As soon as Haetia’s snow-white skin and hair came into view through the trees, his father rushed forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“My little jewel! Oh, my Prince–Are you alright?!!” He frantically patted Haetia down until the child quickly grew tired of his coddling and pushed him away.

“No I’m not alright! That thing that’s a sorry excuse for a bodyguard almost got me killed! Look!”

Haetia shoved his arm into his father’s face, tapping at what looked like a streak of dirt, or a scratch if you stretched the definition.

On the other hand, his dad’s facial expression seemed to bounce between wanting to validate his son’s feelings by reprimanding Linias or calming down Haetia instead. Luckily for him Dharax, who was standing behind them with the maid who originally lost Haetia, spoke instead.

“Why don’t you leave things to me?”

Just glad to get out of the tense situation, Emmett looked between the group before frantically nodding, coddling his son one last time, and leaving.

Dharax sighed and shook his head, then refocused on the task at hand. “So, Young Master, do you mind explaining to me what happened? From the beginning.”

Instantly, Haetia went rapid fire, “Your stupid pupil is useless and careless and reckless and doesn’t know how to do his job! He tries to tell me what to do and because of it we ran into some monster thing and I could've died! I mean look!” He brandishes the same dust scratch as before. “DO you SEE THIS?!!! I’M RUINED!”

Finally reaching his limit, Linias snaps back at him, “What the hell are you talking about?! That’s not at all what happened! You went and got lost and almost got us BOTH killed by a manticore because you won’t listen to anybody!”

Haetia gasps, “WHAT! HOW DARE YOU!! DHARAX!!!” He whips to the minotaur for reassurance.

“Don’t worry Young Master, I’ll be sure to thoroughly punish him for his disrespect and incompetence, so please, head inside and have one of the nurses patch you up.”

Nose high in the air and filled with validation, the little pale prince prances into the vast home, letting Dharax take over once again.

“Dharax, he–!”

Linias was immediately met with a scalding sting as a constricted fist struck his cheek full force, the pain melding with the pre-existing pain of his maimed eye.

“It’s Sir to you. And who the fuck do you think you are to talk to him in such a way?”

The moment Linias opens his mouth to speak, he’s met with another strike, this time fierce enough to cause a falter in his footing.

“You’re only to speak when prompted, is that understood?”

“...Yes..Sir.” At this point, if he ignored the monumental blood loss any longer he wouldn’t be able to keep his consciousness afloat. He needed to treat his eye as soon as possible.

“You don’t think I know that he’s lying? He’s a spoiled brat but it’s your job to deal with that and put up with it. No matter what he does, no matter how wrong he may be, all YOU’RE supposed to do is shut your mouth and follow orders unless it puts his life at risk. You know what your mistake was here? Not watching him. Instead, you left it to some fucking maid to do your job for you. You’re supposed to be with him at all times of the day - What if that manticore attacked him and the maid so she didn’t get a chance to warn you? He would’ve died and it would’ve been your fault for not doing your job. Do you understand?”

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“Yes, Sir.” Linias clenched his fists as a way of redirecting his urge to rebuttal.

“Are you upset? You should be at your own failures. What kind of bodyguard let alone servant are you supposed to be if this is how you turnout after a fight and your master is frightened to hell? Are you understanding me?”

“I am, Sir.”

“No, you’re not. Brats your age always think you’re hot shit and don’t listen to anyone and always make the same mistakes, so here. Let me show you the consequences of your negligence today.”

In a sudden and swift motion, the minotaur snatches Cybel by her hair and throws her to the floor.

“P-please! I-I’m sorry it won’t happen again I-I-I swear!” She pleaded with tears forming in her eyes, glancing between the pair in desperation.

“You’re right, it won’t happen again. A life could’ve been lost here today, so that should be rectified. Right Linias?”

For the first time in his life he felt the weight of his self in his hands, stiff and unable to move.

He wanted him to kill her.

There were all sorts of intruders over the years human and non-human mythicals alike and still Linias never faltered, but this? She was just a maid, probably not too much older than him at that. Cybel’s anguishing sobs fell on deaf ears as her flooded face faded into obscurity; whether it was because of his injury overwhelming him or his emotions, he wasn’t sure. All he knew for certain was one thing.

It is his fault.

If he had just been with the Young Lord in the first place this would’ve never happened. Cybel wouldn’t be on the receiving end of his blade, nor would he have lost his right eye.

Through his turmoil a callous voice pierced through his thoughts and etched into his mind, “What are you waiting for? You’ve done this countless times before .”

But still, he could hardly muster his tremoring nerves together to even unlatch his weapon.

Do it.

How did he transform the bark again? Did he use magic to change it or did he ask? Was his weapon sentient? He couldn’t remember.

Do it!

How did he wield it again? Firm stance…Flexible hands? Or was it…

He could hear the rapid thundering of his heart and breaths muffling his ability to hear as they thrashed about in his head.

Thinking about it didn’t matter, his hands already moved into place, arms raised above his head.

DO IT!

His eye blinked in a slow close. It was over. But his rapid pants didn’t cease, his perspirations didn’t subside, and the aftermath of her leaking and still body didn’t disappear. He…killed her. Cybel. An innocent bystander that suffered from his actions. It’s his fault. It’s his fault It’s all his fault If he had just–If he just–

“I hope that you remember that manticores are near immortal, so it’ll be your responsibility to take care of it since I’m sure it’s not too happy about losing to you. Don’t ever let this happen again. You’re his bodyguard first and foremost and his servant second until the day you either die serving him or he dies because of your failures. Is that clear?”

His remaining silver and liquidating eye was hyper fixated on the bisected body before him. As if sculpted in place, her desolate cries would forever be worn on her severed visage, perpetually breathing life and therefore agony into her and Linias. Her muffled wails etched into his–

“I said, Is That Clear?”

Linias swallowed his heavy respirations and his distraught nerves down with it, uttering the clearest response he could muster, “Yes. Sir.”

“Stay here until the next break of dawn then go get your eye cleaned up, it’s disgusting. Bandage it for a month before you use magic so the pain will remind you of your ineptitude here today.”

The decapitated head was gazing upwards, right at him, as if about to speak. But it couldn’t, and never would be able to ever again. No thanks to him.

He couldn’t let this happen again. He wouldn’t. His duty was to Haetia, and this - Cybel - was an example of his failures. He didn’t have room to make mistakes. He was to safeguard Haetia, be Haetia’s to use, and obey Haetia’s every will, from now until his death in servitude.