Immortality (Sequel to Apprentice)

Chapter 10: Insanity

Note: Again, sorry for not posting a lot. I'm really busy and it's hard to fit in the time to update two stories at once! It's also hard to focus on one plot then move to a different one altogether...I'm trying, I really am, so...I will, of course, try to continue to update regularly, on both books! Though I may have to update a few chapters on one story then move to the other story and update a few chapters on there. So I'm gonna update (hopefully) two chapters today and maybe one tommorow? Writers block coupled with two books isn't the best, but I'm coping! :D Anywho, onto the story!

EXTRA NOTE: I'm adding random demigods into the story, so if you see a name you don't recognize, it's just some random name of a random demigod I made up :D

Mexxy's POV

The ballroom was packed. A proud smile rose onto my face-I loved parties. The thumping rhythm of the music, the dancing bodies sweeping across the dance floor, the happy faces...it was something I enjoyed watching. Especially when the purpose of this was for Voxeltopia to see the ex king as his usual insane self.

There had been rumours, when he had gone out with Tia, that he was sane enough to come back. But now I would disprove these. Glancing to my left, my new assistant, Anastatia, was leaning slightly against the wall, her long curly hair limp on her shoulders. I liked her. She was quiet but she was bloodthirsty. Silent but deadly. 

"Anastatia" I murmur, tilting my head when she turns at my voice. Her mysterious dark green eyes, the colour of a jungle tree, met mine. She was rather exotic herself, her toned tanned skin glinting in the dim flashing lights reflected off the crystal ball hanging from the ceiling. Even her hair, the colour of light brown umber, seemed to twist and hang like the vines in a jungle. She was a sorceress, a powerful one, and a demigod too.

"Yes, my lord?" she replies, her accent lilted with the voice of someone from a distant country. 

"You look uncomfortable" I note, my eyes wandering to the spruce bracelet she wore on her right wrist, patterns twisting in the grain of it. It was a simplistic but beautiful piece of jewellery. "I'm fine" she replies, her eyes turning to absorb the vision of people dancing. I reach out, stroking the back of her hand lightly, and she didn't react. My long pale fingers looked strange next to her creamy caramel skin, and my hand trailed up her arm to the crook of her elbow, and I tugged her lightly.

She stumbled, leaning further onto my arm for support and I resisted the urge to flash her a smirk. 600 years of being alive had done nothing to my charm. I could charm the sting from a bee if I wanted to. "It's time, my dear" I whisper. She nods, eyes flickering down to the floor. "Be careful with him-he's dangerous, even in this state. Get someone to help you, like Featherblade" I suggest. She nods again, pulling from my grasp and she walks with the natural grace of a model to the wall where her staff was. Her fingers grasped near the top, fingering the dents in the acacia wood, before she lifts it up and cradles the bottom in her other hand and disappears through a door.

I wait for a moment, eyeing the crowds. No one seemed to have noticed Anastatia leave, so I clear my throat loudly. I rise from my thone, and immediately the room falls silent, dancing partners stopping their twirling. Oh, how I loved being king.

"Ladies and gentlemen" I begin, my voice low and quiet, yet it seemed to echo off the quartz walls. "The ex king, the mighty Ridgedog-" I sneer at the word mighty "-is here tonight." Murmurs arise from the hall and I wait for them to finish. "Many of you heard that he was sane now. He was, a while ago. But, I'm afraid, a sane Ridgedog is more dangerous than an insane one. We've been...holding him here for a while, so that tonight, you may finally see what has become of your ex king..." My voice trails off, as I can hear footsteps pattering lightly down the corridor to my left, as well as the scraping as a body was dragged along the floor. He was not dead, but he was almost surely being dragged against his will.