These handcuffs were some of the worst he'd ever had the displeasure of wearing. The rough edges of the cold-iron dug into the flexor muscles on his wrist, the chain was too short so his arms had to be bent around at an awkward angle behind his back, and his unfriendly and anti-social jailers had yet to reply to a single quip or remark since the blindfold had come over his eyes. The blindfold was of high quality at least, no noticeable irritation to the young mans rather sensitive eyes nor sinuses. Strange, to use such manacles yet spring for a high quality blindfold. The young man decided to once again converse with the apes responsible for his current predicament.
"Why lock me in such shit cuffs? You have to have something better." The young man called out, breaking into a coughing fit as the pain of his broken rib spread due to his attempt at humor.
"You get wha' you get ya git. Thems the only kind of cuffs we got fer yer kin." The large, rather ugly figure called back. Not that the man could see his captors, but based on thier stature while carrying him, overwhelming strength, broken Regal Standard, and horrific stench, it could only be assumed that he was held captive by Umbral Trolls, a race of towering brutes whose bodies appear to be made up of at least twenty-percent boils.
Before the chained down man was able to make a comment in derision against the brute, an explosion rocked the area, he presumed was a cave, in which he was being kept, causing his ears to scream in pain and his wings to reflexively erupt from his back, destroying the back of the wooden chair he was so uncomfortably sitting on. The cascading purple of his Forewings and Hindwings were pelted with bits of rock and debris, yet they managed to protect the front of his body. In a swift motion, the man retracted his wings back into his body, causing them to disappear into a few grains of the Dust that powered all of his inherent abilities. The very reason he was kidnapped, he suspected.
"ALPHONSE!!" The familiar voice of Alph's most trusted partner and associate, Tyler, rang throughout the presumed cave.
Tyler and Alph had known each other for a great many years, first crossing paths, swords, and spells whilst Alph was leading an excursion into the mountains in the north, the same very mountains that Tyler's gang of bandits had so nicely taken up as their base of operations. Unluckily for both parties, a lich-aspirant also had laid claim to the silver deposits in that very mountain. The would-be leader of the excursion fell into a teleportation trap alongside his opponent, and they formed a strong bond after fighting and surviving their way out of that hell pit together. It also helped that the rest of the soldiers sent with Alph had killed all of Tyler's bandit associates and sent for a divine order to come and purge the mountain in the time it took them to escape the aspirants dungeon.
"TYLER MY GOOD MAN! WHAT TOOK SO LONG? MY POTION OF PLANT COMUNION COULD BE DONE BREWING BY NOW!" Alph yelled in reply, signally to Tyler that he was both alive, mentally well enough to crack a joke and relatively unscathed.
"Stop yellin ya blue mongrel, tha lil sprite ain't gettin thr-" A sharp sound pierced the air, interrupting the brute and ostensibly killing him, given the loud thud that quickly followed the noise.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
"Umbral Trolls, disgusting the lot of them." Tyler's calm voice rang out, as his gentle footsteps echoed closer and closer to the area in which Alph was held. "Truly I have no idea how you dealt with them for the few hours you did."
"You get used to it, besides if I hadn't been caught whilst using the restroom, they would never have had a chance to get these damn chains on me." Dante replied, a cocksure grin spreading across his face.
In a few quick moments, the chains fell to the floor and Alph felt the wicked energy that he had grown so accustomed to flow freely through his veins again. Reaching up and pulling down his blindfold, Alph was greeted by the wonderful site of his pixie friend scraping the gore of the mutilated trolls off his arms.
Tyler is handsome by fairy standards on a good day, and mildly good looking in his current state. Coming to a total average height of four centimeters, with a soft skin tinted green, as if it were brushed with flakes of emerald, a head of hair full of definition and volume, and pearlescent wings, the fairy usually emitted the picture of elegance. At least, he would if he didn't regularly dress like a mountain bandit, carry an axe that a man Alph's size would struggle to wield, and sport a grin that would put the local asylum to shame. Truly, the picture of everything the race of relatively docile fae tried to hide.
"You fuckin idiot, how did you get captured on a simple trade negotiation? Do you need a baby sitter everywhere you go? Where's the brave Death Mage I swore my eternal fraternity and friendship? Have you still not trained enough to decay a simple chain set?" Dante began to zip around the mans head, pestering him incessantly about his various wrongdoings and mistakes. How was he supposed to know that Umbral Trolls were after his head? Aside from the multiple warnings he'd received of course.
"Relax relax would you? Besides, the moment they unchained me they were all going to turn into corpses anyway. I just hadn't gotten that far yet!" Alphonse retorted, which was partially true. If he had been able to get away from the Life-link Chains, not even a legion of Umbral Trolls could have contained him.
"Your father is furious. This is serious Alph." Tyler said, releasing his axe into his ring and landing atop the shoulder of his dear friend. "You won't get off from this easily."
"Please, he's a War God Emissary, he's always a little cranky. I'll probably just have to wipe a bandit camp or two and all will be well." Alphonse replied in the same cocksure way he always had.
----------------------------------------
As the magic circle appeared at his feet, Alphonse realized he had made a critical error somewhere along his thought process.
"Dad, please, what you're asking is ridiculous!" He pleaded from the bottom of his shallow soul. His punishment was truly the last thing he wanted to face. Responsibility.
"I have given you too many chances Alphonse. This is the last straw in your string of embarrassments. If you were not my son, you would have died for failing this negotiation. I've tried to be gentle, I've tried to guide you down the righteous path fit for a royal, but it seems more drastic measures must be taken." The Fae Lord of Eternal Winter, Antonio Icefield WitchThread said in a solemn voice, sighing deeply before continuing. "It is as I stated. You shall be banished into the Lower Realms. You are to become a man worth of his title by claiming a land of your own. Whether by marriage, conquest, trade, it matters not. But you shall not mention your position within this court until your task has been completed."
"But there's n-" Before Alph was able to utter another syllable, the king's spatial magic overtook him.
Opening his eyes, Alphonse Inigo Redding WitchThread, Third Price of The Winter Court, found himself face first on the floor of an unfamiliar forest, with an aching body and a strange feeling in his brain.
"Shit." Alph muttered to no one in particular.