In the grandeur of the Solarius Palace's opulent hall, the air hummed with anticipation. The former Queen, Cyrus’ mother, draped in resplendent regalia that shimmered like the sun's rays, stood before her successor now letting his shoulder go. The assembly, a tapestry of nobles, advisors, and dignitaries, awaited this sacred moment, a transfer of power encapsulated in a ceremony steeped in tradition and honor. Cyrus could feel his nerves building and it made him want to jump from the first window he saw and run.
Unsure whispers could be heard, questioning the legitimacy of the new soon to be Queen regarding his gender. His mother was noticing none of this while her attention was on grabbing the golden sash from his father’s hands. Cyrus could feel his anxiety rising and he had to think of something, anything to calm himself down. The former Queen approached the new heir, holding the sash that was formerly hers. Each step towards Cyrus echoed through the hallowed hall, reverberating in his head. His vision felt shaky.
Shit. I’m going to pass out, this is it. I’m going to pass out and everyone is going to see it happen and I’m going to ruin this whole thing.
I can’t do this.
I can’t do this.
Cyrus forced a shaky smile as the former Queen placed the sash around him, the room fell into a hushed reverence. The glimmering sash settled upon the new Queen's shoulder.
With grace and regal poise, the former Queen bestowed words of wisdom and guidance upon the newly crowned monarch. She spoke of duty, sacrifice, and the privilege of serving the kingdom—a mantle passed through generations, each sovereign etching their mark upon the annals of time. For Cyrus everything was being tuned out, he couldn’t focus on anything his mom was saying, he could only hear the hushed disapproval from the guests, his own heart beat, and…his lack of breathing.
Cyrus forced a shaky smile as the former Queen placed the sash around him, the room fell into a hushed reverence. The glimmering sash settled upon the new Queen's shoulder.
With grace and regal poise, the former Queen bestowed words of wisdom and guidance upon the newly crowned monarch. She spoke of duty, sacrifice, and the privilege of serving the kingdom—a mantle passed through generations, each sovereign etching their mark upon the annals of time. For Cyrus everything was being tuned out, he couldn’t focus on anything his mom was saying, he could only hear the hushed disapproval from the guests, his own heart beat, and…
I have to breathe, come on body please! Don’t do this to me!
He felt his legs weaken from under himself when his mother almost knowingly brought him into a hug.
“You’re okay, breathe, everything will be fine…”
Cyrus sucked in a deep breath through his nose, the sweet scent of his mothers perfume filling his nose and reminding him that he wasn’t alone in this. His mother pulled away with a kind but worried smile. All Cyrus could do was nod back, but he felt better, for now. He knew what she was thinking even if she didn’t want to say it.
Don’t screw this up Cyrus. This is all harder than it has to be as is.
Cyrus, the new Queen, with humility, acknowledged the honor bestowed upon him. His voice, though quiet, carried the resolve of a thousand suns. He expressed gratitude for the former Queen's guidance, pledging to walk the path laid out by his predecessor, to rule with fairness, compassion, and unwavering dedication to his people. No one would know that he was ready to collapse under the pressure, but that was just Cyrus cool on the surface; everything underneath was no one’s business.
As the solemn words faded into the expanse of the hall, a thunderous applause erupted. The cheers echoed through the palace, a testament to the seamless transition of power and the commencement of a new era under the reign of the newly crowned Queen.
Erebus finished his fifth drink quietly to the side sitting wide-legged in a chair as the festivities proceeded after the ceremony. He had lost track of his siblings long ago and now wanted nothing more than to go home.
Well at least he did until he saw a certain uncomfortable new Queen making his rounds with the guests. What’s the point of drinking if you’re not going to use your newfound liquid courage?
In the wake of the ceremony, amidst the vibrant celebratory atmosphere within the grand hall, Cyrus felt the weight of his new title more heavily than ever before. While he attempted to maintain a composed exterior, his mind was a whirlwind of discomfort and uncertainty. His friends, Aurora and Fang, noticed the unease creeping across his face, exchanging concerned glances among themselves. They gently approached him, attempting to offer solace in the midst of the jubilant festivities.
"Cyrus, are you all right?"
Aurora's voice was soft, her concern evident as she observed the discomfort in her friend's eyes. Fang, normally upbeat and full of energy being sixteen and all, now wore a concerned expression.
"You did great up there, Cyrus. Really, you have nothing to worry about."
Fang’s attempt at reassurance held a hint of uncertainty. Cyrus offered them a tight-lipped smile, grateful for their support but unable to shake off the sense of unease that plagued him. The remarks whispered among the guests regarding his gender felt like a cloud hanging over his moment of triumph. Just as the trio tried to regain their composure, former queen Solicia, Cyrus’ mother, approached with a radiant smile and enveloped him in a motherly embrace. Her voice, warm and comforting, aimed to ease his apprehensions.
"My dear Cyrus, you've handled this beautifully. Trust in yourself, my love. You'll grow into this role with grace."
Despite his mother's reassuring words, Cyrus couldn't escape the lingering discomfort. The glances from the guests, the undertones of disapproval, intensified the internal struggle within him. The festivities continued, yet Cyrus felt increasingly stifled amidst the revelry. He sought solace in the periphery of the ballroom, his gaze drifting through the opulence, but his thoughts elsewhere, clouded by the weight of the label of queen now resting upon his shoulders. The jubilation surrounding his crowning, once a moment of pride and honor, had become a mixed tapestry of emotions, pride tainted by discomfort, joy interspersed with doubt, and the beginning of his reign shadowed by the disapproval of those around him.
In the midst of the Solarius Palace's grand celebration, Cyrus found himself cornered by a flirtatious noble, a royal from a neighboring kingdom. The individual, a dashing figure adorned in luxurious attire, oozed charm and self-assurance as they sidled up to the newly crowned Queen.
"Well, hello there, Your Highness!"
The noble's voice dripped with a honeyed tone, their smile teeming with an overabundance of confidence. Cyrus, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, offered a polite but reserved nod.
"Good evening."
The noble leaned in closer, his gaze lingering far longer than comfortable.
"I must say, the rumors didn’t do you justice. You're even more stunning in person."
A flicker of annoyance crossed Cyrus’ features, quickly concealed behind a diplomatic smile.
"Ah, thank you for the kind words. But might I ask what I owe this unexpected flattery?"
The noble's eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Oh, just admiring the view, Your Majesty. It's not every day one sees a Queen quite as... intriguing. Especially after the rumors of how you will be able to have heirs...Is it true that you have-"
Putting a finger up to cut the royal short, Cyrus' smile tightened, his tolerance waning as the conversation took a turn he found increasingly uncomfortable.
"I would rather not talk about my…er, private matters and while I do try to keep things interesting, I would prefer to keep my tricks up my sleeve. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
His tone was sharp, the thinly veiled sarcasm unmistakable. The noble raised an eyebrow, seemingly oblivious to the shift in Cyrus’ demeanor.
"Of course, Your Majesty. Do call upon me if you find yourself... intrigued by me."
With a flirtatious wink, He sauntered away, leaving Cyrus suppressing an exasperated sigh. As the noble disappeared into the crowd, Cyrus rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath.
“Yes, because I want to find out just how weird your questions can get about how I have children…just what I needed tonight.”
His tone was tinged with sarcasm, his annoyance evident. Adjusting his regal posture, he turned his attention back to the festivities, determined to steer clear of any further uncomfortable encounters. However, he just couldn’t shake the weird royal he just met, was that really what people thought about him? Looking behind himself at the direction of the royal he continued to mutter to himself.
“Besides, who would find someone like you- Oof!”
Until he collided with something very solid, causing him to wince.
Cyrus glanced up to see a familiar dark-clad royal, dressed entirely in black, with deep purple skin. The man bore a resemblance to him but with a slightly more robust physique compared to Cyrus's slender, runner's build. The prince noticed the dark royal's long, light blue wavy hair, half of it pulled back into a bun while a single lock of white hair hung in front of his face, giving him a more relaxed appearance. Yet, what stood out most was the large burn scar maring one side of his face, running from his lower jaw to his neck, exposing unnaturally sharp canine and incisor teeth. However, the other side of his face appeared unblemished.
Cyrus spoke aloud.
"Intriguing…"
Shit.
Keeping a fixed gaze on the dark counterpart standing in front of him. Meanwhile, the nebulous man dusted off his chest, his black tunic and red and gold leather vest corset stretching elegantly over his moderately broader physique, accentuating the contours of his muscles. As he fixed his black gloves, he glanced at a slightly star struck Cyrus and spoke in a mocking tone.
"Sorry?”
Erebus was taken aback by the odd word choice from Cyrus. Not really knowing what to say at the currently gawking Queen, he immediately went on the defensive.
Is he making fun of me?
“Do you have a staring problem 'Princess'?"
Erebus bent forward to confront the stunned Queen face-to-face. Cyrus, a little less shocked now and a tad more annoyed at the “princess” remark that seemed really familiar, backed up, crossing his arms and sporting a smirk.
"Firstly, that's Queen to you. Second my apologies for staring…its not every day I see a guy with half his face missing."
His cocky tone, a shift of his hips, queen or not who did he think he was?
The golden royal noticed the other's eye twitch, a clear sign that he'd found the right button to push. At least that's what Cyrus thought before he was suddenly grabbed by the front of his golden split tunic, stumbling backwards a little before being pulled closer to the darker one, a fistful of fabric now in Erebus gloved hand, before being forcefully pushed to the ground as onlookers began to gather. Just what Cyrus needed.
"Still as bold and abrasive as ever I see. You’ve always been so oblivious to everyone around you, I bet you don’t even know who is standing in front of you right now."
Erebus sneered harshly, though his eyes betrayed a hint of deeper emotion than his venomous words implied. He shoved an unsuspecting bystander, causing a small yelp, as they stumbled into another person, clearing his exit from the gathering crowd in the ballroom. With one hand in his pocket, Erebus made his way to a different part of the room, leaving Cyrus helped up by a concerned passerby, still trying to comprehend the mystery surrounding this familiar yet enigmatic figure.
"General Erebus, him and his Finis people should have never come if he’s going to act like that."
An elven woman muttered between gritted teeth while helping Cyrus to his feet.
Cyrus glanced at the woman, gently pulling his arm away, and asked.
"Did you say General Erebus? Like…third son of the Grimwood royal family?"
He looked over at the lilac-colored woman, his eyes reflecting a sudden realization.
Before she could respond, Cyrus quickly redirected his attention in the direction Erebus had walked off to.
"No... that, that can't be him."
he murmured, running his hand through his golden hair in contemplation, pushing it out of his face.
Erie…no, that can't be the same kid. Right?
The revelation sparked a whirlwind of thoughts in Cyrus's mind. Memories from the past intermingled with the present. He felt a tug at the strings of familiarity but couldn't fathom how the once-familiar figure of Erebus could be the same person who just stormed off. As he gathered his thoughts, Cyrus scanned the room, his gaze fixating on the spot where Erebus had walked off. Questions swirled in his mind, demanding answers that seemed to slip further away with each passing moment as he watched the crowd start to swallow up the path Erebus carved.
“Cyrus?”
A concerned but friendly voice broke through his thoughts and he looked back to see a worried Fang, his tan tail hanging between his legs as he towered over the golden royal, his blue eyes not meeting Cyrus’.
“A-are you okay? I know everything is kind of overwhelming, but I just want you to tell me…we are best friends after all…right?”
The younger wolf looked at the new Queen with a sort of uncertainty, it could be that he was worried that becoming Queen would pull the two apart, they were basically inseparable when they were placed together. The young wolf considered the other an older brother and couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him. Cyrus gave a wry smile, knowing exactly why the young wolf was acting the way he was. The new Queen took this chance to jump up to pull the tall wolf down to his height just to ruffle his head fur.
“Of course, you’re my little brother and I would tell you if something was bothering me, promise…’
The royal trailed off a little letting the wolf go with a side glance towards where Erebus stormed off.
“So then what is it?”
Fang said with a confused tone, looking in the direction his older counterpart was staring at.
“If you have something to do you should just go do it before it's too late.”
Cyrus looked back at the wolf, a small look of shock on his face at what the Lycan said. He knew that the young wolf didn’t know what he was looking at or better yet who, but he was right. Cyrus flashed a quick smile at the wolf before speeding off into the crowd, startling some and knocking over the same bystander that Erebus pushed with a gust of wind that he left behind.
The wolf just stood there before the red dragon girl came up next to him, her mouth full of food and a plate of snacks in her hand.
“Hu ran awf, din ee…”
The dragon barely said while stuffing another pastry in her mouth staring in the direction Cyrus ran in.
“Yeah…”
The young wolf replied, stealing a pastry off the dragon’s plate before popping the small cake in his mouth and walking away.
“Hey!”
Aurora looked in disbelief at her plate then at the wolf before chasing him down.
In the back of the ballroom was a set of double glass doors that led to a large balcony, the gold royal looked around frantically before noticing the dark figure standing on the other side of them. He mentally sighed in relief before grabbing the doors and opening them, the cool night air rushing into his lungs felt nice, this was what he had been wanting all night.
“So you insult me and now you’re stalking me?”
The dark purple skinned royal turned around leaning against the guardrail, his arms crossed over his chest, one leg slightly behind him while the other was out to brace him against the rail. His hair gently moved from the slight breeze, and the silver moon light highlighting his features. His garnet eyes stared daggers at Cyrus’.
Cyrus swallowed hard before looking around and closing the doors behind him. He was out here, but he didn’t exactly know what he was expecting, or what to say after their little exchange in the ballroom. Cyrus looked away still walking towards the rail, taking his place next to the dark royal who was now not looking at him either. Cyrus gave a soft cough, clearing his throat which now felt oddly tight like he ate something that he couldn’t swallow.
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“I’m uh…sorry. I didn’t mean to, well…I did but I didn’t realize it would get to you like that.”
He fiddled with a leaf from the rose garland that was on the outside of the rail before looking up at the more serious royal who just stayed quiet still leaning his back against the rail but looking towards the landscape that was vast and expansive from this view.
Cyrus took a deep breath, hesitating as he stepped closer. “Look, I know you probably think I’m a jerk. But… I had to see for myself. To know if it was really you… Erie.”
Erebus’s gaze was unreadable, his eyes cold yet turbulent, betraying nothing of the storm of confused emotions raging inside him. Turning away he fixed his eyes on the distant horizon.
“Hm… Erie,” he echoed, his voice carrying the weight of past memories. “I haven’t heard you call me that since we were kids.”
Cyrus gave a small, tentative smile, brushing a wild lock of hair out of his face. “Well, we haven’t seen each other since we were, what, nine?”
Erebus let out a soft, bitter scoff. “I was nine. You were eight. And you’re the one who left. I waited for you at the docks… every day.”
Cyrus's smile faltered, replaced by a pained expression. “I didn’t leave you… Not by choice, anyway. Things happened and…I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore after you stopped coming.”
He looked at the golden royal who was now finally looking at him, all of the shine in his green eyes replaced with concern and regret. The general slowly sat up from his laxed position and looked at the other with curiosity.
“But nevermind me…what happened to your…”
Cyrus stepped closer, his hand trembling slightly as he reached toward the scar on Erebus's face. Erebus, ever guarded, caught Cyrus’s wrist with unexpected gentleness, the cool leather of his glove a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch. It startled them both, the rare softness in his grip. Gently brushing his bandaged finger tips over the sensitive skin of the other, Cyrus could feel the muscle and scar tissue the formed there, the exposed animalistically sharp teeth. Erebus didn’t flinch; he didn’t push him away. Instead, his grip softened, until he was merely cradling Cyrus’s hand, holding it with a care that belied the hardened warrior he had become.
“I had to grow up… and… things happen on the warfront…”
Erebus’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as though he feared that speaking any louder would shatter the fragile connection between them. The usual commanding depth of his tone softened, allowing the other to continue caressing his face, which now felt warmer than it had in years.
“Warfront?” Cyrus’s brow furrowed, confusion clear in his voice. The last he’d heard, there were no wars. His thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the shift in his old friend.
Erebus gave a small nod, his jaw tightening as memories flickered through his mind, dark and unresolved. He forced himself to breathe, realizing only then that he’d been holding his breath. The proximity of the other, now just inches away, brought his focus back to the present. He noticed a light pink tinge spreading across the white birthmark that covered the upper half of Cyrus’s face, a subtle blush that matched the warmth in his own cheeks.
Erebus couldn’t read the other’s thoughts, but those gentle, expressive emerald eyes—once so transparent—now held something hidden, something he desperately wanted to understand. For the first time in years, he found himself yearning to know what was going on behind those eyes, to break through the walls that time and distance had erected between them.
After all these years…what do you think about me now?
Cyrus, almost as if he could read Erebus’s thoughts, let his hand trail down the scar on Erebus’s neck. The touch was light, barely there, yet it sent a shiver through Erebus’s body. The darker royal let out a sound he didn’t even know he was capable of, a soft, vulnerable noise that shocked him to his core. Embarrassment flooded him, a fierce heat rising to his cheeks as he swiftly backed away, putting space between them. He covered his mouth with his hand, turning his head to hide his face, cursing himself for the betrayal of his own body.
Cyrus stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock as his own blush deepened, the color spreading across his cheeks. “U-um, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I don’t know what I was thinking,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his head nervously. The silence between them was thick with unspoken emotions, each struggling to find the right words.
Erebus, still reeling from the unexpected reaction, said nothing as he busied himself adjusting his gloves, his gaze firmly averted from the golden boy. His heart pounded in his chest, anger and embarrassment warring within him.
“You should go back to the party,” Erebus said curtly, his voice cold and distant, a stark contrast to the warmth of moments ago. “I don’t want anyone thinking I did something to you.”
With that, he turned on his heel, heading for the double doors, his steps quick and determined, desperate to escape the situation.
“Wait!” Cyrus’s voice cut through the air, filled with urgency. He reached out, grabbing Erebus’s hand, his grip firm yet pleading. His expression was a mix of desperation and resolve, as if he had a hundred things to say but didn’t know where to start. Erebus turned back to him, his face set in a mask of slight frustration, though beneath it all, a storm of emotions churned.
“Let’s race,” Cyrus said, his voice trembling slightly but carrying a note of determination. “Like old times. But if I win… you have to tell me what happened after you stopped coming to the docks.”
Erebus pulled his hand away, his face still marked with agitation, before letting out an exasperated sigh. His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to face Cyrus.
“Are you seriously challenging me tonight, of all nights?” Erebus’s tone was sharp, a mix of annoyance and disbelief.
Cyrus’s lips curled into a confident smile, an air of defiance sparking in his eyes. “When else would I get a chance like this?” His voice carried a playful challenge, the usual competitive tension between them simmering just beneath the surface.
Erebus scoffed, his expression shifting to one of smug amusement. “I’d hate to embarrass you on the night of your coronation.” He refused to look directly at Cyrus, his gaze fixed on some distant point, as if dismissing the challenge as a trivial matter.
Cyrus stepped in front of him, blocking his view and meeting his eyes head-on. “Yeah right, I always used to beat you.” he teased, hands on his hips, his grin as cocky as it was infectious. “Unless, of course, you’re scared to lose.” The words were a taunt, laced with nostalgia and a hint of affection.
Erebus crossed his arms, an unimpressed look settling on his face. “What do I get if I win?” he asked, his voice flat, hiding the curiosity that flickered beneath the surface.
Cyrus tilted his head, tapping his chin as he thought, his eyes darting around as if searching for inspiration. After a moment, he shrugged, unable to come up with anything that might genuinely pique the darker royal’s interest.
“I dunno, what do you want?”
“How about… I get to train you,” Erebus suggested, his tone turning serious.
“Now that you’re Queen, and given your kingdom’s tradition of sending its rulers to the front lines, you could use some real training,” Erebus said, his voice edged with a mix of concern and challenge. “I know you’re rusty. And… we could spar, like we used to. You were the only one who could ever keep up with me.” His tone was casual, almost matter-of-fact, but beneath it lay a deeper current—an unspoken desire to stay close, to reconnect through the familiar rhythms of combat.
Cyrus’s eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the offer. He studied Erebus for a moment, trying to decipher the true motive behind his words. But he couldn’t find anything that made sense, so he pushed the thought aside, nodding with a small, resigned shrug.
“Alright, deal.”
Erebus remained stoic, but a flicker of relief crossed his face. What he hadn’t said, what he kept buried deep within, was that the thought of being away from his kingdom, from the weight of his siblings’ expectations, offered him a fleeting sense of peace. And without a war to fight, there was little for him to do there anyway. This challenge, trivial as it might seem, was an opportunity, a brief escape, a moment of freedom.
“But if you win, don’t expect me to go easy on you in training.” Cyrus nudged Erebus playfully, flashing a smile and a wink. Erebus responded with a scoff and an eye roll, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Without warning, Erebus subtly waved his hand, summoning shadows that twisted and melded at his command. Cyrus let out a startled yelp as the shadows wrapped around them, an otherworldly shroud that transported them through the palace corridors with an eerie, fluid grace. The dark tendrils moved with an uncanny ease, passing through walls and barriers as if they were mere illusions. In the blink of an eye, they stood at the palace gates, the moonlit night casting a silvery glow over the grand courtyard. The palace loomed behind them, a silent sentinel in the darkness. Cyrus stumbled slightly, disoriented from the rapid journey, while Erebus remained unfazed, his familiarity with the shadows evident.
“What was that? When did you learn to use–”
“It’s not magic… well, not exactly,” Erebus cut him off, his tone clipped. Cyrus’s curiosity flared, but before he could press further, a wave of unspoken concern washed over him.
What happened to you Erie?
Erebus’s voice snapped him back to the present. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s been a long time since we raced through that forest. I don’t know what’s in there now, and I’d rather not be responsible for bringing back the Queen’s limp body. I’ve got a violent enough reputation as it is.” His words carried a mix of challenge and genuine concern, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Cyrus’s distracted expression.
Cyrus shook off his thoughts, running his fingers through his hair as a cocky grin spread across his face. “Well I know whats in there and its just trees. You think I stopped going into that forest after you disappeared?” he retorted, stretching casually, though the underlying tension was evident. Erebus’s gaze sharpened, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he took in the slightly shorter royal.
“What? You thought I’d just wait around for you?” Cyrus teased, his voice light, but the underlying hurt was palpable. Erebus responded with a shove, the banter momentarily masking the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.
“Isn’t that what princesses do?” Erebus quipped, a smirk playing on his lips. Before Cyrus could react, Erebus summoned the shadows once more, their dark tendrils coiling around them with swift precision. The world blurred again as they were propelled forward, the shadows carrying them beyond the palace grounds, past the familiar boundaries of Solarius, toward the outskirts and the waiting forest.
Their surroundings shifted from the manicured palace gardens to untamed wilderness. As the shadows released their hold, Cyrus and Erebus found themselves at the edge of the enchanted forest, its entrance beckoning like an ancient enigma.
The violet forest, bathed in the ethereal glow of luminescent flora, invited them in like a siren’s call. Towering trees adorned with bioluminescent leaves cast a surreal light, their soft glow illuminating the forest floor, which was covered in moss that emitted a gentle, almost magical radiance. The scene was both beautiful and otherworldly, as if nature itself were welcoming the two royals into its mystical embrace.
Cyrus and Erebus exchanged a glance—Cyrus with his usual cocky smile, Erebus cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck in preparation. Under the silvery glow of the Solarius night, the woods came alive, shimmering with an eerie yet mesmerizing luminescence. Cyrus’s emerald eyes gleamed in the moonlight as he grinned confidently. “You ready for this, Erebus?” His voice dripped with playful challenge.
Erebus’s garnet eyes reflected the ambient glow as he smirked back. “Always.” With a flick of his wrist, a wisp of purple smoke curled from his hands—eerie yet whimsical, a manifestation of his power. The air vibrated with anticipation as they positioned themselves for the race.
"Ready-"
Cyrus smiled over at Erebus as if he had already won, who scoffed at the sight keeping his sights on the forest ahead of them.
"Set-"
He could feel the tension ready to release from his muscles, like a coil winding up ready to break loose. The gentle wind blowing his messy locks, the last second feeling like eternity.
"Go!"
They shot forward, weaving through the glowing flora. Cyrus, a blur of golden light, darted through the woods, the world seemingly paused all around him frozen just long enough for him to take the moment in. He vaulted over fallen logs, flipped effortlessly over glowing shrubs, and zigzagged between the luminescent trees, his laughter ringing out as the thrill of the race filled him.
Erebus, shrouded in shadows, matched him stride for stride. He teleported from one shadowy cloud to another, appearing like a wraith, using the momentum to propel him forwards. Not many could keep up with Cyrus. Erebus found this nostalgic and reminisced on how he would have been fighting just to keep up a decade ago, he finally saw why Cyrus always wanted to race him even if he knew Erebus would lose. It wasn't just wining that was fun, it was the path to the finish line, moving naturally through the forest as if it was moving with you. As Erebus passed though each clouded portal the vibrant colors of the woods exploded into his vision, in one of those moments he saw Cyrus smiling wildly as he passed him snapping Erebus back into what was really going on. The competition between them was fierce, and the air buzzed with their playful rivalry. As they raced side by side, their banter echoed through the enchanting forest.
"C’mon, Erebus! You’re gonna let a few trees slow you down?" Cyrus' voice was light and teasing.
Erebus chuckled, a dark undertone in his voice. "Don’t speak too soon, Cyrus." With a sly smirk, Erebus teleported ahead, appearing just in front of Cyrus, causing him to slam into a tree that Erebus had obscured from view.
“No fair, Erie!"
The golden royal basically peeled himself off the tree and quickly caught up to Erebus, who was grinning wickedly.
“What’s wrong, princess? Did a tree slow you down?” Erebus quipped, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight as he launched himself off a tree, tearing his sleeve in the process but too caught up in the moment to care. The rush of the race, the night air, the adrenaline. It was intoxicating, and he was relishing it. Neither would say it but both hadn’t felt this free in years. Most of all Erebus missed this, the carefree thrill that came with spending time with Cyrus.
Cyrus noticed the grin on Erebus’s face, a rare sight that told him how much his old friend was enjoying this. There was something in that look, a fleeting but powerful connection that went beyond the race itself, a silent understanding that only deepened as they continued.
The luminescent plants seemed to pulse with energy as they sped through the night, the forest responding to their presence, its glow intensifying with every step. As they neared the climax of their race, the pair approached a moonlit clearing. Cyrus pushed off a tree and vaulted into the air, while Erebus used his shadows to give him one final shove appearing just beside Cyrus, a knowing smirk on his lips.
In perfect sync, they crossed the imaginary finish line, their chests heaving with exhilaration. The night seemed to hold its breath, the only sounds the soft rustling of leaves and the echo of their laughter hanging in the air. The forest, having witnessed their playful rivalry, returned to its tranquil glow, a silent guardian of their race.
With shallow breaths, Cyrus plopped down on his back in the bluegrass, light bugs swirling around him, this being the first time he felt genuinely out of breath. Erebus followed suit, letting out a deep sigh as he sat beside the golden royal. As their breaths steadied, Cyrus broke the silence, “Tie?”
Erebus nodded. “Yeah, I’d say so… even though I feel like I won.” Cyrus let out a sarcastic laugh and propped himself up on his elbows.
“So, when does training start? Aaand~ you owe me a storytime.” The golden boy looked up at Erebus with a wide smile.
“One thing at a time, princess. Besides, I have to collect my things from my place first.” Erebus swatted a light bug away from his face with a wave of his hand. Cyrus cocked his head to the side, slightly confused. “You mean you’re going to come stay here? With me? You could at least take me to dinner before you sleep over.”
Erebus looked down at Cyrus before shoving him, causing him to roll over. “Ah! I’m kidding, jeez, Erie!”
"We should probably get going before they start to think I kidnapped you."
Erebus spoke quietly almost to himself. Cyrus shrugged as he looked up admiring the stars.
"They'll be fine. Tomorrow they'll have me all to themselves, I think they'll survive without me for a while."
...
Back at the palace a very distressed Fang frantically flung open doors to parts of the palace that he thought Cyrus would have left to, specifically the areas around the kitchen and pantry. He check the closets, the cabinets, under tables. Fang racked his brain trying to think of where the newly crowned queen could have possibly gone.
"C'mon Cyrus, give me a break here, I just got this job and I already lost track of you."
Fang spoke through a clenched jaw partially blaming himself for not following his brother. He just prayed that Cyrus didn't do anything stupid, making his way towards the door he tried again to remember what happened before Cyrus ran off, what made him run off. "Wait...didn't he leave towards the-"Aurora slammed open a door gaining a yelp from Fang who was just about to grab the handle. Fang stood there wide eyed before Aurora broke the awkward silence, "Well?"
"W-well what?" Fang stuttered still trying to get over the sudden entrance.
"Where's Cyrus?!" Aurora couldn't hold back her frustration at this point expecting at least Fang to have found something. "Aren't you a wolf? You can't smell where he is?" Fang let that sentence hang in the air a little longer than Aurora liked.
"That's racist." Fang said with a deadpan stare.
"Racist?! You're a damn wolf!"
"I know but still, you only assume that because I'm a wolf."
"That's a stereotype then and even so-"
"Can you breath fire just because you're a dragon?"
"YES!"
"Well good for you, now move I need to find his scent." Fang spoke with an air of sarcasm before pushing Aurora out of the door way.
"Wait so you...Ugh! Hurry up!"
...
Cyrus was going on about something that Erebus had completely lost track of as the pair casually ran back, their pace slowed into a casual walk as they started to get closer to the palace. Cyrus laughed intermittently, while Erebus reminded Cyrus of some of the trouble they would get into at the harbor when they were younger. They entered the palace through a side entrance from the garden, only to be met by Fang and Aurora, who looked at them as if they had just seen ghosts.
“Cyrus! Oh thank the heavens! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Well, everyone has, but… what happened to you?” Fang's voice was full of concern. The sight of his older brother and the general of the neighboring kingdom had clearly shaken him.
Cyrus was a mess, his clothes covered in dust and dirt, his sash askew and hanging loosely from his shoulder, and his hair an untamed mess with twigs and leaves sticking out of it. His face was flushed from the run back, betraying his usual composed demeanor. Erebus, though slightly less disheveled, had a ripped sleeve and wind-whipped hair. Their uneven breaths and the suspicious glances they exchanged weren’t helping.
“Well? Are you going to explain yourselves?” Aurora demanded, her initial shock giving way to irritation as she crossed her arms.
Erebus barely suppressed a laugh as he glanced at Cyrus, fully taking in the state of his friend and rival. “We went for a, uh… walk around the grounds,” he said with a small smirk. He then stepped closer to Cyrus, adjusting the Queen’s sash before casually picking a twig out of his hair and tossing it aside. Cyrus’s blush deepened, his body betraying him at every turn this evening.
“Y-yes, a walk… um, I’m actually quite tired now.” Cyrus gave a faux yawn, hoping to deflect their suspicion and hurry the conversation along. “I think I’ll walk our guest here to the main gate.” He began to pull Erebus along, but Fang stepped in front of him, causing Erebus to bump into Cyrus from the sudden stop.
“I don’t think so… I’ll walk him there, and Aurora can escort you back to your chambers,” Fang said firmly, shooting Erebus a distrustful glare. Erebus rolled his eyes, blowing a strand of hair from his face, clearly disinterested in the conversation and more eager to find a bed. Despite himself, he admitted internally that he was glad he had come, though he’d never let his sister know that.
“Something funny?” Aurora asked sternly, noticing the stoic general’s smirk.
“Relax, lizard, I was actually going to agree. No one should see the Queen like this,” Erebus quipped, gesturing to the disheveled Cyrus, who was now looking more irritated at everyone treating him like he needed to be taken care of.
“Lizard?! I’ll have you know I–”
“I, on the other hand, can escort myself out. Thank you for your hospitality, your Highness.” Erebus stepped past Fang and Aurora, gently taking one of Cyrus’s hands and into his gloved one, Cyrus looked confused at Erebus not understanding where this was going until it was too late. With a mischievous grin, he kissed the back of it, his eyes never leaving Cyrus’s.
"We have to keep up appearances don't we?" Erebus whispered just loud enough for Cyrus's ears. The gold royal, now covering his eyes with his free hand, his entire face flushed with embarrassment as he gave a small nod. Fang and Aurora stood frozen, their bewildered expressions adding to Erebus’s amusement. The sly grin on his face remained as he realized just how much this moment would leave Cyrus to explain. "Good night, Your Majesty," he said in a low, teasing tone before strolling away.
Cyrus, now uncovering his face but still blushing furiously, let out a nervous chuckle. "I'll, um, explain everything later." he promised, glancing apologetically at his two friends.
As Erebus disappeared down the corridor, Fang snapped out of his daze, focusing his attention on the disheveled queen. "Cyrus, seriously, what happened? Why were you with the general in this state?"
Aurora, her face slightly flushed from witnessing the exchange, added hesitantly, “D-did you guys like… you know…”
“No!” Cyrus exclaimed, startling the other two. He scratched the back of his head, a sheepish smile creeping onto his face. "We, uh, went for a walk, like Erebus said. You know, catching up, old friends and all."
Aurora folded her arms, clearly skeptical. "A walk? You look like you just wrestled a bunch of wild animals."
Fang, still eyeing Cyrus suspiciously, finally sighed. "Fine, we won't press you right now, but you better spill the details later. And don’t think your friend is getting away with that little act either."
Cyrus, relieved they weren’t pushing further hooked arms with the two. "I swear I'll explain everything later but right now I would really like to take a bath."
As the trio made their way through the palace, Erebus, now more composed, happened upon his sister, Merosa, who had evidently witnessed the entire encounter. She raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him about the unexpected display. Erebus rolled his eyes, anticipating a similar grilling to what Cyrus had just endured. Before Merosa could speak, a drunken Styx stumbled out of a nearby closet with a servant girl, cutting off the impending interrogation.
“Oh… Erebus, you look like shit…” Styx slurred, swaying unsteadily. Without a word, Erebus grabbed his siblings and teleported home in a cloud of smoke.