40- LOBBY
“I don’t see why they had to move him here-”
“Shh! They’re going to hear you, idiot.”
“Enough.”
Fahari took a look at the wagon carrying the sleeping Prince.
Even asleep, the boy’s aura was flinty enough to make her aggravated, and she lived with Zuri of all people. He sets off every fight or flight instinct a person can have simply because he cannot hide his strength. Fahari grunted as her men kept complaining about the boy. They were at the back, between the first and third platoons with her sister at the end in the first platoon.
It’s been three days since that battle in the tundra.
Fahari was still skeptical.
The first five platoons showed up after the battle was over. They had her sister to thank for that. The fucking demon wouldn’t leave until she was ready. Another one of her cloaking rings busted so she was in a craze trying to find a replacement. She hated when her ego showed. Like the boy, she had a similar situation.
Their father slept with a succubus and had her.
As a child, in one of her mother’s lover’s mansion, Zuri touched a holy item that fuses with its host. Because she’s part demon, the seal, which is supposed to appear as a tattoo, cannot close on her chest. Her human blood is the only reason she is alive. And due to the open seal she has to keep her aura up, just like the Prince. What Fahari couldn’t grasp was why the boy didn’t have any buffers, or items to help with it. She was sure royalty would have the funds, and the Queen has always treated Zuri well, so she cannot help but assume she would have treated this boy the same.
But then again, she’s also heard stories of how heinous he could be. Mid-thought the air changed.
The Prince has awoken.
His mouth tasted like grotty pig rinds.
Osiris dragged his eyes up as the rattling of wheels, dirt, rocks, hooves, and feet clicked against something crunchy.
He was fucking starving.
“Y-your up, p-p-prince Os-siris.”
Those lifeless eyes turned to the mage. They smiled at him, despite their fear.
“Food.”
“E-exc-”
“Where the fuck is your food.”
“I-I…”
Osiris pulled himself over the edge of the bed.
“Don’t move! You’re going to aggravate-”
Osiris slapped her hand away, dislocating her thumb. She cried out and Osiris stepped past her, pulling the flap back.
“What the fuck- wait!”
Fahari watched the Prince step right off a moving carriage.
“HOLD!”
He stumbled, arms flailing around and clutching at air until he managed to catch his footing.
“No need. Just tell me where Haldir is and I’ll be on my way.”
Fahari looked at him like he was crazy.
The boy kept walking as the people around him struggled to stop at the dime of a hat.
“Wa- fuck it, MARCH!”
The line continued.
Bishop came jogging their way, face flush with excitement.
“Prince Osiris! You’re awake!”
Osiris glanced around.
Some old man with white hair and yellow eyes came running at him.
“Prince Osiris, you’re awake!”
Osiris found where the boxes come from.
Like a man overfilling with fleas his little march of men dandled around in massive clumps, infesting the man and camp around them.
Osiris loathed these things.
You kill one and twenty come back.
“Sorry for the sudden introduction, but I’m Bishop Arkwright.”
“What do you want, box man.”
“Box man?”
Bishop raised a brow.
Osiris kept eye contact as he reached and yanked one of his spells off a passing tote of crates. He popped it before flicking its body at the man.
“You’re like a walking ant colony.” Osiris walked on, despite the anxious looks of the others. “It's disgusting. They get everywhere. Speaking of.”
Osiris’s mood became rancid.
The air turned putrid as Osiris began to radiate something feral at the man.
“Why did some of them follow me into the bath.”
Bishop was lost.
“E-excuse me?”
Osiris dropped his mood.
“Sometimes your little devils-” He wiggled his fingers. “-would follow me into the bathroom. I always wondered what they did, if they were recording me.”
Bishop was getting it now.
“If I find out you were taking images of me, I’ll kill you myself after letting a beast brain fuck your skull.”
Osiris grinned back at him before dropping it.
“Now leave me alone. I need to find Haldir and make him cook for me.”
“Haldir went back home for his… vacation time.”
Osiris looked forward and laughed.
“He really did mean it when he said he’ll bounce the moment I’m ready to fight on my own.” Osiris wiped his eye of a single tear. “Does that mean he just left all the food there?”
“We actually went ahead and moved it to the first platoon.”
Bishop walked beside the boy.
“That’s what I would like to talk to you about-”
“No thanks.”
“-moving you, excuse me?”
“No.”
“B-but it’ll be safer.”
“You people seem to be mistaken about something.”
Osiris stretched his hands up and began to walk backwards.
“I’m here on vacation, you people are fighting for your country. I’m here to train. Simple. Clean. Effective.” Osiris snickered. “I don’t know why else you think I'd be here. It’s not like you’ve known me since the beginning, right?”
No light reached his eyes.
Bishop bit.
“You can still train here. We have great teachers, even a user with a similar condition.”
“If I have to repeat myself one more time I’m going to deck you.”
“Not kill?”
“..”
“We’re about to run into a food problem.”
“A food problem?”
Bishop tried not to laugh. At the end of the day he was still a child. A dangerous child, but a child nonetheless. He heard about the first incident on day one when the boy didn’t have breakfast. He heard he almost killed the Platoon Lieutenant. Bishop smiled. He was glad he was here. Now he didn’t have to wait weeks or months to receive news of the war. He was in it.
He was living it.
Osiris waddled his face forward in his march.
“The food that man sends me won’t cut it anymore. My mana consumption is in the next tier.”
“I know many guild members that need to eat processed monster meat every so often to keep their body from shutting down.”
“..”
“We have a chief that can cook any type of monster meat you may need. We brought him onboard because he can detoxify beast and demon meat incase of food shortages.”
“Can he not detoxify the meat?”
Bishop got his first genuine question.
Not a demand.
Not a statement.
He felt privileged.
Osiris felt a chill go down his spine. He’s felt this before. A fan. He looked up and down, and all around. And it wasn’t the fun kind of fan. Not the squealy, happy ones, but the stalkers. If he really thought about it, he was sure he knew who it was, but he was unsure what kind he was. Was it sexual? Career motivated? Move obsessed? A beggar? A slave? It was dangerous trying to figure out what type of fan a person could be.
He’s had to up his security ever since-
Osiris pursed his lips.
A part of him felt like he’s become one big joke.
On the other hand, he kind of is one big joke. A muscle man turned killer. A thug. A lowlife. A scoundrel. A no-good, rotten- Osiris forced his chest up and out, taking in a deep breath.
Sometimes the thoughts get ya when you least expect it.
Osiris looked around.
Everything was nice. The armor, the goods, the wagons, the carriages, the men, the women, it was pretty classist overall. He’d rate it as racist as America's deep south. Even after saving most of their lives he can feel disgust slouch onto his skin from their rainbow colored eyes. It was motivating. It really was. Spite keep his blood flowing, his body pumping, thumpin-
He fell behind the entire caravan.
Forty seven feet behind. To be exact. He refused to rest. Both his mana and himself were surprised he was able to walk.
His reserves dropped a little bit more.
“That monster meat is crazy.”
It’s been days since his last meal and he’s still pretty okay.
“..”
Osiris wonders if the beasts lives are like the animals back home.
“They sure smelled like it.”
Osiris snickered.
They really did smell like dogs and cats struggling to sweat in the midst of summer. There’s a certain stench to musty mutts.
He’s more of a fish guy, but what can you do.
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Bishop was unsure if he should interrupt the boy in his little… episode. He was hard to talk to.
“I can introduce you to the chef, if you’d like?”
“Tell him to teach me how to make basic meals with them. And how to use a stove.”
“Right now?”
“..”
Osiris was falling further behind.
He was really hungry.
“Have him make me something, leave all the mana or whatever. And make sure there’s at least three bodies worth of beasts. I don’t want a single piece wasted.”
Osiris fell behind another step.
“I’d hurry if I was you.”
“How are we supposed to live like this?!”
Fahari ran to find her sister the moment the Captain showed up. Bishop had the boy from there, she was no longer needed, and it was suffocating being in the center of that fire spitter.
“Why did you leave your post, Fahari?”
The woman stood looking over a map. The beastmen were moving again. They were following the border of the Hallowing Forest, ambushing them across the map.
The Generals in each base were mad.
Now their divisions were to meet up with five others in hopes of recovering from the losses and push back.
Even if their unit won their battle, every other was lost.
They were losing livestock.
If they didn't recover soon they were going to need bigger players. Higher ups are trying to prevent that. Zuri looked at the girl.
“So?”
Fahari tisked.
“I can’t do it. If that boy stays up here-”
“Are you acting like a child after what you’ve seen.” Fahari rose. “If you can’t handle a child’s sour mood then leave. I don’t need a coward here.”
Fahari rolled her eyes.
“You’re so fucking dramatic. I can complain you fucking dick. Go kiss-”
Zuri put a hand over her sister’s mouth.
Her threats didn’t work anymore.
Zuris looked at her. She was growing into a beautiful woman with deep, rich walnut colored skin. This round she had cornrolls that sprouted into havana twists. She pulled them up into a bun, letting a few strands loose on her left. She had their father’s golden eyes.
They were at war.
“Fahari.”
She rolled her eyes.
“-ef off me.”
Fahari stepped away and crossed her arms.
“I’m telling you, no one is going to be able to stand it if he doesn’t wear any mufflers. Do you have any extra? Anything? I promise I’ll ask father to send more right away.”
Zuri was actually taken aback. Her sister never asked for something for someone else.
“Why can’t you bare it?”
“Y-”
“Zuri, dear, can you summon Kou for me?”
Zuri stepped around Fahari.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“They have to get over it sometime.”
“Fahari, go get him.”
“Tsk.”
She left without a word.
“Trouble at home?”
“Why are you taking my cook?”
“He’s the Prince’s cook now.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Prince can no longer eat anything a human can. They’ve moved up. They’re on your level now.”
“Then get another cook.”
“I can cook for the both of them.”
The tiger Kou, in all his seven foot, white haired, yellow eyed glory, entered the tent.
Osiris was lured to this caravan type wagon by the prospect of food.
“So you’re the customer of the day.”
Kou placed a tray down.
“I made-” The kit flicked the lid, sending it spinning up in the air. “-the three requested, and a forth that-” He ignored the silverware. “-has less mana, just in case something upsets your stomach.”
Kou didn’t think that would be a problem.
The little kit licked his plate clean.
Kou thought the kit was on a power trip when he requested three entire beast body meals. Zuri was like that when she was younger, but demons have always been that way. Kou watched the child swallow intestines like noodles.
If they had access to mythical beasts Kou could offer the boy a real meal, but he’ll settle with the fallen foes the Kingdom collects.
War is money.
Humans love to turn things into things. His kind happens to be one of those things. Even their flesh is used for nobility. They like the taste.
Kou moved a finished tray and placed another. Osiris slowed down his chewing. The poor kit must have been starving. He was starting to use a fork. Kou hummed.
“What a weird kit, do you like beast meat?”
“..”
Kou smiled as the boy took a bite with the whites of his eyes shining in the candle light.
He swallowed.
“I’d rather not, if I’m honest. Dog and cat meat isn’t my thing. Fish on the other hand..”
“I see.”
Kou grinned.
“I don’t like crab all that much.”
“Crab? Those giant things?”
“..”
“I meant something else.”
“So tell me, how does my food taste?”
Osiris did manage to make it back to his camp after the wagon he fell asleep on after eating took him down the line through the night.
He gave the driver a tip of jerky.
.
..
.
..
.
Osiris was in a predicament.
Three stragglers have latched onto him.
“I can’t. I really can’t.”
Sunnie panted. Fibble was down for the count, and Vep was on his knees heaving.
“Get up.”
For three days and three nights he has pushed these children until they’ve sobbed, yet each day they came back. It was starting to get to him. Osiris dug his nails into his arms as the kids tried to move.
“We can’t.”
“You can.”
“We can’t!”
Osiris tisked.
He let his hands drop.
They were pathetic. They were just.. kids. They were just some teen kids latching onto someone they.. Osiris grit his teeth. That also bothered him.
Why were they there.
Vep finally threw up.
Osiris frowned.
“If you won’t run, I’ll make you run.”
Osiris aimed his intent their way.
Their legs shook.
He pushed more. They chittered. He stepped closer, added pain into his intent. Fibble pissed his pants. Osiris let the idea go and his intent snapped back to neutral. They sobbed.
“I’m sorry.” Fibble said as he tried to cover himself with shaky hands. Osiris tisked and grabbed his hair.
He was being cruel without reason. He knew it, but..
He looked at the teens.
“Ready to give up?”
“Fuck you.”
It was Sunnie. She was on her stomach trying to crawl, bawling her eyes out.
“You guys have shitty stamina.”
Vep debated using his gift on the boy.
“HAHAHA, did you see that one, it pissed its pants!”
Osiris watched some kids step out from behind crated goods and towards Fibble. He was surprised they didn’t look his way, but Fibble did have a face that screamed it wanted to be bullied. Poor kid.
Osiris watched Fibble look at him before looking at his pissed pants, then to the floor. His eyes ran rivers. Vep and Sunnie glared at him. Their little egos puffing up like a bunch of rats ready to tussle. He was sure the moment he took a step their way, they too, would piss their pants. But he gets it. He’s being mean. Again.
Before the bullies took another step Osiris was in front of them, blocking Fibble from their view. People were interfering with his mid life crisis of seriously thinking about taking these mutts under him or not.
He’s never trained anyone before.
His old man taught him how to punch and kick, he had to learn how to fight. And the way he learned was by doing it himself. Osiris wanted to punch something.
“Piss off.”
The teen laughed.
“Like your friend.”
“..”
The teen was unnerved by the child when he didn’t respond. His big cousin said he was an important man in the military, which makes him an important person. They all showed up a bit late, but his uncle assured him everything was fine, that he could do what he wanted.
“Why are you by the third platoon anyways?”
Osiris was wondering what would happen if he hurts a child.. He then began to wonder why he was wondering that when he’s already done much worse.
“You talk too much.”
The boy and the goons all looked aghast.
“Excuse me? I’m not the one running around with bastards and trash. Do you even know that girl is part beast?” Sunnie’s completion dropped. “Those yellow eyes are a sign she has their blood.”
“Doesn’t that old man have yellow eyes?”
“Old man?”
“He calls himself a chess piece.”
Barley’s face pinched. Chess piece? He tried to recall another person with yellow eyes that has a name of a chess piece…
“Bishop?”
“I don’t know, he’s old. So is he part beast too? Is he trash? I’d like to know. I mean, it fits his whole perverted MO, if you know what I mean.”
Barley did not know what he meant.
“B-Bishops eyes are not from beast blood. There’s a difference.”
Osiris could not see the difference.
“Go away. You’re bothering me and my men’s training.”
“Training my ass.”
“Shh!”
“Men? You’re the leader of these things?”
“You really do talk a lot..” Osiris held his chin. “It’s kind of concerning how you can’t tell when someone doesn’t want you here.”
“You little-”
Barley only thought about releasing his aura when the air became itchy, scratchy. They were told the Prince has a sensitive mood and to leave him be, but they haven’t met- Barley felt his stomach drop.
Osiris let the full, unfiltered weight of his ego fall upon the child.
“If you ever think about throwing your little pissing contest at me again I will kill you.”
It was no longer just his men bearing the weight of his angry will, it was everyone. Osiris was getting better at controlling where he aimed his intent within his aura field, but when he was mad, everything was thrown to the wolves.
He was but a man to the will of his flesh.
He could taste the smell of sulfur.
He was annoyed now.
“Piss off.”
A man over six feet grabbed the teens and pulled them away from Osiris, placing himself between them.
“It’s not nice to throw your weight around like that, kid.”
He had his hands on his hips, right arm clad with metal armor from his shoulder to his fingers.
The claws were sharp.
“..”
Sim sweat dropped.
Averet warned him over and over not to test this child. She told him of the war, but like everyone in the first platoons, it was hard to believe. The Prince was strong, but not that strong. Sim stood tall. Even if the child helped during the war it doesn’t give him a right to bully others.
Prince or not.
“You should apologies.”
“..”
Osiris turned towards his men.
“Again.”
The child ignored him.
“Hey.”
He took a step forward.
Osiris really was trying to see what he could even do with these kids. Like, with the way he fights? They’re useless.. he guesses there were other ways. He’s noticed the back combs the lands for goods, and he’s heard there are special jobs that people do to find treasures, ores, and dungeons. He needed men for this. He was terrible at directions, scouting too, because, I mean, he can’t even hide so there was no point.. And he needed a healer. Osiris hit a fist in his hand. Right, there was that potions guy. He looked at his men. He was starting to see a pla-
“Kid, enough games.”
Sunnie felt it in the pit of her stomach.
Danger.
Hot, heavy, scalding danger.
“Run.”
Fibbie and Vep looked at each other and followed Sunnie with a speed they didn’t know they had. A wall they hit was trampled over because they could read him. They could read the Prince. And the fortune read: he was about to lose his shit.
A few of the older soldiers raised a brow when they saw three pissed scared children book it down the line.
A boom shook the camp a few seconds later.
“This kid is fucking crazy!”
Sim tripped over lose gravel, the kid tried to get a hit in.
“I literally told you not to mess with him ten minutes ago!”
Sim could only offer an apologetic smile.
Even if most of the soldiers in the first five platoons were B Grade, that child’s first attack left bodies behind. And he hasn’t stopped since. Averet punched him in the side. She came from his tent with a face flush with rage after the kid’s first hit. She tried to calm the child, but he turned his anger on the both of them.
“How many do you think?”
“Six at least. I told you, Sim.”
She sounded so frustrated and sad that Sim felt bad. He knows Averet never gives out advice without reason, and he didn’t listen to her, and now they had a high level user going through a fit.
Sim princess carried Averet as the boy nearly tore off her arm. She wasn’t as strong as he was, and her stamina was having trouble with the high speeds the boy was forcing them to keep.
“He’s not mentally stable, Sim. I’ve tried to warn all of you- you know what. If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else.”
Sim cringed.
“...I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I hope you are.” Averet sighed. “Lead us close to camp I’m going to have to knock us all out.”
“Will talking to him-”
Averet pursed her lips and shook her head.
“He won’t stop until he or his enemy are dead. I recently learned he might have been like this for years.”
“...okay.”
It took three months for Osiris not to attack the man on sight.
.
. .
.
..
.
.
They became known as the Cowards of Lux as the weeks passed. At his beck and call like a trio of hounds the three orphans stuck to that Prince like paste. Somehow, just his three hounds manage to stay alive each and every time the Prince wanted to do something stupid.
Those that try to tag along have all died.
“I told you I don’t want to talk about taxes right now!”
Fibble was trying to carry some gold and potions they snagged from a little dungeon they found. It was already ransacked, but they managed to find a few good things this time.
“But you have to do them this year.”
“Please stop talking to me!”
Fibble dodged another faun. Osiris stole some of their fruit at the entrance so now they had to run because he set off a whole clan.
Osiris tisked and moved onto Sunnie who was carrying some weapons she fancied.
“Sunnieee.”
The sound of his voice pissed her off.
“I seriously hate you.” She dropped another sword as she tripped. “Listen to what I’m saying.” Osiris put his fists up under his chin and smiled at her. “I can’t stand you.”
“So you love me?”
She yelled and threw a helmet at him. Osiris cackled as he went to check on Vep.
“Huh, kid vanished.”
“He's dead, oh god he’s actually dead this time.”
“Fibble, shut the fuck up and run!”
“I am running you asshole!”
The two were at it again.
“I’ll be back.”
Osiris popped a few fauns as he circled left.
His little sooks.
First we had Sunnie, his loudest sook. She was loud, proud, and the first to get out of dodge when shit gets hot. She’s his little tracker. She was a feisty little redheaded, yellow eyed, mutt of a lioness.
Second we have Fibble, his crying sook. He was more of a hider than a runner, and he was their pack mule.
They were working on his career at the moment.
He was blond and purple eyed with a face worthy of bullying. And lastly there was Vep, his easily spooked sook. Just like Sunnie, he was the first to run, but like Fibble he, too, hides. He’s a combo coward. But he makes a terrific scout. He had nearly buzzed black hair, and faded teal eyes.
Just like he predicted he found Vep huddled in a tree’s roots.
“Dayum boy, whoever did your bangs did you dirty.”
“...”
Vep didn’t talk much. Even with his metal mask.
“Come, base is close and I want a nap.”
LOADING MAP . . .