Short Stories Anthology

The gentle flame that licks the hive

"It is not too late to turn your heart
towards the light, your highness."

In the tenderness of the still morning, a voice like the song of a singing bird would pervade the silence, nudging it into a direction towards disruption. The idealistic tranquility that once loomed was instantly shattered, revealing a dirty, murky bottom, like the very substratum of a forgotten well.

Amongst the bucolic bushes of the curated imperial garden, a pair of lovers laid flat on the wet tapestry of magical green grass, shimmering beneath the blessed luminance of the benevolent sun. From first glance, their dispositions were seemingly innocent, resembling only a pair of love-struck lovers with an irresistible fondness for each other, who couldn't even bear to be apart for a millisecond, but what pair of lovers would be so audacious enough to frolic among the beauty of the royal garden?

Of course, it could none other than be the tempest third prince of the imperial decree. The prince did not resemble the rest of the royal children; his hair was like charcoal that laid at the bottom of a shimmery lake, seeming to capture and absorb all the light that fell upon it with an eagerness to devour everything into nothingness. Bearing great resemblance to tar, a dirty substance, or the ominous cloak of a crow, a signature of misfortune, naturally, those that held great respect towards the dignity of the royal family, could no withstand seeing this sinister rakshaa be associated with the pure and pious noble blood. It was not usual for the third prince to be ignored, or even ostracized.

Currently, mounted atop the black-haired prince was a servant of unknown origin. Brown-haired, with a freckled face, the entire person gave off an inconspicuous image that was easy to overlook. But, the servant was surely young, to have his youthful and naive heart hooked by the black magic of the third prince. After their concealed presences were unearthed, the young servant was filled with immense regret, hastily shuffling his clothes over his pale body, and fled almost immediately, leaving the third prince still buried in the heaps of bushes.

"Hey, wait..." The third prince's words fell on deaf ears. Eventually, it was replaced with a begrudging sigh. The black-haired man was calloused all over, his noble appearance unkempt. Few fallen twigs from trees, and stray leaves from surrounding bushes had entangled themselves within his black locks.

"Cardinal Meng, I certainly didn't expect
for you to be so interested in my business."

'Alfredo,' the third prince, mocked with slight. Normally, upon hearing this crude and almost frivolous voice poke fun at you, would trigger a violent response in anyone. But, Cardinal Meng was a thoroughly religious man with a heart untouched by mortally expressions. The priest's face was stoic, like a statue that could never be thawed. Unexpectedly, it encouraged an urge within someone to bring out a reaction from that stone-like face.

"To express desires towards your own brethren,
why have you decided to stoop so low, your highness?
As I have said, it is never too late to step in the
guidance that the regal and mighty lord offers you."

"I'm afraid... if the Lord does truly wish to guide me,
I might end up a terrible discipline of his rule."

Alfredo chuckled, slowly buttoning the white, pasty tunic that was previously shrugged off to reveal an expanse of slightly tanned skin. Perhaps, it was because his skin was unusually brown, the grape-coloured marking of ambiguity was even more eye-catching, forcefully seizing the attention of bystanders. As Cardinal Meng observed the blemish, his face was unchanging, a truly remarkable feat for anyone who had just walked in on the third prince fondling a male servant.

"Creatures of the dark like me.. has no chance
of being purified, are you still unaware, Cardinal?"

Alfredo slowly rose to his feet, departing from the messy flowerbed he was inlaid on moments prior. The prince did not forget to reassemble his scuffled appearance. The disorder linings of the tunic and the vest were being smoothed out by a lean, jade-like hand. Each and every movement was fluid and precise, and the previous unkempt appearance was rearranged into perfection, like a diamond that had been uncovered from mud. It would be a sordid lie to say that the third prince was unseemly in any way. After all, he still retained the genes of the royal, and born between an attractive concubine and the king, he was bound to turn out a pleasant specimen, far superior than his peers. He was like a nightingale that rested on a faraway branch, conducting a euphonious ballad, irresistible to human ears, that you could not help but wish to capture the songbird for one more song.

Cardinal Meng threw an askance glance towards the latter, as the other man slowly stalked towards him with a languid gait on par with a prowling black leopard, knowing exactly what position its prey was in, but purposefully holding itself back to portray a sense of nescience in order to mislead and misguide.

The corners of the man's bloodless lips curved into the ghost of a haunted smile.

"Well, I ascertain that Cardinal Meng has some
holy duties he needs to manage. Therefore, please
allow this humble follower of the 'light' to retract
his presence, and leave your grace with a peaceful
mind. Farewell."

As the man turned to leave with a casual greeting, what the Cardinal proceeded to voice out loud caused the man to halt in his leisurely track.

"Perhaps, the manner in which you treat yourself
directly reflects the manner how others treat you.
You see yourself in the light others portray you as.
Why reduce yourself to this faux portrayal?
Why debase yourself as such?"

Cardinal Meng questioned brutally.

The third prince, whose back was just then turned on the holy figure, slowly swivelled around. The look on his face was none of imagination, horror, or surprise, but of dead neurosis, as if the charming image he proposed earlier was nothing but a playful hallucination. Indeed, he truly resembled what the blackness of his hair denoted, the coming of death, woe and misfortune. But, he was so dazzling one could not help but to yearn.

"In the span of a person's life, just how many things does one reveal, or conceal?
Everyone wraps themselves up in layers upon layers, offering the world only with an elusive face and ambiguous expression.
So, what does Cardinal Meng know about me?
You know that I like men, that I am a careless Casanova.
Besides the facts I have carefully fed you,
what does Cardinal truly know?"

"...your highness. It seems I have spoken out of turn.
If my words acted as an opposition, I am sorry."

"You are forgiven. How can I hold this against a man
whose heart is solely devoted to God, that he seems
to have no inkling what appropriate manners are?"

Alfredo chuckled lowly, taking slow baby steps towards the holy figurine. Each step that the man took, was like treading closer and closer into the mouth of a hungry beast. When Alfredo had closed the distance between the two of them, Cardinal Meng realized how easily Alfredo had towered over him— a masculine man, like the jagged teeth of a beast, or a well-honed axe that thirsted for blood. But, because of the disparity in height, brought a sense of oppression. Cardinal Meng, who had been so vocal, found himself mute as if he had his larynx castrated.

"Cardinal Meng, do you know... my tastes also
extend out to men with dedicated hearts? I enjoy
very much destroying their faith, dragging them from
their altar, and immersing themself in the muck that
surrounds me. And when they struggle to keep afloat..
I will drown them with my own hands."

Spoken in a low, dulcet voice, the last sentence was meant to be a private message.

Cardinal Meng was clearly shook, and began to tremble from head to toe. Alfredo reeled himself back in, a cryptic smile filled with satisfaction plastered on his handsome face. More than princely, it was the smile belonging to that of the dashing devil.

Cardinal Meng's irises eclipsed to the size of his pupils. He was about to reach his hand out and caress that smiling face, but only managed to stop himself mid-action. Realizing what he was about to do, he snapped out of this hazy trance, and shook himself free of the dizzying effect. But, he was unable to face Alfredo no longer. With a trembling form, he wordlessly turned around, and walked away, his hands clutching the cross that hung from his neck. Oddly enough, when Alfredo looked at him.... he felt like the cross had transformed him into a noose.