Algernon Black || The Rise of a God ||

(Chapter 151) The King's Menace

As Devane came back to Etilia's castle, every door parted for him by the handling of relieved servants. Each and everyone halted to bow respectively at the advisor who nodded back his greeting on his way to explain his lengthy stint away to the king.

As he entered the monarch's chambers, powerful silence greeted him along with the king of Etilia's flaring grimace. His hands interlaced behind his back, battle stance ready.

"Your back," the monarch remarked, surveying his most competent advisor with barely concealed scorn.

"To more than a fews' dissatisfaction," Devane replied, apprehending the king's envy and still trying to devise what country had sent the assassins after him.

"Care to explain why it took you so long to get here?"

"I was on my way to Merra " Devane preserved the details of his ambush so as not to stir up
any needless distress in already tense times. "After hearing of what Loy did I was trying to prevent any more possible damages between our countries."

"But you never did make it to Merra. Though what amends could you make after what that boy has done? Threaten the life of it's king! Turned an ally into an enemy!" The king staggered forward, his white robes blown back by a chill night's breeze. "You've once again failed to prevent Loy's actions from impacting Etilia! Have you even heard of the things that boy has done on his trip?"

Devane thought back to what Oira had told him at Direreve. "Very little," he remarked proudly to the king's furry.

"He attacked the artifacts of Emora! Tried to kill them by all accounts! And thus guaranteed us a war with the most powerful country there is!" The monarch eye rims bleed red as they did whenever his rampant anger overcame him. "And if this boy is as powerful as they say he is, this country is doomed because of your failure and my failure of a son."

"He's not a failure." Devane immediately opposed, even knowing the punishment it would provoke from the king. He would take it as an insult, that Devane would defend his son in his presence. His jealousy would twist everything in his aging mind, contorting every praise or affection towards Loy as a slight against himself. But Devane meant what he spoke. He saw the possibilities in Loy, knew who he was, and how he would one day change the world. He looked up to the king ready for his punishment to see the all too familiar sight of the king's eyes blood red in fury.

"Take off your clothes." But unlike the last time Devane was ordered by the ruler to strip, there was no lust for the use of use body, just a dark craving for the abuse of it.

Devane disrobed and got on his knees before the king.

The monarch circled him as his redden eyes landed on the scars of his adviser's back and shoulders. It had been quite a while since Devane got any new marks, but he never forgot the old ones and knew exactly what was coming next as the king reached for the bullwhip hidden in the drawer of his armoire.

Devane didn't flinch the first time the whip sliced his back to draw fresh blood. Instead, he thought back to the start of this abuse, when his skin was smoother without layers of scar tissue, and the pain unbearable.

The king swung again. His deep-rooted insecurity fueling the power behind each of his whips.

Another lash. The whip didn't injure as much as it used, not just from Devane's protective scar tissue, but with the king weakening in his old age. It made Devane think of Loy, now coming into his prime, and how he would soon take over his father's throne.

Another lashing and Devane thought of Loy as a child. He shared with his father, the same skin, broad frame, and almond-shaped eyes. And even after his father had just whipped him the night before, he would smile down at the son, ruffling Loy's sandy blond hair, even when stretching his arm broke the fresh scabs and caused blood to stain the inside of his clothes. Loy never noticed the blood, Devane made sure he didn't. And kept it that way to this day.

A particularly strong blow and Devane faltered. He laid his hand flat on the ground, pushing himself to remain up right.

His blood splattering on the ground made him think of his time in war. When he fought by his brother's side. He hadn't seen his brother in years. Not since the day Marve found out about the orphanages and told him he wouldn't stand for it. Devane had to beat him to the verge of death to get him to leave, but did it to protect his brother from having to see any more violence than what his mind was already tormenting him by with the past. It left Devane completely alone for the first time in his life on a new type of battlefield without someone by his side, without anyone to rely on or trust but himself, but much more people he needed to protect.

Another whip and Devane bit down on his tongue to hold back cries of pain that he knew would only fuel the king's blows.

He thought about his many sins, killing countless men and women, operating the orphanages. All the evil he had been complicit in and committed too, and he welcomed the pain as well deserved retribution.

It wasn't until the king exhausted himself, and Devane was on the verge of passing out did his thoughts wander to Jared. He wondered if he reached his sister, and when he would come back. Devane had stood on his own for so long now that he forgot what it was like to rely on someone else, but as his body gave out and he couldn't get to his feet he needed nothing more than the support of someone he could trust and lean on. For Jared.

And even though Devane had stopped believing in good a long time ago, Jared was starting to open his eyes to the things in the world that weren't just evil and less evil. He looked at the ring missing over his knuckle and wished for it to be back in his hand immediately, but only if it was still on the finger of the hand he'd given it too.

The king muttered something at Devane, who could only half process it through the blistering pain overtaking his mind. "Next time, I really will kill you."

Devane fainted from his injuries, in front of the man he now knew had arranged his assassination.