Valfar Soinus, the fourth prince of the fifth realm of hell, hated parties. His brothers, all four of them, didn't seem to have his reservations. Valfar admitted begrudgingly they looked dashing as they waltzed their dance partners around the room, though the only reason he admitted it was that he looked practically identical to every single one of them.
They all had the same coal black skin and red glowing eyes. Their horns, similar to that of a ram's, distinguished them the best. The oldest brother's were the biggest and the youngest the smallest. All were capped with golden ornaments to show their station. The baubles swung from the end of his youngest brother's horns as he spun his dance partner around and around.
Valfar turned away from the dance floor, which was set under a vaulted ceiling with chandeliers dripping red light hanging from it, and wondered if he could sneak out of the ordeal. His father wasn't paying him any attention, which wasn't exactly news. Valfar was the fourth son, not the first and not the fifth. His power was too weak to call notice to such an insignificantly placed pawn. Valfar could probably disappear and it'd take weeks for his father to notice.
"Care to dance, Prince Valfar?" the voice was high and came from far too close to Valfar's ear.
He smiled down at the woman, though anyone who knew him would've known the smile was false. The woman had blonde hair curling to such a volume that her horns were nearly covered. For the royal family, who placed a great significance on the caps at the ends of their horns, this style of hair wouldn't be tolerated. For some reason it was that thought that convinced Valfar to accept her invitation.
She danced smoothly with him, though he hated dancing. It was...an inconvenient activity in which one must pretend they aren't trying as much as they truly are.
If the woman noticed Valfar using the steps to guide them across the dance floor towards the doors that would take him out of the party, she didn't say anything. In fact, she didn't say anything at all, for which Valfar was grateful.
The second the dance ended, he sprung away from her, bowing slightly, in a polite sort of way. Whatever she'd wanted to accomplish by asking Valfar to dance either had been fulfilled or she'd realized he wouldn't give it to her. She let him go without so much as a word.
Valfar slipped through the door. The underground palace of the fifth realm had twisting hallways full of creatures guarding and serving the royal family. Though Valfar passed many on his way to his room, none dared point out that the prince was supposed to be entertaining the King's guests in the ballroom.
Valfar opened the doors to his room. It, like the entire palace, was cast in red light constantly due to the molten lava scattered through the dark walls. He wanted a bath, but that would require him to summon Pael, and unlike the other servants, Pael would drag him back to the party.
Valfar settled on changing and going to bed. Usually, Pael helped in this process, but that didn't mean Valfar couldn't actually do it on his own. The first thing he did was rip the golden caps off his horns and throw them to the floor, they could be picked up later by someone who actually cared for their significance. He walked to his wardrobe as he pulled his doublet off and then his undershirt, leaving a trail for Pael to deal with later.
His hands were just at the button holding his pants up when something odd happened. Valfar was no longer standing in his room, looking at his wardrobe. He was now staring at someone that looked suspiciously like a mortal.
The most telling of the boy's features were his rounded ears and lack of horns, though perhaps he could be hiding some in that shaggy dark hair of his? His pale skin was peculiar, too. He was shorter than Valfar by only a few inches, and had this look of utter concentration on his face.
The mortal's voice seemed to embrace Valfar as he said words that didn't make any sense. Perhaps Valfar would've stayed frozen forever, entranced by the boy's voice, unaware of the glowing circle beneath him, if the mortal hadn't spotted him. The mortal dropped the book he was holding and screamed as he fell on his butt. He scrambled away from Valfar, ice blue eyes meet Valfar's gaze.
Valfar broke the stare first, attempting to take in his surroundings, attempting to understand what was happening. The room was small with a wooden floor that had something written on it with glowing blue script. He found two more mortals standing in next to the wall which was only about an arm's length away from Val. These mortals wore dresses and looked significantly older than the one on the floor in front of Valfar. Their expressions were more perplexed than scared.
Valfar wondered if he should teach them to fear his kind, but decided that it would be too much of a bother. Besides, it wasn't a good look for a Prince to hurt mortals unnecessarily. Whatever happened, it was a misunderstanding that would be fixed the second Valfar could climb into his own bed.
Valfar gave the room of mortals a knowing smile and then snapped his fingers. He waited for his power to shoot through him. He waited to be returned to his room. Nothing happened.
YOU ARE READING
UnFamiliar
RomanceAmbrose is a witch, a very low powered one who's been held back a year in school, but a witch nonetheless. The test for graduating from the third year to the fourth-year level of training is to summon a familiar. During the rite, something goes wron...