Poisonous Crystal Scales

Name

Scarde watched the crystal with a growing sense of unease. The boy simply gazed at it in silence, then shifted his attention to the window, his expression unreadable.

“Why did you take it out of the watch?” Scarde asked, his voice barely above a whisper. But the boy remained silent, his eyes distant, as if lost in thoughts far beyond the room they occupied.

Scarde, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness, reached out and took the crystal back, clutching it tightly to his chest. His heart raced, fear rising within him that the boy might try to take it again. He wasn’t sure why, but the crystal felt important, vital, and he couldn’t bear to lose it.

His gaze flickered to the boy’s hands, tracing the long, sharp nails, the slender fingers, and the pale, almost translucent skin. There was something unsettling about them, an eerie grace that made Scarde’s breath catch. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the boy was more than he appeared—something strange, perhaps even dangerous, lurked beneath his calm demeanor.

The air in the room seemed to thicken, the silence stretching between them. Scarde’s grip tightened on the crystal, his mind racing. What had they unlocked? And why did it feel as though time itself had shifted, pulling them toward something unknown?

-I'll come back later to question you... Rest until then,- Scarde said, rising from his seat and moving toward the door. He didn’t know what to think, but he had to talk to someone about this. He couldn’t speak with his mother—she was too preoccupied with the large crystal, and his father had too many responsibilities to notice anything beyond his duties.

So, instead of leaving, Scarde sat back down in the chair beside the bed, staring blankly ahead. The light streaming through the window danced on the blanket and the walls, casting fleeting shapes that mirrored the confusion swirling in his mind.

His own crystal watch was now just a simple crystal, though its protective power remained intact.

The boy, however, was breathtakingly handsome, and that was what hurt Scarde the most. No matter what he said, the boy never responded—only staring at him with those piercing blue eyes. Yet, there was something mesmerizing about his gaze. Scarde could feel his heart tighten with an aching desire to hear his voice.

-What's your name?- Scarde finally asked, his voice softer than he intended, but filled with an underlying desperation.

The boy still didn’t answer. Again. It was frustrating, but Scarde couldn’t shake the thought that maybe the boy didn’t even understand what he was saying.

-Do you understand what I’m saying?- Scarde asked, his voice sharper this time, a hint of impatience creeping in.

Nothing reaction.

-So, you don't understand,- Scarde muttered. -Alright... This is going to be difficult.-

Then, an idea struck him. He stood up and began searching through the room, quickly finding a piece of paper and a pencil. He returned to his seat and, with careful strokes, drew his question: Do you understand what I’m saying like this?

He held the paper up for the boy to see, watching closely for any reaction.

The boy nodded, his blue eyes scanning the scribbled drawing on the paper. Scarde let out a sigh of relief; this was how he’d be able to communicate with him.

Then, with a quick motion, the prince sketched another figure—an outline of a person resembling the boy, with an arrow pointing to the figure, symbolizing the name. Below it, Scarde wrote: Do you have a name?

He held the drawing up once again, waiting for the boy's response.

The boy tilted his head to the side. So, either he didn’t understand, or he didn’t have a name.

-Well, let’s give you a name then,- Scarde murmured, tapping his chin as he thought. -Let’s see... what would suit you?-

He stared up at the chandelier, the soft glimmer of the lights catching his eye as he examined every tiny detail. The shimmering crystal droplets reflected the moonlight, casting dancing spots of light across the ceiling and walls.

Meanwhile, Scarde felt the boy’s gaze on him, like a quiet pressure in the air. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the odd feeling. From the corner of his eye, he saw the boy’s curious expression, his eyes drifting from him to the room around them, as though taking in every part of it.

For a moment, Scarde wondered if the boy was truly aware of his surroundings, or if he was caught in some otherworldly state. But he couldn’t afford to linger on those thoughts. He needed to focus on this naming.

-Something... elegant, I suppose,- Scarde murmured, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. -Something fitting for you.-

-Leuw?-