Wanderess

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

"This is it?"

"Do you have a p-p-problem with the painting sire?" The man was practically shaking from fear. Good. It was selfish, but if the people remained terrified by him then the King wouldn't turn his attention to the young man and see the conflict inside his mind about everything that he had been taught his whole life.

"No, it's just... argh, I didn't think I would come out looking so..."

"H-h-handsome, Sire?" Shaking his head, Adrian searched his mind for the word to describe what was before him.

"Regal."

The artist blanched of all colour, and began stuttering like a common idiot, 'S-S-Sire, his Majesty commissioned me to p-p-paint you Prince. I didn't realise you were unhappy w-w-with my portrayal... I could t-t-try again if you insist, I just wonder what I would say to the K-K-King. I could try-"

Holding up a hand to silence the fool, the Prince of Darkness commanded every eye in the room, every eye in the buried castle for that matter.

"It is fine. Send it to my grandfather for his approval and be out of my sight." The fumbling man picked up his art and scuttled from the room as quickly as he could. Releasing a large sigh built up in his chest, Adrian wondered whether he would ever be content to rule a land of Demons, to scare everyone he met into submission, to be the most feared ruler after his grandfather, but most of all, Adrian wondered what would his father say if he saw his son now?

The noise of his home was deafening as Adrian marched through the halls of the place where he had grown up and become a true monster. Making his way to the catacombs beneath the castle, to the darkest pit of the castle, to the lowest point underground... the Crown Prince had duties to attend to.

****

Adrian Tenebris can be considered a vital part of our story. You won't hear much from me now as there is a tale to tell and I don't want to keep you from hearing the details. I will tell you that although Fayre does not know what became of me, what the real world held for me in my exile, she had a heart of gold and is willing to give up what means the most to her for her people and her kingdom and the people of Solas need a ruler such as that. Maybe even Malvat could do with a little of Fayre's sunshine and somehow, I feel like Adrian may help with that.

****

The screams of pure terror that erupted from the man strapped to the table in the catacombs were nothing like Adrian had ever heard, and he had participated in his fair share of torture in his short twenty years.

That was what was required of you when you were the Prince of a cruel and merciless Kingdom. There was to be no light in your life, as there was none in Adrian's. An internal oath to be taken at birth, when you were born into royalty in Malvat, there was no room for light or goodness, only pure darkness and maliciousness.

"Tell me what I want to know." Adrian paced around the table, knife in had still dripping the dark, garnet liquid.

"Or don't. It's really of no consequence to me. I do enjoy making my playthings suffer, however. The sound of agony is music to my ears." Bending low to say into the man's ear, he whispered.

The man, hardly recognisable by now, scarring already marred his body. New additions to be added to the collection covered the ruined man's face and arms. His legs already mangled beyond healing. He was never to walk again thanks to the King's Guards. Adrian had arrived down here just in time for the sobbing to begin, but his lips remained sealed, no useful information coming out of them. Adrian lifts his knife to the man's throat, whistling a joyous tune from a child's song book as he lightly pressed the blade to the soft skin. Just enough to draw blood, not enough to let him bleed out.

"Yesterday! She had her Becoming yesterday and the celebrations went on into the night!" Inhaling deeply, the man gulped down as much air as he could when the steel was lifted from his throat.

Adrian cocked a perfect brow at the thrashing man, who seemed to think that morsel of information had earned him his freedom. "She has come of age then?" The knife returned to the Angels throat. A man of the Royal Guard his ass. He was easier to capture than expected, only taking out two of Malvat's own Guards.

"Yes! Yes, she is to now learn the ways of ruling, and she will Ascend in a years' time."

"Interesting." A wicked grin took over Adrian's face. What a façade. It was exhausting, his inner walls crumbling as he questioned his every action. It was what he was conditioned to do. What he was to do for the rest of his long-lived life. "Looks like it's time to pay the palace in Solas a little visit." He forced a cruel gleam to shine in his eyes as he slashed the protesting guards throat. Blood spraying every which way.

Now, he must report to his dear grandfather and recite what he learned. Before one of the snickering guards down here did and caused him more trouble with their ruler than he was willing to endure.

"Dump the body. Clean this space and find me a more useful source of intel or you'll be the next one strapped to this table." He addressed every male in the room, his grandfather rather set in his ways, ordering the woman underground to participate in rather domestic roles, despite some of their particular interest in being a part of the Royal Guard. When not a soul moved, still frozen from witnessing how the Prince didn't even blink at slicing the man's throat open, the Prince snarled. Spurring all into action, bustling about, sending for maids and cleaning supplies.

The Prince of Darkness wiped his blade on his suit, still dressed from earlier, the red glinting in the light on the black of his suit. When he reached his chambers to change into something more suitable to present what he had learned to his grandfather, making sure the door was closed and not a soul was in sight, the Crown Prince of Malvat raced to his bathroom and emptied his stomach into the sink.

It was hard to face what he had to do some days. Today was one of those days. His mind kept replaying the scarred tissue of the Guards' body and the way his eyes glossed over as Adrian's knife stole the life from him.

He had to snap out of it. He had to move on. Straightening his spine and wiping the corner of his mouth, the Crown Prince looked into the vanity mirror and saw a broken man staring back at him. He could see the regret and indecision in his eyes, and he hated it. He was a born and bred killer. A monster. He was feared by all and questioned by none. If he could see these things in his dark eyes, then so could the King.

Rage spiralled upwards from somewhere deep within his chest and his fist connected with the glass as he gave a raging roar of anger. Breathing heavily, as he glanced back up at the shattered reflection- a mirror image of what he looked like inside- he watched as he forced himself to drain any and all emotion from his features. His obsidian eyes lost their sparkle and their hidden sorrows. His sharp jawline straightened as he bit his tongue to stifle the sob threatening to rise in his throat. His cheekbones hollowed out, which one wouldn't notice was from lack of self-care rather than beauty. His tan skin losing its glow as he watched the broken reflection- it wasn't his eyes staring back at him any-more. It wasn't his straight nose or his smirk. It was his father's. The epitome of cruelness, the embodiment of nightmares and one of the many the people of Malvat feared Adrian.

What would his father think of the man he had become? Would he be proud to see his son follow in his cruel footsteps? Or would he be so immensely disappointed that his kin went down the same path as him, that he didn't fight for change, for a better world? A world free of tyranny, a world free of corruption and torture. A united world.

As if he had forgotten, he glanced down at his attire. Blood soaked and sticky. The sight of it nearly made him reach for the sink again. No. he would not succumb to this self-loathing. He would ride it out, for the rest of his life if he had to. He would do what was needed of him. He would be the Kings torturer; he would kill those who needed to be eliminated and he would claim the throne that was rightfully his by birth when the time came.

But first, he needed to get out of these clothes.