The Lonely Ones

THE END

"Your abilities, how are they feeling?" Ima asks.

She, Dust, and Artemis sit in a dining area that he had never believed to be within Thorn Hill. In fact, it doesn't make sense. A hill that others cannot enter even if there are open archways revealing endless green forests. A warm summer breeze whistles through the halls. It's as if they're in their own world, untouched by anyone but them.

"Strange," Artemis replies, staring at his hands resting on the table. "I know there's power, but I don't understand how... I don't understand."

"Of course you wouldn't. The High King's powers stretch beyond our understanding. It will take you centuries, if not longer to fully grasp what's now within you."

"If you ever fully grasp it," Dust adds.

Artemis can't tell if he meant it as an insult or simply stating facts. Just like he can't tell why Ima is here, why she's acting like she didn't disappear never to be heard from again. Why did she show up? What did the High King mean when speaking to Ima? He had so many questions that Ima's distant stare said she didn't plan to speak on.

"What should we do?" Artemis asks. As he does, the doors to the dining rooms open. Maggie walks in rubbing her slightly swollen face. Wren follows, rubbing his arms that are no doubt also swollen beneath his shirt.

He smirks when Maggie's chair is pulled out for her by a few fresh green roots from the floor. Her gaze drifts to the floor, shyly. No one says anything as she takes a seat, but there's no way no one didn't notice the action. Dust can remain as apathetic as he wants, but there's something going on behind those gray eyes of his.

"You can either remain in Thorn Hill until you understand your powers enough to withstand any assault or you can hold the crowning ceremony and hope no one starts an immediate slaughter," Ima says.

"There will be a slaughter regardless. A crowning ceremony means a revel and a revel means death," Wren adds. "Unless the High King declares no revel, in which case there will be a worse slaughter eventually because everyone will be angry."

"Every option sucks," Artemis states. "If I stay here, won't there still be problems?"

"Mayhem. Death. Power grabs until you show up," Wren says, shrugging when Artemis sends him a glare.

"It's up to you, Artemis," Ima says, watching him quietly, as if she's judging him. He squirms in place, glancing about the table of questionable stares. Maggie gives an apologetic smile, saying she has no idea what to do either. Dust couldn't care less. Wren, whether he hides his expressions or not, sits so stiffly that Artemis knows he's as uncomfortable as Artemis is.

Under the table, Artemis grabs Wren's hand to hold tight. Wren interlocks their fingers.

"Let's hold a crowning ceremony in a few days," Artemis declares. "The less weakness I show the better."

At least, he hopes so.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

On the day of the crowning ceremony, Artemis stands in his new room that he continues contemplating completely destroying. He hates thinking it belonged to the High King--the previous High King. Artemis already made a few changes in hopes to make it feel like home, but he's not sure if that'll ever be truly possible. There's not much else to be done though. He can't head back to town. Everyone will be in danger. Maggie definitely can't risk leaving Thorn Hill yet. Dust managed to scurry off to give her parents a letter, but that's about it. Also, Dust volunteered to do so, which continues to make Artemis snicker.

"Oh dear, we wouldn't want you snickering at the thought of a likely dreadful crowning ceremony coming up," Ima says as she enters the room. "That may be a sign that you're going to act like the last one."