The King of Crows

A Heartbroken Tower

We had been walking around for quite some time. At some point I had to check my phone as I had completely forgotten how long I even was in here for. Seven hours. How in God's green Earth was I in here for seven hours? And no-one told me?! Well it made sense why Philza hadn't told me, he probably didn't realise, care, or even know how time worked now. I should really teach him. He'd already been teaching me things of the past, so why not teach him things of the present time? I liked the idea, it seemed flawless. A win-win situation.

The soft trills of a murder snapped me out of my thoughts, making me come to a halt with Phil right beside me. I wasn't expecting the crows to make a sound so suddenly; let alone so soft. It was almost calming. Gripping onto my notepad, I snapped my head to look at the king. He, too, seemed calm, relaxed, unafraid of his own crows. Almost like they were his children alongside Theseus. It would make sense, he was 'The King of Crows' after all.

"Lost in thought?" His voice spoke softly, making me do a double take. In all honesty, not what I was expecting. He chuckled as he turned around to face me more slowly than I did, oh he was definitely calm and collected. "It is perfectly fine to be lost in the vast sea of oceanic thoughts. Our minds are such fascinating organisms."

"Don't you dare speak modern and then so damn formal the next!" I jokingly exclaimed with a quick laugh, earning a longer laugh from Phil. I don't know why he was laughing more. Does he have a broken sense of humour like me? Oh hell yeah! No matter the era of your 'supposed' life, everyone can have broken humour. "Anyway, yes. I was thinking."

"What about?" Phil asked after calming down, leaning against a hallway's wall. Folding his arms underneath his patterned coat, his smile not leaving his lips.

"Just how long I've been here," I answered, the crows rubbing themselves up against my head, neck and shoulders. I almost forgot they were all latching onto me. Not a single one wanted to be on Philza, which probably was giving him a breather in all honesty. "Seven hours actually; I should really get going soon."

"Oh..." Phil frowned, his blonde hair falling over his face. Darkening it. He looked back at me, lifting his back up with a smaller smile. "May I at least show you one last place within my castle before you go back to your own residence?"

"Of course you can Phil," I told him reassuringly, following him to another door. It was rundown to a degree, just like all the others, but I didn't know where it went. "Where does this go?"

"It is a secret Y/N," Phil chuckled as he opened the door. There wasn't much on the other side apart from a long, tall flight of stairs. "Shall we go up?"

"Am I going to get murdered?" I jokingly asked, but quietly stopped when I saw the embarrassed and terrified look plastered upon Phil's face. "It's a joke."

"Oh thank goodness," He sighed in relief before beginning to walk up the stairs with ease. I followed behind, but from how tall the tower was meant that I was going to be exhausted by the end of it. "If you get tired then just tell me, I shall let you be carried by me."

"Okay Phil," I smiled, looking at the chipped out walls. So many holes from stones wearing away from all the years, no-one even bothered to make sure the castle's interior and outer body was ever cleaned up, safe, and renovated. It could still be a castle but fit for modern day society, maybe Phil would love that dearly. But he's mad; mad that society now is just lazy, spoiled, not caring about anything special from the past. Had he even met someone like that before he met me? I will never know, though he seems so much happier with me. Knowing that I love his ancient home, and everyone he ever knew. Without knowing them myself. "Why is this tower so tall?"

"It is a special tower, that is why," Philza answered my question, still with a smile and good stride. He turned to glance at me and stopped walking, noticing how I was from walking half the flight of stairs. "Are you tired?"

"No I'm just hungry," I responded with massive sarcasm, which, this time, he understood. Picking me up, he gave me a piggy-back-ride. I loosely wrapped my arms around his neck, trying my hardest to keep my eyes from fluttering shut. "Thank you Phil."

"Marvellous! Now let us continue," Philza smiled as he continued trudging up the rest of the stairs. With his ease it didn't take long for us to get to the top; opening the door, he placed me on a bed inside the tower's room. Lighting a lantern hanging from the middle of the ceiling, I looked around to see that this was another bedroom. A soft glow from the flames allowed me to see Phil walk over and sit beside me on the bed. The patterns on his coat seemed to softly glow alongside the flames inside the lantern, it was beautiful to see. Almost hypnotising in some cases. I looked back at the bedroom we were in: sheets of written paper piled together on the bedside table, a horde of candles placed upon a desk, an old-fashioned guitar leaning against the wall covered in dust.

"Whose room was this?" I asked, walking over to the guitar to clean the dust off. Phil watched me as I walked back over to the bed with a dustless guitar. "It's very pretty - the guitar that is. I wonder if it stills works."

"This was William's room and guitar," Phil answered, smiling at the thought of this new man. He wasn't in the painting, so he wasn't a part of the family before. Maybe he came later. "He is not a part of my late family; we found the poor man abandoned by all his friends and family. All alone in the thick forest that used to be here such long ago. This was his room. We found him after the painting was created, if he was found beforehand we definitely would have put him in the painting alongside us."

"Can you read my mind?" I chuckled to myself. This man had to be a mind reader now! Or it was just an obvious thought. Okay, maybe that makes more sense but this man is an immortal king! So I don't know. "Sorry, sorry. Is there... a painting of him at least?"

"Ah yes," Phil hummed as he looked at the walls, stopping a massive blanket of fabric on a wall. "Underneath the tapestry there. He never really liked looking at himself wherever he was. It did not matter if it was a mirror or painting, he hated it. William always used the tapestry to hide the painting of himself, only getting it out on the rare chance of someone wanting to see the piece itself."

Philza carefully pulled down the tapestry, allowing me to see the beautiful painting of a beautiful man with long, dark brown hair. It appeared to not be brushed for a while, looking like a fluffy, messy mullet at the back. His thin, round, black glasses looked slightly cracked as they rested carefully on his porcelain face. His thin, porcelain face. His clothes looked too big on him. Now that I looked at his exposed arms, his arms were thin. So damn thin. Too damn thin for a normal human to deal with. "Phil, how did William die?"

"We have no idea, he passed away in his sleep one day," Phil frowned as he stared at the floor, sighing as he looked back at me with sad eyes. His steel blue eyes glistening over with tears threatening to fall. "Even 'til this day, I have no idea how it happened."

"Phil," I said with affirmation, getting him to continue to look at me. My lips tightened to a thin line, not knowing how to tell him something that he, probably, wouldn't know. "He died from anorexia." I pointed to the painting's thin arms, keeping my eyes on his own. "His body ate him from the inside out."