ZEPHYR RAVENSWOOD

Zephyr slumped on the chair in his chamber, sitting beside the unlit hearth as he heaved out a huge sigh of exasperation; the once disarrayed table now neatly arranged thanks to the royal attendants.

“My head aches badly,” he muttered, placing a palm on his forehead. “I’ve never been this stressed before. Everything happened so quickly; I’m lucky I was able to get through it.”

He let his eyes dart around the chamber, touching every trace of it as he, once again, heaved another deep sigh. “Royalty, huh? Glad I consumed such a vast amount of medieval media. I wonder how I’d have gotten through today without them. I probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up, especially with their way of speaking.”

He tenderly tilted his head towards the window, his gaze softening as he watched the golden orb of the sun slowly sink below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of red and gold. “It’s already evening. They should have called her by now,” he said. “I wonder how she’s feeling? Will she cry? Will she miss me? Will she finally care about me now that I was dead?”

A single tear rolled down his left cheek as he wallowed in his questions, but it didn’t get far before he gently brushed it off with his palm, sniffling softly as he straightened himself on the chair, then suddenly exclaiming quietly as he came to a sort of painful realisation, “Shit! I completely forgot.” He gripped his head as his eyes widened anxiously. “My computer, games, novels, smart phone. How the hell am I going to survive here without them? I’m in a mess. There’s no form of entertainment for me in this world.”

“My king!” One of the guards who manned his bedchamber called from beyond the door, pulling Zephyr out of his thought of misery.

Zephyr glared at the door ferociously as he screamed in reply, “I said I did not want to be bothered!”

“Forgive me, my king. But there is someone here to see you,” the guard said, his voice as apologetic as it could be. “It is—”

“It’s me, brother,” another voice replied, a younger, less mature and child-like voice, cutting the guards’ away.

“Thaddeus?” Zephyr inquired, his glare giving way to a gentler countenance, as his eyes softened, and the hardness on his face began to ease.

“Yes, brother.”

“Come on in.”

The door of the bedchamber slowly creaked open, allowing Thaddeus through. Zephyr noticed hints of fear in Thaddeus as his footsteps had bits of hesitance, and his body oozed none of the confidence he had initially shown to him earlier. He poured out a light sigh, understanding that his earlier fuming was what brought about this situation.

Thaddeus stopped a few steps into the bedchamber, putting a worthwhile distance between him and his brother. He fixed his eyes to the floor, clutching his palms tightly as he muttered softly, “I… I’m…”

“Come,” Zephyr said, pushing Thaddeus to lift his solemn gaze from the floor, and allowing him the pleasure of noticing the light, beautiful smile Zephyr wore on his face. “Come sit,” he added, tapping his thighs gently.

Thaddeus’ lips curved into a slight, satisfied smile, the corners turning up, spreading across his face as he quickened his steps towards Zephyr.

Huff!

Zephyr heaved out a deep exhale as he hoisted his giggling brother onto his lap. “Did you come to apologise?” He asked.

“Yes, brother.” Thaddeus turned his head upwards at him, his sheepish gaze filled with a clear indication of penitence.

“Forgive me,” Zephyr begged forgiveness as he calmingly stroked Thaddeus’ hair with a light touch, moving in a slow, steady rhythm that imparted a sense of calm and comfort to both him and his brother. “Stay still,” he added, gently grasping Thaddeus’ chin and straightening his head, separating their gazes from one another.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“But, I was—”

“No. It was me,” Zephyr cut in. “It was my fault for getting enraged over something so little.”

Thaddeus’ head drooped forward slightly with a sense of melancholy, his gaze fixed on his hands set on his thighs as he muttered, “But…”

“Just accept the king’s apology, will you?” Zephyr blurted, chuckling softly as he merrily ruffled Thaddeus’ hair, inciting a giddy giggle from him.

“Brother, you know I do not like my hair tousled.” The laughter kept on as Zephyr continued ruffling his brother’s hair, and a few times, tickling him beneath his armpits.

After a while of their play, the laughter came to a close. Thaddeus calmly placed his head on his brother’s chest, closing his eyes when he felt the warmth and support of his body behind him, as he heaved out a huge breath of joy and relief.

It’s been a while… Zephyr sighed as he dropped his gaze on Thaddeus.

My first impression of him was a spoilt brat, but… hmph!...

Zephyr placed his palm gently on his brother’s, now-completely, disheveled hair, calling forth a light chuckle from him. I don’t know why, but our little interaction made me happy…

Maybe because in his past life he had no siblings, he felt some sort of profound warmth from having a brother in this one. The heartwarming laughter was something he had not experienced in ages, and for the first time since a long time, his face lit up with a radiant smile—but it was short lived as his mind snapped forth something important.

“Thaddeus,” Zephyr whispered.

“Yes, brother,” Thaddeus replied, his eyes remaining closed as his head pranced about rhythmically on his brother’s chest.

“I have a question.”

“Mm-hmm. What is it?”

“Mosqui—I mean, those things that fly at night, those tiny bloodsuckers… you know what I’m talking about, right?” Zephyr’s eyebrows twitched nervously as he asked his question. He knew not what mosquitoes were called in this world, and therefore, he wondered if his descriptions sounded stupid.

“Bloodsuckers?” Thaddeus unclosed his eyes as he brushed his fingers through his chin with a sense of uncertainty at what his brother meant. “Oh, you mean gnats. The gnat flies,” after a short time of critical thinking, he poured out the answer Zephyr so anticipated.

“Yes, yes. That.” Zephyr did not know if what his brother said was correct or not, but with his level of ignorance of this world, it was best to believe whatever he said.

“Heh-heh. I’m smart, am I not, brother. I listened well to the savant’s teachings.” Thaddeus grinned proudly.

“And how are they dealt with?” Zephyr inquired. He seemed to have a somewhat profound hatred for these things, and seeked to eradicate them from his bedside while he was asleep.

“The attendants bring a moon fragrance to my room every night. Mother tells me it chases the gnats away.”

Moon fragrance? Is that what they call an insecticide…?

“But why do you ask, brother. Do you not get one brought to you every night?”

Zephyr gave a sigh of relief as he replied, “I do. Forget I asked.”

As long as there’s a way to deal with those little bloodsuckers, then I’m glad…

…

A voice bellowed from beyond the door of the chamber illuminated by the flickering light of the bronze iron lantern sitting atop the table beside the hearth, jarring Zephyr awake from the darkness of his slumber, and hoisting him up abruptly into a sitting position, his hazy mind struggling to process what was happening as his eyes darted around frantically for the sound of the voice.

After a few seconds, he fully realised his senses as the voice, now seemingly familiar to him, called out once again, “My king!”

Flynn…?

“Are you awake, my king?” Flynn added, his voice bearing none of its usual relaxed composure.

That’s right, the guards. Shit! How relaxed was I to stumble asleep… Zephyr gripped his head tightly, before suddenly jumping down from the bed, his body covered with a black drooping robe, as he said, “Come in.”

The guards who manned his bedchamber pushed the door open, and with passage through, Flynn wandered in, the dim light of the chamber raining on his face and showing Zephyr the tenseness it bore, and with him came his ragged breathing like that of a hunting dog, which in return had Zephyr fretting with nervousness like a maiden on her first night with a man.

“What… is it? The guards, where are they?” Zephyr asked, his composure clearly shaken up by the situation.

Flynn hesitated a bit as he watched Zephyr’s eyes fume up, before he said, “There is a problem—”

“Where are they!!”

“Dead… my king. They are dead.”