The Savages

Chapter 16: Princes and Castles

"Wow, check out this awesomely huge castle!" An adenoidal British voice resounded off the thick concrete walls. "A guy could really get used to living the high life here."

"Don't travel too far or you'll get lost!" Slate called out after him, striding casually through the two heavy-set wooden doors leading inside. The guards posted by either side never batted an eyelid as eight other clones followed him, keeping their gazes solely on the extensive front garden.

"Too late," the same voice responded. "Uh, can someone help me out here? Which way is left and which is right? What's my name? Where am I?"

Teemu slapped his hand to his forehead, running his fingers down his face as he groaned. "Can someone go and drag Perseverance back here, please?"

"On it," Shannon flatly responded, patting him on the shoulder before walking down the corridor after his brother.

Teemu took time to admire the architecture of the castle, glancing over the tall columns crawling up to the arched ceiling on either side of the spacious foyer, decorated with ancient banners depicting an anomalous creature similar to the one Zavion had ridden. Sharp, golden hawk-like eyes gleamed threateningly on a harshly shaped face, bearing only slight resemblance to a possum's. The rest of the creature was broader in contrast, as if the creator of Unai had gotten bored with it and mixed an array of contradicting body parts together. It took on more of a horse-like shape, standing up tall on two of its four muscled legs spiked with talons. The eery images of them were reflected on the polished black granite floors, flecked with traces of golden chips.

Rolled out toward the back of the room, leading through an open doorway, was a traditional crimson rug with an intricate pattern of swirling golden leaves. Stephen stood on the far right, arms folded across his chest as he gazed ahead in anticipation for his twin's return. Light spilt in through the windows above, catching the back of his platinum blonde curls and casting faint shadows over his soft, curved jawline. The plain black shirt he wore was ripped and torn, but no bloody scratches were visible on his ivory skin.

It was then that a pair of slim arms wound around Teemu's neck from behind. A tiny body slammed into him, almost throwing off his coordination. Instinctively, he spun around and grabbed the person by their wrists, only to loosen his grip as his eyes met a pair of enticingly ice blue ones.

"Emilia," he breathed her name, almost as if it were his first time saying it aloud. "Thank goodness you're alright. I was worried about you, after discovering you weren't down in the cages with us."

She threw her arms around his torso, pulling him tight against her as if trying to eliminate any chance of space getting between their bodies. There were no words he could have said to comfort her; to let her know how much he missed her. It started as a dull ache in the centre of his chest, slowly intensifying into a burning agony which only grew with each second that ticked by without being near her. Now that he was wrapped up in her arms for the first time, the hollowness he felt inside slowly disappeared, along with all the stress. He could feel the thrum of her heart beat underneath his chest, accelerating at the slightest touch of his fingertips grazing her cheek, gradually moving down to her strong jaw. She leaned into him, gently nudging his palm with her chin, and lifted her face a tiny fraction to lock gazes with him.

Teemu found himself immobilised by her beauty, and not for the first time. She'd been full of surprises since the first time they met only a few days ago. Yet to him, it felt as if an eternity had already passed before his very own eyes. If he was stuck inside a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Every precious second they spent together was something he wanted to saviour for later years, when they were both old and grey, ageing together side-by-side surrounded by loving memories. No one he dated in the past ever came close to the way Emilia made him feel. It was all so foreign, but so right. There was no other way he could describe the way she made him feel, even if he devoted a minute or so to thinking about the words.