Poenus: How Azrael falls (BL)

The Sword

DRACO

He stared at the reflection on the mirror presented at him, inky black hair stood out from his pale skin and pooled around his soldiers, lilac orbs framed by dark lashes stared back at him. He raised a hand hovering it in front of his face, reluctantly he traced a finger against his scar. It was his most prominent and noticeable feature, a slash that began at his right cheek and ended at the base of his right soldier. He let down his hand and rested it on top of his lap, he frowned when he noticed his beauty mark just under his left eye he hated how that damned dot made him look a bit feminine.

“Please sit still” the soft voice of his attendant made him sigh, honestly he didn’t know why he was required to have a personal attendant he could dress and fix himself just fine thank you very much. But then again if it weren’t for Sasha then he would spend all morning taming his hair that resembled a bush whenever he woke up. Plus she was good company, she didn’t talk much but when she did it was to either scold him (gently) or request him in helping him to get ready for the day. He obliged to her request and he could feel her fingers untangling the knots in his hair, he didn’t know how women managed to tame their hair (he suspected magic) he would always ask Sasha if she used magic she just laughed at his face and held out an ivory comb indicating that it was what she used. He started to question if combs had magical properties. Sasha was done quickly tying his hair up in a ponytail while his fringe which was too short to be held up hang in front of his face.

The attendant then moved to his closet which were filled with clothes he hardly used, he looked away in guilt the clothes were gathering too much dust that Sasha had to wash them from time to time to keep their fine condition. He kept insisting that he didn’t need that much clothes really but the queen would always turn down his requests and send him some clothes anyway. He didn’t mind sleepwears and undergarments or the plain cotton and silk shirts or the pelts or the pants, what he did mind were those ruffled shirts with complicated ribbons or those vests that would always hugged his figure or those long sleeved shirts with their poofed up sleeves  that was either itchy or made his body temperature increase by seconds. He knew he was already a noble and should look like one but if being a noble meant wearing comfortable clothes just for the sake of appearance or publicity then he’d rather not.

Sasha presented him with some undergarments, black pants and his armour. He thanked her and she left giving him some privacy. It was a rare sight to see the raven haired man without his armour, it was his typical outfit and that was how people would easily spot him. His outfit composed of a pitch black chestplate a symbol of a wing etched on the left side, it was made of iron and soulstone a rare metal with magical compositions, metal cuffs of the same material and fingerless gloves on each hand, black pants paired off with leather boots dyed black. The queen would always ask why does he always wear black every time and he would reply with a shrug. What was wrong with black? It’s a happy colour. (At least to him anyway) He spotted his cape draped along his bedpost, unlike his whole outfit the cape was red, crimson even, the insignia of a jewel with a spear, a sword (schmitar), a double headed battle axe, a dark crescent, a g cleff and a cat’s eye surrounded the jewel and was stamped at the center of his cape signifying his status as a general.

He walked out of his quarters, the halls were still empty save for the patrolling guards. Passing through the arcs that led through the Queen’s quarters he knew she was still asleep for she valued sleep too often. He would give her one hell of a lecture later on, the symbol of a spear was etched on the columns leading to huge double doors a spear surrounded by lightning and a crown was carved on it. There were no guards posted for everyone knew how capable the queen was on her own. (and the protective spells on the door)  The raven haired general knocked once, then twice when no one answered he invited himself in pushing one of the doors open not caring for the sound it made.