♕ RULES OF THE NATURE ARE FAIR AND CRUEL. —

[kaleb]

The state of the battlefield was worse than he imagined.

In a way, he was paying for his own incompetence.

Perhaps he failed on his leadership, or something more. Kaleb was currently kneeling on the ground, overpowered by the being he was supposed to be stronger — infinitely better than, or at least it was what he was taught.

Ah, angels were such disgusting beings. He could see the other male, azure eyes that mirrored nothing but insanity. The few information he was able to gather about Asgard told an interesting tale - on how the mad leader of the angels ruled the whole world with cruelty that far surpassed his, on how people blindly followed - adored a being that they saw as a god.

- “…”



As for him, it felt as if he was fighting against the ghost of his long deceased father. Tière Aaldenberg was one of the many things his father died and just left for Kaleb to deal with - a war that wasn’t his, a kingdom that he never wanted, responsibilities that should have been thrown to his older brother. If things worked as intended, would it be Svein kneeling on the ground instead of him, or would that trash for a person be somewhere else?

It was these kind of thoughts that made him avoid looking at the situation at hand, although the other tyrant’s voice brought him back.

He was mocking Kaleb. For several minutes now, even. A hand grabbing his hair and forcing him to look up and stare, waiting for any signs of fight inside the crimson king.

“I expected more from you, you know. Being the son of that man.”

But there was only silence. He failed, and now he quietly was waiting death. That is what it means to die on the battlefield - that is what you get for making mistakes.

It seems that this fact only angered the other male more, as he felt Tière’s grip on his hair tighten and force his head to an uncomfortable-almost impossible-position. Words that seemed more like poison invaded his ears despite the constant attempts to block them out.

“Oh, I forgot. You don’t like to be compared, no? I wonder, what was like living on the shadow of the person who hated you all along? You’re nothing but trash, Kaleb Blackwood. You have this position because no one else wants to. You are there even though he never, ever liked you.

“Jörn Blackwood’s son”, how does it feel to be compared to your father all the time?”

And then he could hear laughter. He was laughing at him - as he always was - diminishing Kaleb and rubbing at his face how worthless and incompetent he was.

How he was the son of that whore of a woman - one that his father only kept at his side to produce his heirs and then forget all about his existence - how he was foolish to cling on to his mother as they were both completely dejected as his father kept giving attention to his brother, how he cried when his mother died in front of him, how he was the one to bear this burden and how he FAILED MISERABLY AND HE WAS MAKING SURE KALEB WAS AWARE OF IT by suddenly forcing his head down and stare at his own blood on the floor - armor mangled and laughter echoing around him.

He would never stop.

They would never stop.

The world would never stop pointing at his failure and how his father would never do something like this.

“So I am going to give you a gift! It would be boring to end you now and miss the chance of stepping on your shattered pride later… so I am going to make you even more similar to the person you hate. How about that?

I am sure that this is something you are dying for, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

It was a spy. They probably had a spy somewhere inside his kingdom for all these years(despite Kaleb’s efforts on keeping an eye out for them, eliminating every single threat and anyone that seemed suspicious). It was how he had so much information about him, and the demon was left in the dark about his enemies abilities that weren’t included in old reports.

That was why Kaleb was in this situation right now.

He left no room for the albino to react, still holding his hair and forcing his head still, now upwards again. For the demon to always look up at him, for he to…

… look? He was at a loss. His hands - his fingers were dangerously close to Kaleb’s right eye, nails touching his skin gently… for a single second.

What was happening made a scream escape his lips. He could feel fingers invading his body - almost as if they wanted to reach his skull and crush him and they kept reaching out and curling around what it may be his eye and—

- “N…no, wha… what are you doing. Stop.

No. I don’t want this. Stop…. I TOLD YOU TO STOP,

I—”

— pulling it out. He was going to die, he was definitely going to die because he did not want to be alive right now this was far too humiliating this was far too cruel he did not he did not want this he did

there was blood everywhere he could feel his mind going blank he could feel despair he could feel himself being completely overwhelmed;

And then the other was yelling, completely ignoring his plea.

“YES, SCREAM FOR ME. THAT IS WHAT I WANT TO HEAR OF YOU. SCREAM AS YOU REALIZE HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE.

SCREAM FOR YOUR DEAD MOTHER, SCREAM FOR ALL THE DREAMS THAT THEY SHATTERED, SCREAM LIKE THEY NEVER ALLOWED YOU TO.

YOU ARE JUST FUCKING PATHETIC, KALEB BLACKWOOD.

YOU ARE A DISAPPOINTMENT, JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER TOLD YOU SEVERAL TIMES.

IT IS A MIRACLE YOU ARE STILL ALIVE NOW, TRASH."

No response. His own face was covered in blood, brain screaming that something went terribly, terribly wrong as his empty eye socket seemed to throb as to warn him for the obvious lack of eye - and his vision went dizzy for a second.

He wanted to black out and simply stop responding, but the man forced himself to stay conscious just because he wasn’t allowed to do something like ‘lose consciousness’. What kind of a king, what kind of a person would he be?? Such words kept resounding on his head all the time.

… Ah.

“Retreat, all troops retreat!! We are not wasting time with this any longer.

I hope you are happy with this, Kaleb Blackwood.”

Ah no.

His mind ignored, but his body finally reacted to the situation.

- “Ur—rr——”

There was now vomit next to his knees and boots, mixing with blood and leaving a fairly unpleasant noise in the air. Even if there wasn’t anything he could do about it… and even if the situation was about to get worse, face wet with tears, sweat and blood.

“We found him!! Call Cantorix over, it’s an order!”

No, no he could not see him in this state, no.

He could not see Kaleb because he failed he failed failed failed failed failed he will get angry but then again it is all his fault it was all all all of it was his fault he was incompetent he was prepared for the punishment but even so even so he was scared he was shaking in pure fear even if he was screaming in pain again he barely reacted but now he was trembling violently be it by blood loss or fear or both or

… his hand kept covering the right part of his face, desperately trying to cover the lack of his eye and not trying to show how bad his injuries really were; he would have to apologize he was already apologizing as Alistair gradatively came close to him please don’t come near me I am sorry I promise I will do better next time I won’t fail you I am not a failure I am not I am not I am sorry I am not

am

I———

- “Aa…aah…. I’m sorry… Alistair…”

Comments

[kaleb]

He could feel himself drifting away, then slowly coming back... Kaleb lost track of time. Hours and minutes seemed to merge with days, both his stubbornness and tired body agreeing that ignoring Alistair's existence was the best for now.
He'd sometimes wake up and stare at his empty room, making no effort to get up and simply let his body feel like it's sinking into the bed. It was a waste to make any attempts of leaving this place, or... trying to talk with him.

It was difficult. He could always feel when Alistair entered the room and he was still pretending to be asleep, he could always sense him sitting right by his side and leaving when it was late enough for him to rest.

It was difficult for him to ignore Alistair that way, but a stubborn part of him could not accept what happened days ago. To dismiss his feelings, dismiss how worried and desperate he was that way... for way too long Kaleb kept telling himself that there was still a part of Alistair that cared.
He found out that this was incredibly hard to believe in now.

This was leaving the young king with too much free time. Usually he'd just distract himself with paperwork or training, or whatever was available to him that moment. Working makes you take your mind off what is haunting you, and being confined to that bed was anything but pleasant. He had too much time to think, and too much time to dream... even if his own dreams would find a way to turn themselves into nightmares, waking him up at odd hours shaking and sweating. Still... he had no motivation to scream.

He had no motivation to make a single sound.
If he could rot away on that place, it'd be just fine. If he could sleep forever, it'd be just fine.
To not open his eyes ever again. To not face reality ever again.

All of those. They were just fine. But he was still alive, to protect and to fight for a country he never loved or ever truly cared for. He was still alive, he still had his role as a king... and that only meant that he'd have to stand up and fight once again. That only meant that he was not allowed to die.
... That only meant that Alistair did not allow him to kill himself.

The sound of the door clicking open made Kaleb halt his thoughts, closing his eyes and pretending he was asleep. Pretending, just like a kid who refused to go somewhere that he did not like.

Like the previous days, Alistair attempted to talk. And like the previus days, all that he received was silence. Kaleb was fully aware of how childish this act was, and how it'd only hurt himself in the end. This was only delaying his treatment, this was only making things worse. He knew that very well.

... Still, he could not stop feeling like someone was repeatedly stomping on whatever was left of his heart and soul whenever Alistair was close to him.


It was only when his father was mentioned that he opened his eyes, rage swirling inside his body and threatening to spill out like venom.
This was not only a blow to his dignity, but something he never thought Alistair would be capable of.
Of all people, he honestly believed Alistair would be the one who would always act in a respectful manner about this issue. To insult him that way was...
... was...

...

... Kaleb found himself not being able to restrain his own words as they left his lips.



- "... Perhaps my father would be proud that I am just like him now. Perhaps my father would not call me his pathetic son if he had the opportunity to look at me now, resembling him not only physically but in every action I take."

He did not make any move to sit down, but Kaleb insisted on maintaining eye contact with his guardian.

- "...Or perhaps he would be satisfied with himself? That he ditched you all to begin with. So he wouldn't end like this.
So he wouldn't end like his pathetic son, who was never meant to be anything. His pathetic son, who could not do anything without relying on someone else for support.
... I guess it doesn't mind for you anymore, you simply did what was asked of you. And perhaps a bit more, perhaps you indulged yourself a bit?"

Pause.

- "...I am not proud of myself, however.
I have never been.
I am not him. I dedicated my entire life trying not to be like him.


...
But sometimes I think I cannot escape from the fact that everyone thinks I am.
...
Alistair."

... How many times did he want to cry? And was he crying now? He honestly felt so numb...

- "... I am so tired of this. I don't think I can hold on much longer."