Knights of the sky(Jikook)

Chapter 2: The mark.

Jeon Jeongguk stared down at the withered pages of the scroll, heart hammering wildly within the confines of his ribcage. The yellowed paper trembled in his hands, the candlelight reflecting off of the inked words that stated his doom.

The moonlight light dipped into the room, casting it’s ominous glow across the carpeted floor of the library, where he had been making his home the last week nights. The scent of paper, ink, and the smoke of the gentle fire dancing in the low light across the hearth was a familiar scent.

Shelves of scrolls, ancient and new, lined the great walls made of stone. Each scroll placed neatly within the holes of its birth, holding the information of the Kingdom and its people. The silk of the couch felt damning now as he stood within the dark crevices, dropping the scroll to the burgundy carpet.

The cold pit in his stomach twisted, the words like a mantra echoing within his skull, whispering it's laughter. The mark across his skin, as familiar as the back of his own hand, was laughing at him now. Itching.

‘ But there are some, some so rare, so powerful, that a human is already destined to have a Dracki as their own, as a Companion. They are known as Fated. Once the human, and their Dracki, reaches the age of maturity, the symbol will appear on the skin of the human, in the same color as the Dracki’s eyes.’

The words from the scroll were mocking him, laughing like the drunken whores of the brothel within the darkness of his mind. Swallowing past his cotton tongue, Jeongguk flickered his eyes towards his wrist.

For a brief moment, he wished, that for once, the beautiful symbol that he has so dutifully hidden for so many years, was gone. The symbol that was warm and pulsated, like a living being within his flesh, has so long protected him in his time of sadness, would disappear.

It didn’t. The curves of silver ink, faint and yet, so intricate, lined his wrist, creating the effect of the half moon lined with a staff, itched with three lines of old. A breathtaking, glow silver made up the ink, creating it’s faint colors.

Ever since he had reached the age of ten and four (14), he had woken to the burning of his wrist, craving it’s way across, line for line, and had been there ever since. He had never known what it was, or where it had come from, but he hid it.

Hid it with the band that showed his linege, his family so known.

Reaching out with shaky fingers, he traced the mark, the mark of a Fated, that he could trace within his sleep from the years of his fingers memorizing it. As usual, his skin was warm, sonorous, and now he knew why.

There was someone, no, Jeongguk corrected, not a someone. A something, was on the other side. Something that bared the same mark, with the same dark color of his deep chocolate from the overseas colored eyes across the scales of a creature from old.

“This has got to be a joke,” Jeongguk whispered to the empty room, as if that will take away the words inked on the paper, and now his mind. Clenching his hand, he gritted his teeth as he looked away. “A cruel joke from the Fates.”

Except, no one was laughing.

Sighing out loud, Jeongguk wandered towards the moon dial along the windows of the library, showcasing the village down below. Large stone homes and trade routes lining the cobblestone streets, empty from the late hour, and glimmering gems lined among the Nobles houses.

The Moon Dial gave a alarming hour, one past of the high moon. Muttering a curse under his breath, he turned on his slippered and picked up the scroll. It felt heavier than a simple piece of parchment as he replaced it, buried within the shelves, as it was before.