In Huck's Hands

chapter 1 Hate or love em

"So, you're telling me...my whole family died when the rebels carpet-bombed the capital?" I tried to stand but stumbled a bit before fully coming to my shaking feet. The farmer's filthy little hovel was at least blocking the sun from my half-drunken vision...I felt Dennis tense as I creased a damp spot in my grey shirt that came off a rusty crimson color from my short nap among the Buritian dust.

I frowned quietly to myself as I stared off at one of the large rustic sandstone bluffs that pimpled the rolling dunes of my fatherland. How the fuck did Dennis find me all the way out here? I had spent four days hitchhiking on a long-needed bender just to escape even hearing about his stupid coronation...I have hated all manner of Vascan court bullshit my entire life but actually having my successor stare me in my eyes while my father crowns him instead of me...In front of the whole capital! I'd rather stay in exile!

I'd rather they just fein my lunacy and behead me already in truth. "Huck!" I discerned the cold slap before the sound waves pierced my hung-over ears. " You--okay listen I am not in the right mindset to explain why your nonplussed attitude is wildly concerning..." His cadence was off, Dennis was a strange guy--Tall but portly, yet you could tell he was frail from how upturned his stubby pig nose always was. "Do you even hear yourself?!"

I could barely hear anything but the ringing of his screeching voice...That and the photons psychosomatically deafening everything around me. "You act like I'M the one who ordered the strike."

I began dusting off my dark-colored pants. Dennis' bleached golden dreadlocks were dripping with sweat, His eyes kept looking back to the car and back down at me as I rubbed the top of my head.

My eyes followed his as he tried to stare me down, the jiggle of his jowls almost made me let loose a small chuckle. His large mouth opened for a moment wordless before speaking. "...YOU act as if you are not the acting leader of Buriti Vasca ITSELF!"

The entire mask of my father's 'reign' was marred with the chips of civil war...There's no fucking way my WHOLE family was dead after one incident, the rebels had been running frequent attacks since they took over the airport last month.

"My father?" I bet that mean one-eyed bastard was still kicking one of the only Vascans left with a true throne and not just some courtier or powerless duke. The mere mention of him made Dennis shift slightly as he adjusted his many golden necklaces.

"Burnt to a crisp saving your mother." He looked down for a moment as he broke eye contact...I still felt as if he was gauging my response in some way. Each time he spoke it was merely just an excuse or another finely tied loose end that aligned ultimately with his Regency. Greedy, and unwise to involve me in his scheme...

I cupped some white sand into my hand--The world was not so black and white, like these small chunks of earth, there was no way no one had lived but Dennis and I...If left to luck. I no longer trusted my older cousin, I no longer could pretend to tolerate his presence.

"My mother and Kasiha then?" My tone faltered either from the alcohol-fueled migraine or maybe from the thought of my intelligent sister being exterminated in the insurgent's rage. They had gone too far this time...It was customary for a king or prince to be abducted but this was a clan-clearing coop that seemed to have no regard for Buriti or Vascan war customs.

Dennis took a few steps before clearing his throat, his response was much too plastic as if he was reciting one of the stupid fucking multicultural plays he always is writing. "The rebels had fake ambulances stationed for the survivors...." His fat fucking lips smacked together at the end as if I was meant to infer the horrid ending of my sweet sister.

"Just stop giving me some goddamn call and response and tell me how the fuck im the only surviving royal in this whole shitty state?" I normally tried to have some sort of heir of authority over Dennis but now actually having it didn't seem to matter. He flexed his eyebrow without breaking eye contact, impatient rage now displayed on his bearded face. Repulsive.