Chapter Seven

 

B  I  R  T  H  D  A  Y : DAY THREE

 

King Mikael Von Lux had been in a better mood these days. Ever since his son woke up he has been planning a simple, yet stunning birthday dinner in hopes of kick starting his road to amnesty. 

He knew it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but it was a start.

He was also a coward.

Nearly three days have passed and he has yet to go see him. Osiris had been in a ten day coma after the incident. His little body was completely torn apart. It took three fifth tier healers just to save his life. 

He almost died.

Mikael clenched his hands. He knew that Osiris wasn’t like his other children. Where they were raised to rule and lead, Osiris was raised to love and learn. To be curious. To thrive on spontaneity. 

He was raised with love.

The man let out a heavy sigh. 

He was hoping, praying that he did not ruin his child. 

 

The prayer landed on deaf ears. 

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R  U  S  T : A LITTLE FUSS

 

Today felt a bit different than the others. Osiris was stretching as Brown whispered to Yellow about something or another. The two then looked his way. 

Predator like fuckers. So unsettling, and for what?!

Osiris stretched a little harder.

Eventually the two came over to bark their commands and Osiris felt uneasy about this one. 

He wasn’t sure why.

“Today is an easy day. Instead of your usual 50 we want thirty today.”

Osiris’s expression dropped. He was over their shit.

“Ha. Ha. So funny. It’s so funny, I’m going to cry.”

Dumb bitches know I can only do twenty three laps. I fucking hate it here.

“Enough. Run.”

“Fuck you, stupid ass piece of shit.”

And Osiris ran. 

When there was no threats of violence, no cutting words, the game changed. There was no drug to wake him up. No manhandling. They were being nice.

Osiris smiled. 

They were being nice.

Osiris decided to do two laps before slowing to a walk whenever he passed either the weapon or combat area. By the thirteenth lap the men had begun to get agitated. 

Not that Osiris noticed, he was more fascinated by how they were training. 

A lot of it was upper body and core work. They worked on their wings, while they stocked up their lower half.  When he passed the weapons area it all seemed to make sense. 

Hammers, axes, shields oh my!

It was a colorful selection of heavy metal two-handed, primitive weapons. 

Osiris looked down at himself. In his past he was terrible with anything to do with his hands. From art to baseball to wrestling, he was always a heavy handed fool. 

But soccer..

Soccer, track, dance, kickboxing, he bloomed and sprouted so high he reached the sun. He had made it, back then. 

Osiris looked back at the men.

Their halos were also interesting to watch. The younger the man the dimmer the light. Sometimes they would stand and hold a wooden sword and just stare at it. Sometimes they would scream. What was most interesting was seeing that little white light grow and stretch across the surface of their choosing. 

It would leach further and further down their wooden swords like sap on bark. The more skilled a person was, the faster that light would coat their stick. 

Working on the brightness seemed to be a different matter altogether. 

Osiris was lost in thought when someone whacked the back of his head. It was firm and left a light sting between his ear and temple. 

“What the fuck are you staring at you little fag?”

Osiris’s head snapped to the side and up. He met the man’s eyes.

“Fag?”

Those eyes. Wild, irrational, hateful.

The soles of his feet revved up, and the air shifted. The hot liquid from before was back.

Osiris stilled. 

The man took that as a sign to continue. 

“Isn’t that why the King threw you away? Little fag kissing little boys-”

“-nd and! Did you know there are FOUR types of sklinks-”

The boy was on a rant and Osiris just stood by with an awkward smile straining his face.

There were so many people here..

Osiris fiddled with a flower, pinching at the root and splitting it in two. 

It was his sister’s birthday today. Though he has only ever seen her from afar, Osiris still wanted to wish her well. His father said today he would get to meet everyone. 

Osiris looked around the garden. All of his siblings were far away, even his father was far away. 

That made him nervous. 

More children, shriller, louder, rowdier. 

The push was accidental, or appeared to be, at the time. Just a kid shoving another to get past and out of another’s way. The shove pushed the loud boy right into Osiris, smashing their faces together in a mash of teeth, skin, and pain. 

It had hurt.

Yelling, screaming, pulling, pushing, so much happened over that little fall. Osiris was scared. He just wanted to go ho-

 

Another hit.

“Fucking fag. I bet you look at your brother like that, at me like that.”

Disgusted. 

Adam was disgusted. 

“Why would I-”

“So I’m not good enough then?”

Insanity. The man had lost it. Another hit. Nothing mattered. Nothing he said, nothing he did, nothing helped. The hits kept coming.

His mother, oh god his mother. She just stood back and watched. Her eyes were dead.

He was dead.

They were going to kill hi-

Osiris stabbed the man in the thigh. 

It was bloodier than what Osiris imagined it would be. He’s never actually stabbed someone before, but he has been stabbed himself. He knew his work was far from fatal but the pain had to have hurt like a bitch. 

“Did you just stab me?!”

“What, no? I haven’t moved.”

Osiris said as he stood there with a bit of blood on his hands. Even he himself could not believe what he had just done.

What should have sent the man to the ER, instead, only angered him. The man then grabbed his collar, and punched him straight in the face. He could smell the colors after the first hit. Before the second hit came Yellow was there to stop it.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

Brown?

“He sees the King today.”

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And then he thought, ah, this is why.