the forest to help him sleep. He strutted over to the windowsill, almost running back to the safety of his room as he spotted what lay below.
A group of five girls crowded beneath his room at ground level, staring up at him with big smiles. They waved. Yami returned the gesture politely, grinning with shining, white teeth.
The girls below screamed and jumped, their faces beet red.
That was when one girl started climbing the Old Oak leading to his window.
She had messy brown hair that stuck up in every possible direction. Her skin was tanned and dark, and a scar trailed its way down her neck. She had a pair of round glasses, and her face was dotted with freckles. Her eyes shone with a radiant blue, reminding him of his own. She wore a dirty tan tunic with a black skirt reaching to her ankles, and her feet were bare.
When she noticed him watching, she quickened her pace up the tree.
Yami quickly shut the window and closed the blinds.
He felt bad for his rude reaction and regretted it. He should have been more polite.
But he didn’t want creepy girls climbing a historical tree to get to his bedroom window, either.
Ah, the conflicts of life.
How familiar he was with them.
He stood up and opened the window again. He glanced down at the girl, who was still climbing the tree, and he realized how terribly thin her form was. Her eyes were shadowed as well, and her breathing was ragged.
Yami clapped the windowsill to get her attention, then mouthed ‘be right back,’ before he disappeared back into his room.
He grabbed a portion of food off a plate his father had presumably left for him since he missed breakfast, and a bottle of water beside it. It wasn’t much, he realized, but it would be like a feast to that desperate, starving girl. He wished he could do more, but his father didn’t want him messing with the peasants’ affairs.
He reached the window again to see that the girl was almost completely up the thick trunk.
“Hey,” He called to the girl.
She nearly fell out of the tree in surprise. When she turned to him, he stretched out his arm with the provisions as far as he could.
“I got something for you,” He whispered once she got closer. “Share some with your friends, all right?”
She nodded vigorously, slowly taking the food and water and tucking them into a pocket.
As she started to descend, he called her again.
“What’s your name?” He asked, smiling kindly.
She stared at him with big eyes, her breathing coming fast before her reply. After a long pause, she spoke.
“Ren,” She rasped. “My name is Ren.”
He paused before he responded. “Well, farewell, Ren. Good luck.”
She nodded nervously before continuing her brisk path down the Old Oak. When she reached the bottom, she held up the things he had given her to the four other girls, and they split the buttered bread between them before ravenously devouring every crumb.
Yami laughed so hard he hit the floor.
It felt good to help that girl.
He watched as they disappeared over the hill towards the peasant village, smiling. Maybe he could sneak them more food the next time they came around.
He spent the next fifteen minutes carefully preparing himself in his room, taking off his night tunic to replace it with a regal velvet tunic with a long cloak draped over his shoulders. He snarfed down the rest of his stale breakfast and placed his prince's crown delicately on his head, frowning into the mirror.
Despite dressing like it, he never felt like Royalty. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t enjoy it either.
He sighed. Sometimes he wondered if being a peasant would’ve been better than the heavy responsibilities of being in the Royal line. So many people wished they had been born into the Royal Family, but they never understood how hard it was to bear.
The haunting time was approaching, as his birthday, when he would be forced to pick a Queen. The constant work of boring meetings and paperwork. And the weight of his family’s legendary lineage as the Great Fox Spirits.
He pushed away the thoughts, forcing himself to keep smiling.

*

“Ah, there you are, Prince Yami,” The priest’s voice echoed clearly around the castle’s main private meeting room, available only to the King’s most trusted and important people in the Kingdom.
Yami bowed his head in respect without a word before settling into the chair next to his father’s throne, which towered threateningly over his advisors, his posture slightly slouched.
His father noticed and gave him a questioning look.
Yami stiffened and sat up straight, forcing his face to an emotionless stare. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and his heart pounded with anticipation.
The King looked back at his audience before him.
The King scratched his chin before speaking. “I believe we’re all here,” he thundered. “So let’s get to why I called this meeting.”
It wasn’t often the King called meetings. He often decided to run the kingdom his own way without the guidance of his councillors.
Yami looked around the room at the other attendants, his heart dropping into his stomach at the sight of Delila, his stepmother. She was deliberately avoiding his gaze, her soft brown eyes narrowed and focused firmly ahead. She always acted like he didn’t exist.
Delila had wanted to marry the King since Yami’s grandfather had died and passed the throne onto his son, but he had chosen Yami’s mother instead. Delila had been the only one who hadn’t come to their wedding or the celebration for Yami’s birth, insisting that she had been ill at the time.
When the King’s wife had passed away, he had been broken over grief for several months, secluded in his personal room most of the time, seldom leaving, only for meetings. Meals had been brought to his room by the servants.
When Delila finally had the chance to speak with him, she comforted him and told him it was best to move on and look towards the future. His father had agreed it was the best choice and married her shortly after.
Delila had always despised Yami since the second he opened his eyes. He bore more resemblance to his birth mother, with his dark gray hair and icy blue eyes. And now that she was expecting, she paid even less attention to him than before. When Yami was around her, he was curt and respectful, but inside his heart ached.
Today, Delila wore a silky cream-colored gown, jewels encrusted on the frills of her sleeves. Lavender stone earrings hung from her earlobes with gold lining, catching the light shining through the large window. Her lipstick was painted on thick, to the point it was almost extreme. She threw back her hair in an elegant flourish, sending the shiny black strands flying behind her. Yami looked away.
She always favored beauty over anything else. Even family.
He scanned the rest of the room, almost missing the sight of the mysterious man hiding behind one of the pillars holding up the roof. He stared at him, his eyes narrowing, but he decided not to tell anyone. But it made him feel uncomfortable knowing someone was watching.
“It’s come to my knowledge that there is a rebel group rising against our kingdom,” The King raised his voice. “They’re goal is to cause strife among our people to steal the kingdom for themselves and their group.”
Yami leaned forward. Why had he never heard of this until now?
“We have no choice but to fight them back.” The King said, his voice hard. “Anyone who knows more about them must share with me.” He paused as his advisors rose from their seats. His eyes turned dark with malice. “And if I find anyone has been betraying any secrets of ours, they will be banished or killed. That is all. If you have anything you want to tell me, now would be the time.”
Movement flickered at the edge of Yami’s vision, and his eyes darted to where the man had stood behind the pillar.
Except he wasn’t there anymore.
“Your Majesty!” The priest called, his voice urgent. “Someone unauthorized is leaving the room!”
Yami jumped out of his seat, spotting the man dashing out of the meeting room.
“Capture him!” His father roared, lifting himself from the throne and drawing a long, sleek black blade from its sheath at his side.
Yami rushed after the man, more than ten soldiers right behind him. The King stayed in the back, steadily following them, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Yami’s boots clacked against the marble floor as he dashed faster. He had to reach the man. He needed to ask him what he was doing here before the guards killed him. Peasants walking around the castle halls halted and screamed at the sight of the man running past, dropping their things with a loud clatter on the ground.
The man threw something against a nearby window, shattering it to pieces at contact. Glass rained on Yami and the soldiers, but he ignored it, pushing his legs harder as he finally began to catch up to him.
“Stop!” Yami yelled to him. “I need to talk to you!”
The man ignored him, panting heavily and gaining more speed, his feet skimming over the ground.
Eventually, they reached the main gate to the Royal Castle. Two guards in gleaming metal armor stood at the entrance, spears crossed over the door.
The man halted. The guards stiffened and advanced on him like predator and prey. When they were only a few feet away, the man threw out a strange device he had pulled from his pocket and launched it at the main gate. It latched onto the door, and time seemed to slow, and it flashed red, beeping loudly.
Yami’s gasp came out as more of a squeak before he and the guards were thrown back against the walls, dust and smoke rising, covering the scene. Yami coughed, wood chips and glass scattered around him. The air was coated with a thick cloud of smoke, making it hard to breathe. After the cloud cleared. Yami scanned the area for the man.
He was gone.
Yami quickly stood up, assessing the damage done. There was a massive, gaping hole where the entrance gate used to be, and the walls surrounding it were blasted apart. The soldiers kneeled on the ground, shaking and violently coughing. Peasant bodies were sprawled across the ground, some unmoving, some quivering and bleeding.
Yami vowed to check on them later, then stood up, slightly dizzy from the explosion. He dashed out of the gap in the walls, ignoring the stinging pain in his leg. He spotted the man in the distance just as six more soldiers came out of the castle behind Yami. They rushed at the man, who seemed to be speaking to himself. They were only a few seconds behind him before they halted when the man exploded into a cloud of brown and black feathers. A bird rose from the cloud moments after with a resounding screech as it flapped its wings and launched itself higher into the sky, out of reach.
Yami stood there in shock, his mouth open and gaping. Feathers slowly descended from the sky, landing on the grass below.
That was when something hard hit Yami in the head. He flinched and yelped, the object tumbling into his hands.
It was the necklace the man had been wearing.