Young Writers Society

A/N: Chapter two for The Last Man Standing, week 8. 1751 words.

The little boy was trembling before me. His skin, dark as ebony, felt cold under my fingers. He was afraid, like they all were at first, but I'd cure him of that in a few weeks. I liked them better when they did what I wanted out of their free will, rather than out of fear. It made things more... Fun.

“Is he to your liking, sir?”

I nodded, finally showing the smile that had been lurking in the corner of my mouth for some time. “Yes,” I drawled lazily, not taking my eyes from my new plaything, letting my gaze slide over every inch of his body. “Yes, he will do nicely. Does he know the language?”

“I don't know, sir. He didn't say anything on the way from the market, and I didn't ask. I didn't think it mattered.” I could hear the eagerness to please in every note of his voice, and it annoyed me. “I can have him returned if you wish, sir.” Like many times before I couldn't help but imagine him dead, dead and silent, like a disgusting little man like him should be.

“Lord.”

“Huh?”

I turned to him, smiling calmly. No need to upset him now. If I was going to have him killed, then I wanted his last expression to be that of complete and utter surprise. “I am one of the high lords, titled by the former emperor. You would do well to remember that. Referring to me as if I was a common knight is quite an insult.”

Despite my calm voice he paled considerably, and I could see beads of perspiration forming on his naked scalp, that already reflected more than enough light as it was. When he swallowed his double chin seemed to tremble slightly. What an unseemly, pitiful man. That he even dared to stand in my presence was beyond me.

“P-please forgive me, milord. It was not my intention to insult you.” He was trembling now, more so than the boy. “I assure you, milord, that I will never make that mistake again.” On that we could agree.

“No, you will not.” With a slight sigh I turned my attention to the boy again, letting my fingers slide over his voluptuous lips. “See yourself out, and tell one of my servants to get the emperor for me.”

I did not bother to listen to the man's answer, but instead gave in to the temptation of those lips, bending down to brush mine against his. For the first time since he was brought to me he looked up and met my eyes. His were so dark that I had trouble distinguishing the pupil from the iris, like deep abysses waiting for me to make a wrong step and fall down into the fear and defiance that rested there.

“What is your name?” He just shook his head a little, so I tried again, in a different language; one of the many exotic tongues that were spoken in the desserts to the east. He did not respond, but there was a gleam of recognition deep down in the abysses. “Don't worry, little one. I will find your language, and then I will teach you mine.” I turned towards the doors leading to the patio, resting a hand on his shoulder so that he'd understand to follow me. “Why don't we eat while we wait for the emperor?”

*

I watched with mild amusement as the young boy ate enough for someone twice his age. The smell of grilled veil, freshly baked bread and the sickeningly sweet cherry tarts was probably something divine to him. It would be for anyone that came from nothing. Considering how thin he was I could only assume that the slavers hadn't fed him properly ever since they caught him.

“Lord Rayvore, you asked for me?”

I turned to look at the young man that the meek voice had come from, flashing a sweet smile to him before gesturing for him to sit down. He did so immediately, and as he sat down I took the opportunity to grin at his clothes. The colour of the red silk was so vivid, and the golden ornaments he wore so lavish that the emperor just seemed to disappear in them.

“Do you want something to eat?” I glanced at my new plaything, who was eyeing the emperor's clothing between bites. He had no idea that he could be hanged for not throwing himself on the ground before him. “If I remember correctly you like cherries.”

“No, thank you, my lord. I...” His voice trailed off as he noticed the boy in front of him, and I frowned slightly as he bit his lip – a habit I had tried to rid him of ever since he was first placed in my care. He was just a little boy back then, a little boy with two dead rulers for parents. “You bought a new one?” He was easier to read than any book I had ever seen, his face showing all the insecurity and jealousy that he felt.

“Mm,” I murmured. “The last one wanted to travel to the west and visit the academy. I promised I'd knight him when he comes back.” And the one before that was crowned emperor. Boys grew up far too quickly, whether they were nobility or slaves.

“Oh.” The disappointment in his voice was unmistakable. Ever since I had shown him magic for the first time he had been obsessed by the thought of going to the academy to learn for himself. Luckily enough he had no predisposition for it whatsoever, and had remained my student until it was too late for him to deny being anything else than mine. “Why did you call for me, my lord?”

“Do I need a reason? Maybe I just wanted to see you.” I smirked, and gullible as he was he smiled back at me. “Though there was this one thing.” His smiled faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Do you remember the prophecy I told you about when you were young?”

He nodded like the good boy that he was. “Yes, I remember. The one about the phoenix, right? 'The first emperor with a phoenix by his side shall never be forgotten' or something like that?”

“Hmm... Not quite.” I raised my hand as I noticed my newest plaything reaching for another cherry tart and then ordered the servant that was casually standing by the emperor, waiting for an order, to take him to the baths and scrub him clean. “The witch from the legends once predicted that a hundred years after her death a phoenix would appear, and whomever it sided with would be remembered in history forever.”

“Phoenixes are just legends though, aren't they? Just like unicorns and trolls?” He sounded curious and amused, even though the disappointment from before was still there in his eyes. He had always adored fairytales - especially those about strange creatures and their magic - which was cute, but I would've preferred him in a bit more serious state of mind. The implications of that prophecy was tremendous, and even he ought to realize how precarious it made our situation. My situation.

“They are not,” I said sharply, snapping him out of that dreamlike expression. “They are as real as you and me, or at least they used to be. The last one documented lived on the southern isles, about three hundred years ago. It is high time for another one to unfold its wings, and you can be sure that if it isn't by your side by that time, you and I will lose both power and position.” He looked like he was about to say something stupid, so I carried on before he had the chance. “I have found a spell that should be able to help us locate it, and I need you to give all your knights orders to search for a sign.”

He nodded. “Of course, anything you say. What should I tell them to look for?”

“A feather the colour of fire.” As I spoke I drew that same feather from my sleeve, admiring it like I had so many times before, and I could tell that the emperor was equally impressed by its vivid colour. The magic surrounding it was so strong that it demanded to be treated with care, lest the fire should spread. “The person they're looking for will have it, and it will emit warmth in their hands – their hands only. Order them to follow this person if they find them, and wait for further orders from me.”

He frowned slightly, looking confused. “I don't understand. How are they supposed to find that person? Our empire is vast, and that feather is tiny.”

It was finally time for what I had spent most of the day preparing for. I would be lying if I said I was confident, because I knew exactly how dangerous what I was about to do was. I took a deep breath, forcing air into my lungs until it became painful, and then focused on that pain. I concentrated every bit of energy that I could feel into my lungs, letting it mix with the air there for as long as I could keep it in, but eventually the increasing pain forced me to breathe out. When I exhaled over the feather it felt like knives were being pulled from my lungs, slicing through the mucous membrane and leaving my throat and lungs feeling raw and sore to the point where I wondered if I would ever be able to speak again.

The emperor watched with big eyes as the feather slowly lifted from my hand, rising above both our heads and suddenly catching fire before darting off towards the north. “I see...”

I turned to look at him again, squinting slightly. His voice had sounded so far off, and I couldn't understand why.

“My lord?”

Suddenly a convulsing cough made my body contort. I felt the strong taste of blood in my mouth, and I felt its warm sensation on the hand I had used to cover my mouth. There was a scream, and then darkness.