A/N: A double update? Me?
What a shock.
Actual plot is in this chapter. Finally fought past writer's block, and it turned out a bit longer than the last updates. What can I say? Avoiding family on Thanksgiving reaaaaalllyyyy gave me inspiration to write lol.
Hope y'all enjoy!
Fire.
Smoke.
Pain.
His parents' faces as the blade came out of nowhere.
His face as he slashed violently at him, screaming obscenities.
"You're the reason why."
"You're the reason why he's gone."
"You and this horrible kingdom."
He didn't know what the man meant, or why it was happening.
He just wanted someone to pull him out of the fire, someone to bring him somewhere where he could breathe again.
Help.
Help.
Help.
Helphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelp...
No one was coming to help.
He laid there on the ground, blood leaking out of the wounds in his stomach and his leg. The smoke filled his lungs, stealing the oxygen from the air, slowly suffocating him.
He could feel the ash in his throat, taste it as it burned his tongue.
The flames grew higher, simultaneously beautiful and ugly.
He wanted to cry.
The tears evaporated immediately, until finally his eyes were too dry to water.
He wanted his parents.
He wanted his siblings.
But most of all... he wanted his best friend. Cale Henituse, the bright, red-headed eldest son of Count Henituse. His wild, unexpected, and most importantly kind best friend. He wanted him. He wanted to say goodbye.
He stared past the fire and smoke at the ceiling, where his grandparents had once painted the night sky. How many times had Cale and he laid on this very floor, staring up at those very same painted stars, promising to protect each other until the very end?
Cale promised.
He promised that nothing bad would happen.
He promised that he would be safe, always and forever.
"Ambrose!"
The voice called out in the distance, familiar and comforting.
His eyebrows pulled together.
"Ambrose!"
The voice was so familiar.
So familiar.
Who was he?
Who was he?
Whowashewhowashewhowashewhowashewhowashewhowashewhowashewhowashe...
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FanfictionKim Rok Soo, age 36, was, in his opinion, nothing special. There wasn't really anything that made him "special", other than, of course, his Tragic Past™️, which honestly wasn't even that tragic, in the grand scheme of things. Sure, he was intelligen...
