Light had not reached the ground for over 897 days, and the bars in the rotten cage had started to rust, much to Ulan’s dismay.
He hated.
He hated the world.
He hated the concept of fate.
He hated.
The cave was dark. It always was, just as it was quiet. Ulan’s world consisted of staying in this crumbling grotto, left for the fate that plagues him with misfortune to take its toll, breaking his own bones and his soul.
Immortality was a curse.
Ulan wanted to die. He wanted life to end. Yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t die. Why the fuck couldn’t he die?
Those guards watched him. They watched him eat his food. Drink his water. All so he didn’t try and starve himself. They knew he was immortal. Ulan was trying everything. Everything to die.
Why couldn’t he die..?! Why couldn’t he end this fucking hell he was trapped in?! Why couldn’t he age?!
Why couldn’t he just die?
Metal bars were planted in the ground and were built carefully at the entrance, keeping anything out, but keeping everything in at the same time. In the dark, Ulan couldn’t see much but it was his everyday life. He was sealed at the very end of the grotto, with reinforced metal bars that seemed to have spiritual power on them keeping him inside. If light were to shine into this cage, there wouldn’t be much to show.
All that was in the room was a shabby, rotting wooden desk placed against the wall across from the bars, a thrown down chair just off to the side, and a disheveled looking man sitting in the corner of the room, his green eyes that used to slightly sparkle with excitement now only showed a faded, dull dark shade of green.
That green eyed man had messy, but fluffy brown hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a while. His clothes were simple, blue robes that seemed a bit oversized. On top of his head sat a flower crown that looked old, as all the flowers were wilted and the vines used to hold it up were dead, but the boy refused to give it up.
This was Ulan Iligan, the elf prince plagued with the curse of misfortune.
Cursed.
Cursed...
Especially as an immortal.
He couldn’t die. He couldn’t do anything. He was trapped, sealed in this lightless fucking grotto! If he could kill himself, he would!
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t die. They didn’t let him. They were keeping him alive. Making sure he suffers.
Because he killed an entire town. Because he was a murderer. A shameful insect. A high elf that didn’t even deserve his title that they forcefully took away.
He didn’t kill anyone.
He didn’t…
He didn’t.
He didn’t.
HE DIDN’T, HE DIDN’T, HE DIDN’T, HE DIDN’T, HE DIDN’T, HE DIDN’T, HE DIDN’T, HE DIDN’T, HE DIDN’T FUCKING DO IT!
***
Two and a half years ago, a young boy aged 15 came running into a floral decorated hall, with a smile on his face. His brown hair was brushed and well kept, and his clothes sat nicely and firm on his body. Instead of the simple ragged blue robes befitting a prisoner, he wore blue, fancy robes and a royal crown sat on top of his small head.
This elf was wearing an extravagant hairpin made out of gold and sapphire, making it look like he was wearing clothes and accessories made out of the finest starlight. These blue robes were luscious and flew elegantly past his feet. The way his robes fell and touched the ground made it so if he were to walk just a little too fast, he may trip and fall, making a fool out of his face.
In his hand was a lantern, shining softly in the light room of the palace.
In the corner of this elf’s eye, he caught sight of a white haired man in the official’s court. That white haired man wore a smirk on his pale face, with a linen cloak and hood over his head and shoulders. With a piercing gaze he laughed to himself, a malicious and vicious smile was plastered on his face as he glared down at the young, elegantly dressed elf prince.
White hair, brown eyes, a linen cloak.
“Ulan.” A voice in front of the young elf prince suddenly spoke up. The tone was harsh, as if Ulan was a child that had stirred up trouble, and was now getting yelled at and scolded by his parents. It made this young elf boy’s lips tremble, wondering what act he had done to inquire such a tone from his mother.
Ulan took a moment before he responded, kneeling down in front of the throne, “Mn?”
An elf woman looked down at the state of the currently kneeling elf prince. Her gaze narrowed down at the boy with a look only described as disappointment.
But was this disappointment, or something worse? Her eyes with that piercing glare made the prince think it was disappointing… but at the same time he felt like it was a look more telling him he had just done something unforgivable.
What did I do?
Did I do anything wrong?
The woman–who was the prince’s mother–spoke in an authoritative tone. “Ulan, you are a good kid,” she paused for a split second, but what was shocking even to Ulan, was that she stood up from her throne and began descending the steps down to the boy, “but tell me. What in the world were you thinking?”
Ulan froze.
What did I do?
He was panicking. Scared. He didn’t understand what his mother was asking him.
What did I do?
The panic was apparent on his face and body language, and he felt himself start to visibly shake.
What did I do? What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?
Ulan could feel eyes on him from every direction. When he glanced up at the balcony box, he saw that same white-haired man smiling to himself.
Did I do something wrong? What’d I do? I’ll apologize, I… I’m sorry, what did I do?
“P-Pardon me, mother, but what did I do?” Ulan spoke, his voice trying to hide an extremely obvious shake. His body was trembling, hell, maybe even quivering. If his voice quavered, his body would be soon to follow. “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about…”
Was this accusation?
A plot to frame the prestigious crown prince of Xevia?
What was this?
What was this?
..What… What was this?
What was… this?! What was this..?! What was this. What. Was. this. What was this?! WHAT WAS THIS?!
I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING I DIDN’T I DIDN’T I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! I SWEAR!
What… was all of this..?
Ulan immediately felt like a bunch of wooden trees were dropped on top of his head, and he was desperately trying to hold on, only to fall under pressure just a few minutes later.
The woman on the throne frowned, and it seemed she threw away all her proper etiquette. She was furious, enraged, it was almost like she was staring down at a disgusting, wretched vermin.
Her legs were crossed–something that the queen never did–and her blue, royal robe made of exotic and luxurious silk with golden accents became wrinkled as she did so. Yet, it seemed like the woman just didn’t care.
As if the boy she raised was just filth.
She clicked her tongue, “Are you dumb, or are you blind?” The woman’s voice only got louder, and it made Ulan want to cover his ears. This woman–his own mother–never spoke in such a disgusting manner, or raised her voice to anyone, especially not her own son. Ulan was panicking, his mind was racing.
What did I do?
That question plagued his mind.
What did I do…?!
Those words, the amount of times it got repeated, they started to sound as if they weren’t real words anymore.
What did I do?!
No matter how much time Ulan used to try and get the question out of his head, he couldn’t do so.
What did I do…
Really, really, really really really…
What did I do..?
The white-haired man in one of the balconies of this theater-like room, was now twirling a key in his hands.
When you entered the luxurious throne room, the first thing you saw was the steps leading up to a golden throne on which the queen resided. Off to the sides, were staircases that lead up towards boxes and balconies that made the throne room seem more like a theater, and the throne was just a scene on a stage, ready for the actors to jump around and put on their best performance.
Of these boxes and balconies, near the front seats, sat that white-haired man who seemed out of place for the place he was sitting in. He had that linen cloak over his head, covering the majority of his white hair that was still all over his face and eyes. He looked ragged, as if he were a beggar. Yet, there was something more behind that filthy look of his.
Something more behind that absolutely sinner, and mischievous smile.
Ulan was given another reason to shiver, as that white-haired man dressed in rags and that linen cloak kept smiling down at him, Ulan himself. Why him?
“Answer me, Ulan!” Ulan’s mother was now right in front of Ulan, demanding an answer out of the boy as her left hand slammed against the throne arm, keeping Ulan in shock.
He was frozen in fear, completely dumbstruck and unable to respond. That only made the woman holding onto him tightly even more furious, but now it seemed as if she had tears in her eyes.
“M..Mother… I… I—” Ulan’s words stuttered and sputtered out, his voice immediately quavering once again, before a sudden object was dropped from the balconies, hitting Ulan straight on the head as he let out a small yell.
The queen immediately loosened her muscles that were tensed, her eyes widened when she realized how she was demanding answers from her own son, who seemed confused.
Her tears started streaming down her face even more, the freckles under her eyes being drenched in sorrow filled tears. Her head immediately turned towards the balcony, as her muscles relaxed, she let out a sigh, controlling the anger she just had for her own child. Once she locked eyes with the key-culprit, she only stared.
Ulan didn’t understand why his mother suddenly stopped, when earlier she acted so harsh and as if she was in excruciating pain.
Just then the white-haired man from before suddenly stood up, and started clapping with that same smile, that same smirk on his face as if his applause wasn’t genuine. He started laughing, and the crowd sitting next to him, even the balconies filled with people started looking at the man. Those who were seated in balconies below or above the box where the white-haired man sat, all turned their heads towards each other and looked around in confusion. “Congratulations, congratulations!” he started laughing even more, but his clapping died down. He let out a loud sigh, and looked down at Ulan, and his mother.
“Congratulations, you were so blinded that you lashed out on your own child!”
Ulan wasn’t one to speak up, but this man’s voice…
It sounded absolutely insane.
The white haired man’s hands were then placed behind his back, and then he started his descent down the stairs of the balcony he was sitting in. His chuckling and laughing was audible throughout the entire room, and those seated in balconies and boxes above and below where the white-haired man was originally, finally got to see the source of this madness.
“That’s so funny! THAT’S SO FUNNY! Oh my, I’m going to actually cry! LOOK AT HOW TERRIFIED YOU MADE YOUR OWN SON! AREN’T YOU SO PROUD OF YOURSELF?” his voice… It was as if he was out of his mind. The man sounded crazed, absolutely insane. Ulan himself was taken aback by how… mental… he sounded.
Ulan’s mother gritted her teeth as she glared at the white-haired man. Ulan noticed how she looked as if she were annoyed, and not embarrassed anymore. Hell, she wasn’t even crying.
“Engel, what is the meaning of this?” Ulan’s mother said with a click of her tongue as she faced the white-haired man.
So his name is Engel?
Ulan looked at the man, his name befitting his features quite well…
Engel had white hair, just like the wings of an angel. His name… His name depicted an angel. Yet, why did he wear ragged clothing? It was obvious he was clean, and he seemed like an important figure. Was it a disguise? Ulan himself couldn’t really figure out why, until his own verdant green eyes met those brown ones.
It was like he was being spoken through, right into his mind.
“Ulan! What a pleasant surprise! Aren’t you typically more hot-tempered and quick to anger?”
What?
“Oh, sorry. You’re confused, aren’t ya? No worries, I just happen to have this power!~”
...
“Aww.. You’re so cold! How rude…”
Ulan had the evidence to conclude that Engel was one of the subordinates of the kingdom, a part of the ‘Lynx Prowess’, a group of mages, magic users, and enchanters that harbored these supernatural powers they used to serve the kingdom.
Ulan himself bargained with his mother to join the group, he assumed Engel was a new face that joined recently. However, given his unique… insanity… how long was this going to last? Engel seemed to have the ability of being able to telepathically communicate with anyone by just entering their mind; leaving the conversation between Ulan and Engel to continue, as Engel wasn’t leaving Ulan alone, or even leaving the elf prince’s mind.
Ulan had water manipulation, almost anything water related he could control. The rain, lakes, ice…
If the majority was water, he could manipulate it.
Including blood.
Engel only sighed, and walked over to the key he had thrown. He bent down to the floor, and picked it up. He took the key, tossed it up, caught it, and twirled it in his finger. “This child of yours is interesting! VERY!”
Ulan’s mother scoffed, but for some reason… she didn’t look at Ulan with that disgust from before. He was no longer an insect in her eyes, but her own son again.
“You, my queen, are also interesting! Ahahahahaha, AHAHAHAHAHA! THIS IS ALL SO INTERESTING!” Engel’s voice was full of insanity, even Ulan’s mother could barely handle it.
Ulan was fighting an urge burning deep into his heart not to snap his fingers and control Engel at the moment.
However, what exactly was he being blamed over?
If Ulan could remember correctly, his mother had been berating him over a topic he himself had no idea about. What was it all about? That’s what he was wondering. Yet, it seemed the topic got blown out the door, as Ulan’s mother seemed sympathetic– showing how she understood she was wrong and had jumped to conclusions.
The elf prince hoped that they could talk this out, either later or right now. Probably later, Ulan thought Engel was being unhinged and his mother would likely want to talk some sense into Engel before interrogating Ulan further.
Engel sighed, his hands were cupped behind his head now as he gave Ulan a smug smile.
“Ulan! You must be confused, right?"
Ulan’s eyebrows twitched slightly when he heard that voice in his head again. For divine’s sake, why couldn’t he be given a heads up, a ding or anything would be fine, when Engel just wanted to enter his mind and talk to him?
Also, what kind of use did telepathy have to the battalion?
Ulan shook his head, hissing at the ringing in his head. Engel let out a roaring laugh as he noticed, almost like he was making fun of Ulan.
“Hahahaha! OH MY, I’M SO SORRY! HAHAHA! AHAHA, ahahaha! DID I SCARE YOU?!” Engel’s voice projected throughout the entire room, and even Ulan’s mother couldn’t handle it. She snapped her fingers, a gust of wind flying out and sending Engel flying.
Ulan’s mother clicked her tongue, “Engel! You’re scaring my son, do you want your abilities taken away?!” she said, her voice authoritative and clear. Ulan let out a soft sigh of relief, and adjusted the flower crown on his head slightly. His mother looked back at Ulan, and narrowed her eyes slightly.
Engel only chuckled. He stood up on his feet, slowly walking back. “Woah, woah! I only wanted to explain to him what was happening,” he waved his hand around in front of him, dismissing the blood trickling down his head from the impact. “My, my… How rude…”
Ulan didn’t know why, but Engel was giving him the creeps.
Engel softly sighed, waving his finger around before speaking, “Now, let me tell you. Ulan, the darling of the divine, the righteous one…” his voice trailed off, and his eyes opened once more. His bright brown eyes almost seemed like they were leaking toxins with how bright they shined, “did you think you could get away with massacring an entire civilization with blood manipulation?”
Toxicating. Everything about this mysterious battalion member who reeked of chaos and havoc was full of toxins.
The brighter a person’s eyes shine…
The brighter a person’s eyes shine, the more chaos brought with them.
***
1095 days. Time flew quickly. Three years had passed since Ulan was trapped in the grotto without light.
“How…?” Ulan voiced out, and his eyes went wide with how hoarse and quiet it was. He hadn’t tried to talk for many years, he had forgotten the sound of his own voice. Was it relatively the same as before? Was it different? Ulan couldn’t tell, but it sounded horrible.
Ulan stood up, the blue robes he wore dirty and trashed. His brown hair was in even more knots, and it had grown out. The hair on his head that used to be well kept, pretty, and neatly done everyday hadn’t been done for years, leaving it to rot. A faint tear almost left Ulan’s eyes.
He slowly felt around, his hand touching the table. He hummed to himself, before coughing immediately as he did.
Ulan made a few humming sounds to get his throat working, yet it still felt weird. After three years, he didn’t have to talk once, and he wasn’t the type to talk to himself. In fact, his three years had been excruciatingly boring.
Ulan felt around the table with fingers, wondering if he could find the glass shard he had broken off from a glass bottle he had kept from the last time he was given last week during dinner.
Found it.
Ulan clutched it in his hand, blood oozing out from the palm of his hand. He pressed the sharp edge against his neck, before he caught a glimpse of—
A glimpse of light?
Ulan almost felt himself let out a scream of terror.
