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Ignoring the pain, he focused on the adrenaline pumping through his veins, amplifying the sounds coming from down the hall. Soft humming eased into his ears, and the faint smell of something good wafted into his nose. His mouth watered at the thought of actual food, and in retaliation, his brain slapped his heart. 'Fool. That is probably what you'll smell like when it cooks YOU.' Instantly, Horus snapped out of his daze when a voice echoed from the kitchen. "Well don't just stand there dearie, come in!"
Having heard enough stories about the cannibalistic witches that roamed the forests, Horus smiled wryly and cautiously walked into the kitchen. Clad in pink skirts and a raspberry colored apron, was a plump old woman, smiling with alarmingly big teeth. She hobbled to a ceramic bowl, and plucked a pastry up to set on a plate set in front of him. With his keen sense of smell, he picked up on strawberries and caramelized berries. Thankfully, no poison, at least none that he could pick up on. Gingerly, he picked up the small cake and took a small bite, if only to show the witch he wasn't being cautious, that he was falling for her trap. She just grinned, sharp canines on full display.
After eating enough to be able to last a few days, but not to the point he couldn't move, Horus thanked the woman and beheaded her with her own cleaver hidden in her skirts. Then he stuffed his bag full of food and ran. The old lady's body had started to dissipate, the magic concealing her true form melting away, revealing a gnarled hairless body, flesh black and twisted into unruly shapes, teeth yellow and long enough for the thing to not be able to close it's mouth properly. Milky white eyes staring at the wall, unblinking.
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Hours later, he was about to step off of fae land when a voice called out from behind him, cutting through the silence of the forest. "Horus Dupres, why are you on my land?" He jumped and almost fell into another river, before snapping his head around to stare at the owner of the voice. It took him a few seconds to realize the voice said 'my' land. There, in front of him, stood the freaking warlord of the fae nation, Ciril freaking Ellias, in all his benevolent glory.
His mouth went dry despite all the fresh running water around him, and he fingers went numb. he almost dropped his travel bag, but thankfully caught it before it hit the water. He had seen Ciril only once, when he was being escorted to the prince's court so they could question then release him. Back then, Ellias was untouchable, far away, and painfully out of his league. Now, he still was just as unattainable as back then, if not more. They had met eyes for only of couple of seconds, but his eyes glimmered a shimmery gold before turning away from Horus. He had known immediately when he heard the ambassadors calling his name.
Now, said untouchable man- no, fae- was standing in front of him, face stoic but not cold, eyes boring into his own. All Horus could see were his blonde lashes framing those golden pools of the purest honey, the soft natural flush of skin, the pale pink of his perfectly sculpted lips. His throat closed up. He would've ran away had it not been for the FREAKING CIRIL ELLIAS STANDING IN FRONT OF HIM. Instead, he cleared his throat and forced out a couple inaudible mumbles.
Horus cursed his inability to speak clearly around attractive people, and when Ciril sighed he fought to keep his face from turning as red as his hair. "Uhm, sorry- sir! Sorry sir- I was-" Ciril wrinkled his dainty nose. "Refrain from calling me sir, Mr. Dupres, and please try to speak clearly. I can barely hear you." Horus nodded numbly then paused. "Only if you don't call me Mr. Dupres." Ciril tensed, obviously not expecting this response, before nodding affirmatively.
Horus shifted around on the dewy grass and looked down at the slightly taller fae. "I-I was taken by some creature that wanted to eat me." Ciril's pink lips tightened into an unnoticeable frown. "Taken? By what creature? The one that walks around pretending to be an old woman?" He paused for confirmation, which Horus gave. "That is a menace we've been trying to eliminate from our woods. I'll have this matter handled. Though I must ask, how did you manage to escape?"
Horus swallowed dryly, "Uhm- there's no need-to hunt it I mean. I killed it." Ciril narrowed his eyes in the sun and stared at him quietly. "You.. killed it." He nodded, playing with his fingers and trying to not to initiate eye contact. And then with a voice as clear as water he asked, "Tell me Horus, how did you kill the beast that has evaded us for months?" Horus lost the previous fight to keep his blush down, and now it consumed his tanned face. "Uh- uhm I," he mumbled, "beheaded it. It's the.. only way to kill a hag witch.. they regenerate otherwise."
Ciril was silent for a count of ten seconds, and Horus was worried he was going to accuse him of lying, when suddenly the fae nodded briskly. "I commemorate you on your escape. You have unknowingly aided the fae, Horus Aveline Dupres, and I in return, the lord of our nation, grant you my mark. Should you ever need to come to our lands again, you will only have to show the mark to be let in." Horus's chest glowed underneath his shirt, and he peered down to see the royal fae sigil branded onto him in gold ink. Well, this was a turn of events.
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Hellbeast
Fantasy•-------• In a world such as ours, it's hard to differentiate between wrong and right. It's hard to remember actions we've taken. Everything's cold and cruel, and no one spares you a second glance, even if you're dying in front of them. It's hard, l...