Nine Tales [BL]

2.14 (END)

The town was bustling. Lanterns, streamers, and stalls full of fried food decorated the streets. Everyone was singing songs and laughing merrily. Children were dodging between legs, shoveling fried foods in their mouth or holding a toy that they waved through the air. Thieves were alight with happiness, bumping into careless strangers and shoving coin purses in their vests. 

It was a glorious day, one that would be written in history books and celebrated for years to come.

Prince Oscar was getting married.

The townspeople were ecstatic. Two kingdoms were becoming brothers by marriage and Prince Syn was well known as a fair ruler and handsome to boot.

The wedding was going to be held at the castle but the loving couple was going to show their faces to the public before they arrived, smiling and waving on their carriage until they reached the altar.

The guards were first, dressed fully in uniform as they marched in sync, the two kingdom's colors: royal blue and silver were equally used on the clothes. Next was the musicians, the dancers, and finally, the happy couple came into view.

Oscar was like a blushing bride, beaming proudly as he snuggled into Syn's arms. His waves were dainty and his violet hair was done up with jewels.

Syn sat with a straight back, raven locks tied over his shoulder. A powerful aura surrounded him but his smile held a benevolence.

People were cheering loudly, tossing sweet-smelling flower petals. It was a picture-perfect scene, one that was easily shattered by a rage-filled roar.

The procession halted, dancers bumping into musicians, causing their instruments to squeak out painful notes. The guards readied their swords when the air in front of the carriage distorted and the Witcher appeared.

His body smashed into the pristine white horses as if from thin air. The horses' screams were cut off abruptly as their bodies exploded under the Witcher's heels, blood drenching the carriage and the people around.

Screams filled the air, bodies fleeing, the dancer's cowering and pushed aside by the guards. Over the chaos, the signature Witcher's voice rang out.

"Prince Oscar." The fiery eyes locked onto the pale prince, it's voices screaming accusingly, wails echoing with each syllable.

"You have broken our agreement."

Prince Syn drew his sword, sweat mixing into the blood splat on his brow. "What do you want, Witcher?"

The Witcher locked eyes with Prince Syn. "Our deal has been broken. Prince Oscar failed to complete his end. Therefore, take back the life you ordered to be slain."

The Witcher grabbed the large canvas sack on his back and emptied it roughly to the floor.

Prince Casimir, human and unmoving, rolled from the sack. His leg was missing, wrapped tightly in stained bloody gauze. Visible wounds and marks were over his torso, unhidden with his ratty silken shirt. He laid still, barely breathing at the Princes' feet.

The crowd, or what was left of it, talked among themselves as they realized they were not in danger.

"It's Prince Casimir!"

"Wasn't he killed by witches?"

"Why does a Witcher have him?"

"Did the Witcher say Prince Oscar ordered his death?"

"Lies!" Oscar shouted.

"You dare call me a liar?" The Witcher's voice dropped, a dangerous edge to his voices.