Darkness greeted him with its sinister, devious smile as Astraeus opened his alert eyes. But rather than the darkness of his room, the darkness of the void welcomed him in its cold embrace.
Looking around, the boy realised that all he saw were the infinite stars sparkling in the abyss he called his consciousness. Brightly illuminating the sky, they seemed surreal in this sombre dimension, as if they didn’t belong to it, as if someone had forcibly put them there.
Still fantasised by them, Astraeus reached out to them, trying his best to only so much as touch them.
To feel their warmth in this eternal cold.
To know that it was really real what he witnessed each night.
To explore their nature, their form, their existence.
Everything about them tantalised him, pulling him ever closer into the void’s embrace. But just as he thought he was getting closer, they distanced themselves, vanishing from his grasp, fleeing from him as if he was a frightening monster.
“No, NO! Come back! Please, come back.” Watching as the stars faded into nothingness, Astraeus slowly felt the dark creeping out of its insidious holes, until eventually, it completely engulfed him, devouring him inside its infinite depth.
Feeling cold and abandoned, Astraeus ran through the dark but he didn’t move.
He screamed but nothing sounded.
He cried but nothing emerged.
He prayed but no one answered.
After some time he reasoned with himself to calm down to rationally think about his predicament.
But the moment he stopped fighting the darkness, it perished.
Only to be replaced by blazing flames which dispersed the evil darkness. At first blinded by the sudden light, Astraeus quickly recognised his surroundings.
It was his deceased father’s chamber in the Domitor mansion. The place which the poor boy had been forbidden from entering except under the supervision of his imperious father throughout his childhood.
Lifting his hands, the observant mage examined whether he was real or simply an illusion. As it turned out, he was only a spectator in one of the void’s corrupting mind games.
As he watched his father not moving an inch, Astraeus deduced that time must be frozen in this realm.
His father ... An old man, grey beard decorating his finely chiselled chin, luscious hair covering his, for Astraeus’ taste, too alive head. Despite being in the safest place in Fides, Valerius Domitor wore his full armour, from the chest plate and neck protection, to his shin protectors and toe garment. As usual, he was prepared to do the only thing he knew. Killing. And even as he simply sat there, reading documents, he emitted an ominous aura. A gloomy atmosphere always surrounded him but this one was even more suffocating.
However, Astraeus was unable to look at his despised father any longer and rather inspected the room which he so rarely entered, immediately noticing the bookshelves which replaced all of the room’s walls, filled with literature about war, poison, torture, assassination and any other cruel thing you could imagine.
Of course a painting of ‘her’ has to hang on the wall above the door. Right in your sight where you could marvel at ‘her’ every second of your pathetic life. Hideous as ever. The artist truly eternalised ‘her’ prominent ugliness and poisonous nature. Astraeus didn’t spare any positive thoughts about the room nor his father. But surprisingly, no hate or rage clouded his sane thoughts. He was strangely composed. Maybe because he’d already assessed the situation.
Suddenly time resumed and his father looked up at the door at which Astraeus had been previously staring. When Valerius began to speak with his usual cold commanding voice, he scared Astraeus so much that the boy stumbled backwards: “Enter!”
Eyes slowly widening at the painful realisation of what he was seeing, Astraeus shed a single tear, his body trembling. He was reliving his memories. The final confirmation of his theory arrived in the form of himself.
Or rather a slightly younger version of himself which was yet to be filthy, doubtful and bloody. But he had already been gloomy, just like the room he was entering, the Astraeus from a month ago, emitted an aura of despair suffocating even the non-existent spiritual form of the current Astraeus.
Despite this visual boredom and annoyance, he eagerly greeted his father and stiffly stood to attention just like the militant head of the Domitors demanded to be addressed.
Looking up from the documents he was scrutinising, Valerius neither greeted his son nor said anything to him before he began to blame the boy: “You’ve done terrible today in the arena. I expect more from you.”
His gaze returned to reading the papers.
“What?” Asked a confused and stunned Astraeus.
Without looking at his own flesh and blood, Valerius said: “You’ve heard what I’ve said. You’re embarrassing our whole family. Get better, you disappointment.”
Flabbergasted by this false perception of the truth, Astraeus angrily replied to his father: “I am. I am better-”
“No, you’re not. Your weakness and kindness disgust me.”
To emphasise his seriousness, Valerius added in a threatening tone: “If you’re ever that terrible at fighting or if you even dare as much as spare your enemy, I’m going to discipline you myself. And you don’t want that.”
With a blank look in his eyes, Astraeus whispered: “I’m good enough,” to which Valerius replied by shouting: “Speak up you wimp! Be a fucking man and don’t speak like an insect!”
Rage and hatred consuming his soul, Astraeus shouted at his father: “I said that I am good enough!”
However this statement only earned the desperate boy despising laughter from his father. The same kind of laughter as the one where you’d amuse yourself at someone’s incompetence since you’re so much greater than them.
This was the laughter which Astraeus received from the person he should normally trust the most, from the person who should console and motivate him, rather than denounce and humiliate him.
With an arrogantly amused voice, Valerius scolded his son: "You're not enough. You're just not good enough."
Interrupting his delusional father, Astraeus wholeheartedly screamed at the old man: "I am enough! I'm better than anyone else! Better than any of my god damn comrades! Yet you never tell me I'm good. Never tell me I'm appreciated. Never tell me You love me! What do I have to do to gain your admiration? How far do I have to go?"
Astraeus began to cry, clutching his eyes to stop his cursed hated tears. He feared crying because his father deemed crying as weak and pathetic. And despite the malevolence his father delivered to him, Astraeus couldn’t help but try to make Valerius proud.
Now dead-serious, Valerius coldly replied: "Kill me!”
A long, agonising pause as both of them either sobbed or panted.
“You'll have to kill me before I acknowledge you as my son." Staring at his father with neither empathy nor sympathy, his vision blurred by the tears, Astraeus stormed out of the room.
But only after devastating it completely, razing it to the ground and burying his father, the person he hated most, beneath the rubble and debris of their cursed home.
With a loud gasp, Astraeus shot up from his sleeping position, crouching over his weapons, gripping them tightly as if his life depended on them. Something wet streamed down his cheeks but he completely ignored it, rather trying to determine whether he was real and whether what he was seeing was real. Two distinct yet intertwined states from his experience.
Head wandering through the room, he quickly thanked the Angels that he was in his cheap rented room in the reeking inn, ‘The Clattering Cheers,’ rather than the golden, surreal, extravagant palace of the Domitors.
Within a few breaths, Astraeus composed himself and blankly stared at the wall opposing him.
Why the fuck are they increasing now? If my own misery wasn’t enough, no, the void has to annoy me as well.
Jumping upwards into a standing position, Astraeus enthroned over his room, remarking its tininess and mess. He had never been the tidy one.
“On top of the work, I get nightmares now? Fantastic.” Thus he concluded his strange night with his cynical voice and began to dress up.
A knock on the door made him jump a little and elevated all of his senses to battle readiness.
His hand swiftly shot up to the handle of his axe, gripping it tightly, clutching the with runes engraved pommel in his scar covered right hand.
Still shirtless, the young boy silently moved to the door and upon arriving there, rapidly ripped the door open, only to stare a scared and agitated Facinerosus in the eye.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The new friend needed a few seconds to calm down but after recovering from the initial shock, he happily greeted Astraeus with a cheerful voice: “Nice to see you’re awake,” a quick glance at the exposed muscular upper body, “after sleeping until nearly noon!”
Definitely trying to mock his friend’s sleeping habits, Facinerosus added a hint of sarcasm in his loud exclamation. Astraeus, purposefully avoiding the subconsciously expected answer to Facinerosus’ demanding question, redirected the topic of their conversation to something entirely different: Their tour of Foditas.
“Should we begin our tour? As you’ve said, it’s already quite late.”
Not angered or annoyed by his friend’s ignorance, Facinerosus replied: “Sure, first we’ll be heading to the forum since it’s a pretty great crossroad in Foditas and from there on o-” his voice became inaudible to Astraeus who had returned to his chamber to finish dressing up, but who didn’t expect his friend to just go away.
But he did.
Facinerosus was gone.
Grabbing his cloak in a hurry, Astraeus dashed out of his room, into the corridor and down the spiralling stairs, pulling the cloth over his head clumsily and knotting the strings of it together.
From his habit and experience of war and surveillance, Astraeus glanced across the customerless inn. Except that it wasn’t customerless since one man was slumbering in a remote corner, seemingly passed out from drinking too much.
His brown skin matched his dark hair which he kept long, leading to it covering most of his face. Unfit for the military, assessed Astraeus instantly. But those were the only thoughts he spared the drunkard. There were far more exciting and anticipated things to puzzle about. Like the tour of Foditas which would exhilarate him.
At least he hoped it would.
With a semi elegant slide, Astraeus jumped out into the open, the mud slippery and wet from the previous night’s rain, demanding the prince’s full attention to remain on his feet.
“Will you hurry up, I’m hungry,” echoed Facinerosus' voice across the street and attracted Astraeus who ran towards his new friend, the cache of weapons loudly clattering on his back as it crashed from side to side defying the specified rhythm of the boy by obeying the physical laws.
“Partly because of you,” whispered Facinerosus quietly enough that his newfound companion wouldn’t hear his remark.
“So we’re going to get food?”
“Yes we are indeed. But unlike normal people, we’re going to steal food!” proudly announced Facinerosus in the middle of the street, earning himself and his flustered companion derogative stares from the passing peasants.
A bald older man even spit onto the dirty child’s feet, coating the holey shoes with disgusting yellow snot.
Wavering whether he should address this degrading display and punish his friend’s harasser, Astraeus decided against it.
Firstly, he didn’t know their relation enough to judge upon their interactions.
Secondly, he wasn’t ready to show Facinerosus his powers and reveal his secret identity.
An angry stare had to suffice for now, as the distracted Astraeus listened to the seemingly endless blabbering of his new buddy.
After walking for some time, when Facinerosus was sure that they were out of range from any guards or officials, the brown haired boy proudly presented his stubbly friend two freshly stolen green apples.
Smirking from cheek to cheek, Facinerosus announced: “See, I’m kind of a hunter myself.”
The previously law-abiding righteous prince of a noble renowned family wholeheartedly laughed at the sudden reveal of the stolen bounty. He hadn’t even noticed the theft in the slightest.
He had been too occupied by his friend’s words that he didn’t even bother to look at the stands they passed.
His new friend mesmerised Astraeus to the extent that only the oldest of the boy’s acquaintances managed to accomplish.
Facinerosus’ task was even more impressive considering Astraeus’ great analytical skills which he had refined for over a decade.
“Should we sit down somewhere where we can eat without being spit or yelled at?” sarcastically asked Astraeus.
Mirroring his friend, Facinerosus replied in a tone equally as sarcastic: “Unfortunately, in this town there is no such place you’re talking about. Only rebellions, poverty and shitty people. Surely this town must seem like the arse of the known world after all your travels.”
Unable to contain his laughter, Astraeus amused himself at this blunt statement, which to be fair resembled the reality of Foditas’ state for Astraeus who only saw the things Facinerosus described since entering the city.
Yet eventually, after much searching and walking they found a suitable spot to eat their food without too many ogling and judging people.
But their apples quickly vanished leading to Facinerosus proposing to steal something more … filling than apples. This proposal however was declined by Astraeus who decided to go buy some warm cake from a proximite market stall, earning him much praise and thanks from his friend who theatrically bowed down and hailed the Domitor.
Their conversation switched towards their origin as Facinerosus wondered how a young boy like Astraeus became a hunter and how he had that much money to spend.
Seeing the rare chance to socialise Astraeus wanted to immediately answer but stopped right before commencing. He couldn’t tell his new acquaintance about his true origin right away. Maybe he’d scare Facinerosus or intimidate him.
But an idea emerged from the depths of his mind to simply rewrite true history to a less revealing form and slightly distort the truth.
“My family and I originate from a small village in Cael called Genus, probably haven’t heard about it.”
“I indeed haven’t. But after all, I know little about the world past these cursed walls … my soul’s boundaries one could even call them.” Despite the joyful act, Astraeus found a deep sorrow inside the boy’s words and expression.
“And why did you flee from your prison?” Asked Facinerosus while taking a big bite out of the steaming cake, burning parts of his tongue in the process, making his new friend chuckle above his own delicious food.
Thinking a moment before replying, the Domitor wagered whether he could trust this child, but his resolve and rationality eventually succumbed to euphoria and goodwill.
“My mother died during my birth. And my father during the last year. Most of my family wants me dead and the other half is scattered across the world … hunting.” He nonchalantly said, still taking bites out of his yummy cake.
Taken aback a little by this sudden revelation, Facinerosus, just like Astraeus a young clueless child, took a bite to pass the time and give himself the ability to think of an appropriate answer.
But his friend’s fake truthfulness encouraged the thin boy to reveal his own misery: “Mine are also … dead. Not that they meant anything to me, seeing as they treated me like shit and made me their working slave while they relaxed all day, always talking with rich persons behind closed curtains, never allowing me, their miserable, filthy son, to see the aristocrats.”
He’s an orphan, just like me! Astraeus’ eyes brightened up momentarily at the similarities he shared with his friend but darkened as realised just how selfish he was at being happy about the deceased state of Facinerosus’ parents.
“I-I’m so sorry for your loss-” “Don’t be,” interjected Facinerosus, visibly trying to maintain his distorted mask of happiness.
A mature boy, Facinerosus switched the topic which as he deduced hurt them both, to a more lively one: Their relation.
Grabbing Astraeus’ hand, the boy’s eyes widening frighteningly, which Facinerosus didn’t notice since his eyes were closed, the orphan from Foditas blurted: “From now on, we’re friends! Promised? You won’t leave nor sell me?”
As Astraeus stared his opponent in the eyes, he noticed the watering pupils, yet he was stunned by this sudden exposition of emotions.
Friend? … Yeah, that’s kinda true. Callida would be happy for me.
“Yes, we are friends. The two underground explorers of Foditas and soon the world!” Adding to his imposing announcement which must have seemed lame to the few passing shadowy figures, the muscular prince stood up, towering over Facinerosus, casting a deep shadow over the boy who he invited to something …
“What do you mean?” Asked a confused Facinerosus.
Fighting the urge to clasp his friend’s shoulder, Astraeus proudly announced: “I invite you to join me on my travels through the world. While I’ll be the glorious knight who gets all the attention, you’ll be the handsome squire who everyone loves and fancies. How does that sound?”
Unable to contain his tears and emotions, the hopeless orphan slung his arms around Astraeus, burying his face into the boy’s shoulder to hide his crying and strange sounding frantic sobbing, probably because he never gained the chance to cry, constantly fighting for survival against all odds.
Momentarily stopping his tearful squirms, Facinerosus said: “It sounds to me,” a nasty sniffle, “as if I’m finally leaving this cursed place with the first real friend I ever had-”
The sobbing got the better of him as he clutched his head into Astraeus’ body once again, the strange sounds filling the alleys of Foditas.
After sharing their emotional moment, the duo visited various places around Foditas, enjoying themselves, doing childish things and leaving their mark in the filthy town.
One of the things they did was play a trick on an old man who had mocked and disgraced Facinerosus for as long as the boy remembered existing.
The way it worked was pretty simple: They simply switched the locations of things inside his house every time he didn’t look, hiding afterwards and praying that they didn’t get caught. For Astraeus it wouldn’t have been a problem but this safety erased the thrill of the prank.
It did work pretty well, the only dangerous thing being their restrained chuckles and wheezing sounds which erupted whenever the man ranted about his own self, even going so far as deeming himself insane.
But at that moment, Astraeus had lost it and had burst out laughing, revealing their location to the vengeful, angry geezer who chased them and even captured Facinerosus temporarily but a conveniently placed slab of wood stopped the man in his tracks, releasing his clutching hand from Facinerosus’ brown ragged tunic.
Another great thing they did to eternise their friendship and leave a mark in Foditas, was paint a giant symbol spelling ‘AF’ onto the wall of a whorehouse.
Yes, not the best place for children but the only place whose owner was distracted by enough alluring, different things to not notice two children painting.
Happy and satisfied at their two successes, they decided to visit a park inside the ancient city of Foditas, well ancient being relative.
But the moment they entered the beautiful green area of the reeking stinking city, Facinerosus strangely bid farewell to Astraeus, excusing himself but swearing to make up for it the next day, telling Astraeus to visit the sewers if he wasn’t around soon enough.
Sad at the missed hours he could’ve spent with his new friend, Astraeus ameliorated his feelings by staying in the beautiful park.
He sat on the luscious grass, enjoying the sounds of chirping birds, happily conversing people and strangely, his consciousness’ silence, something which had been unattainable to him for as long as he could think.
Yet there he sat, alone inside a remote secluded sign of life inside a sign of misery and decay, wondering whether the surreal moment was truly happening or if the void simply played tricks on him again.
But as he went through his usual steps to determine whether he was real or not, Astraeus deduced that he was indeed alive and in the mortal realm.
Eyes closed, muscles relaxed and breath calm, Astraeus basked in the evening sun’s warmth. On this cloudless balmy day, he felt ethereal, surreal.
Simply enjoying the indescribably joy of the moment’s silence, Astraeus dozed off into the lands of dreams.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No one is perfect, not the kings, not the mages and not even the Angels. How can we find friends if no one is perfect? Maybe because we acknowledge our own imperfection to equalise with the people we love and care for. Or possibly we purposefully ignore the little flaws and faults in our friends’ behaviour and personality to allow us to unobstructedly love and adore them.