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Chapter 17: fate worse than dying, shout at the walls / hello

Chapter 17: fate worse than dying, shout at the walls / hello

Ranboo wakes up, knees curled to his chest. He doesn't remember falling asleep. He doesn't remember his dreams.

He blinks, eyebrows furrowing. The brief luxury of sleep fades away quickly, and his aches make themselves known. He hisses, softly - arching his spine, wings stretching, getting his blood moving the best he can.

The throne room is silent. The Void screams. He is alone.

As ever, always.

He shifts. His stomach had stopped complaining a while ago. Perhaps it knows that it'll be useless, futile. That all it does is waste more energy, in calling for the help that will not come.

Ranboo tugs on the chains, and they clang against each other. He twists his chafing wrist, shifting and pulling. Grabs the chains and tries, again and again, to see if he can break free.

It's useless. It's futile. He is hopeless.

Yet, still, he tries. He only ever.

He bites the chains. Nothing else changes, except he's a bit sorer.

It was worth a shot, though. It's not as if he could be doing anything else, right now. Or ever, in general.

He doesn't think he's ever seen The Council more excited, before. They murmur rapidly to each other, some of them practically dancing in place. Their gazes are bright, gleaming with anticipation.

He holds out for a bit - watching them, eyeing their motions, wary and unsure. Maybe he should've said nothing - waited them out, for the forever that he has. But he is weak, and he has been here alone for so very long.

"...what?" He leans back, pulling a face. "What's happening?"

The Council lights up impossibly more - they've been anxiously waiting for him to ask, brightening up like children finally given the treat of his undivided attention. As if the Void were ever much company, and he had so many other things to do.

'We've got you something, Prince!' A couple of them hurry out, but most of them step up to surround his throne. Purple eyes from all over stare, gleaming. 'You'll like this, we're sure!'

Ranboo...doubts it. Still, anything is better than having to listen to the Void screaming till oblivion.

Or so he thinks.

The ones that left the throne room come back in. They carry something large between them, hurrying over to step up to his throne.

And Ranboo, he feels he stops breathing.

"...that's-"

'The Dragon's egg!' They set it by his feet. One of them proudly pats the dark and coarse shell, as if they were the ones that laid the damn thing. 'It's due to hatch anytime now. You love the Dragon!'

Ranboo stares at it. The egg, speckled purple. He holds his breath, when he stretches his wings towards it, brushing broken feathers - speckled purple.

"...Dragon?" he breathes. He blinks, and his vision swims - the egg blurs, as does everything. Something burns. "Oh."

The Council falls silent - still. Worried, they glance at each other for guidance. 'We thought you'd appreciate the news, Prince.' They sigh. 'It is a shame, that They'll never get to meet Their mother. But then again, that's how it's always been.'

Ranboo ducks his head, pulling his chin to his chest - feeling each and every shudder, each and every hitch. He swallows tightly.

He's silent. There is nothing to say. His own mouth tastes stale.