The Raven Lord | Book I

XIX. The Boy Prince

The thing with solitude is that it leaves a mark and never truly fades. It creeps in like an illness, weaving its way into your bones and the crevices of your heart, before it sews itself into your very soul.

The boy prince knew that feeling all too well. At first, he rejected the idea. He hated to be alone with the darkness and the crushing sound of silence with nothing but shadow- his only friend- to bring him solace. 

When minutes turned to hours and hours to years, the small boy had grown fond of the solitude. In fact, he welcomed the dark pit that it formed at the core of his being, as he learned to draw his power from it. This is what set him aside from all the others; he used what was taken from him, and yanked at that invisible thread until he had something. And because of this, he grew more powerful than most of his kind. 

Shadow Wielders, they had been called in ancient times. And a Shadow Wielder he had become. He smiled at the dark power that fluttered at his fingertips like an inky cloud, savoring the sting of its touch. Soon, he learned how to sprout wings of smoke and shadow, lifting himself up, up, up. 

The boy laughed in the face of the demons he had once feared, for he had taken what was nothing, and made it something. 

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Lex: 253 years ago

Jasmine and vanilla floated on the air along with the cool breeze from the open windows.

I struggled with the small tie at my neck, fidgeting and adjusting until the tips of my fingers grew numb. I was nearly ten years old and had already prepared myself for numerous events, but none such as important as this. 

"Do you need help, my love?" 

I looked up from my tie and gave a small nod. As my mother bent to help, the jasmine and vanilla scent grew stronger. I breathed it in, holding it in my chest before breathing out. Within moments, the tie was arranged perfectly. I doubted I would ever be able to tie one without her.

"There," she said, stepping back. "You look perfect, Alexander."

Leaning in, she caressed my cheek softly, her raven hair tickling my neck. Her sapphire eyes shone bright as she fidgeted with the front of my jacket, smoothing wrinkles and buttoning the places I missed. Those eyes- the only thing that told of what lie in her blood, dormant and unseen. 

A knock sounded at the door and she straightened. "We will go down in just a minute. Are you ready?" 

I nodded and she patted my cheek before answering the door. Music sweeter than a fine symphony rose through the inky black door of my mother's receiving room, and my heart leapt and pounded to the beat. But when I heard his voice at the door, the leaping ceased. 

"You look beautiful, Maylily," said the Captain of the Guard, his voice lowered and deep.

"Thank you, Axel. Come in," my mother chimed, stepping aside.

The door frame was suddenly filled by his bulky shoulders, his ruddy blonde hair standing up on end. His mud brow eyes fixed on me and a sly smirk spread across his face. 

"Well, well! Look how you've grown, Alexander," the brute said. 

"He will be ten next week," my mother beamed, her scarlet gown making her look even paler. 

I stood taller and forced my features into neutrality. This night was supposed to be special for my family. So why was he here?

"He may be small yet, but he's a strong one," a familiar voice added from the door. My head snapped in its direction and I couldn't help the smile that cracked my face.