28[[AN: Hello, hello. So I know I've disappeared for the last couple years (my bad...) But I'm about to graduate college (sad) and suddenly felt an urge to write. Usually, I spend way too much time planning stories out and get tired of them before I even write, so this time I'm trying something new. I'm trying to just go with the flow, and see where the story takes me. I'm also trying to create new characters, because I feel my other stories all had similar characters.
Ironically, this is in the same Universe as Skin Deep and Last Singer (lol). So, yes, there is some colloquial talk because thats HOW I WANT IT. Its my own world, I can do what I want. Anywho. If you're awesome enough to be giving this a try, THANK YOU SO MUCH and I hope you like!
ALSO, since I'm trying the write-as-I-go, reader SUGGESTIONS or what youd like to see happen are WELCOME. Thank you. :) I love you.]]
Copperlily: Chapter 1
"Shattup ya cur!" a strong muscled man yelled as he slapped the younger fair blonde again. "Ya' be bringin' curses on mah ship incitin' the ol' names!" He raised his hand to strike again, but choked as a leg broke against his midsection.
"The boy will be given to His Majesty with the rest of the loot, as prize," came a cool voice from an even taller man with a harsh glare in his eyes. "You will not mark him any further."
"Please," choked the smaller body below him. "You have to let me go. The Elders will-"
"Enough," was the disgusted order. "Charles, lock him up in the spare cabin in the main hull. Do not touch or harm him, are we clear?"
"Sir…" the gruff man obviously wished to continue his argument against the heretic, but was quieted with one angry stare of the captain.
Seram stared blankly at the wall of the bathroom as a young girl pulled a comb through his hair over and over. They had only docked into port of the grand capital of Sencaln that morning, and he was now being cleaned and prepared thoroughly to be presented as a plundered gift to the king.
"Yer hair's pretty," the slave girl chimed meekly from behind him. "It almost… shimmers, like."
"Thank you," he replied, only barely paying attention. His mind was wracked with questions. He had been on that cursed ship for almost a week, and was surprised when his Provident did not intervene in any way. Weren't the Ancient Young supposed to be protected, and any threat immediately struck down? Was there something he was supposed to have done to invoke the Provident's protection?
Well, he had never actually been possessed in the time of his service to the Ancient Young. Perhaps he was never actually a chosen, and the Elders had made a mistake in taking him from his home twenty years ago. The Elders' teaching quickly filled in his memory: Wrong. The only thing that happens to a chosen is what the Provident wills. You will be where you are supposed to be.
And I'm supposed to be here, being given to a psychotic king as a pet? he thought with a bitter sigh. However, he had been the one to sneak out of Home and run miles away to the beach. Maybe this was his punishment, to teach him to stay in place. Is it so much to ask to see more than those stone and crystal walls all day? he stared at a floor. Though, he had not seen much else in his week of "freedom" either.
He was snapped out of his reverie when the door slammed open and the angry looking captain from the ship appeared. Not listening as he was shoved out of the room and down various flights of stairs and corridors, Seram attempted to think of anything except what was about to become of him.
"Just look at him," the pasty human clothed in fine garb and rich jewels whined. This was the infamous king of Sencaln, Ferom. "He's so… ugly."
"But your majesty," the large man who had been Seram's captor for a week now argued, "we retrieved him from the-"
"I really don't care where he's from. To be honest, he looks like he came from a mud pit. What's wrong with his hair? He looks dirty. Ugh…"
Seram stared quietly at the ground, a mere eyebrow raised at the floor in response to the comments on his looks. Typically, those chosen to be Ancient Young were deemed exceedingly beautiful, especially with the mark of a Provident blessing them. Just one more thing to add to his list of doubts of ever actually being blessed…
"Shall I deliver him to the game houses?"
"Tch, there's no reason to kill him so early," King Ferom mused. After a few moments of thought, he chuckled to himself while picking grapes off a vine. "Actually, if we're going to use him as a sacrifice I have a much better place to put him…"
Seram dared to glance up through his bangs at the skinny glutton to see the twisted grin that accompanied his final order. "Send him to the Shadows."
A deep breath that almost sounded like a sigh of pity echoed from the large man for a third time as he dragged Seram behind him on a rope tied easily around the boy's neck. Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point, Seram decided to attempt conversation. "So. The Shadows. What is that?"
Rather than harsh berating or an order for silence, the caretaker glanced at him. "Well. I only took you because I thought you were attractive enough to fit His Majesty's taste… He doesn't like it when we don't bring back gifts. But if I'd known you were going to the Shadows I'd just as soon have killed you on that beach."
"Brilliant," Seram muttered. "I'm being sacrificed to demons." How fitting for someone raised in Provident texts…
"Not quite… but the ones before you all disappeared so… who knows," muttered the large man as they stopped in front of a quiet tavern. When they stepped through the doors, Seram began wondering exacty what in the name of the realm of death they were doing when the bartender came to stand between them and the fireplace.
"Were you followed?" the fat man asked.
"No Pete," replied Seram's captor. "I take my duty as liaison very seriously, you know?"
Pete stared blankly, as if refraining from revealing his true opinion on the matter. "And the kid?"
"Another gift."
A sigh. "Well, the alarms didn't go off when you walked in. I'll announce you."
Seram watched in surprise as Pete the bartender waved his arms around in a magical release, revealing a tunnel through the fireplace to a dark room. Sound echoed into their ears, as if a faraway place were calling to them. Without another blink, they entered the darkness and almost simultaneously emerged into an extra large tavern style room with no windows and seemingly hundreds of very loud people.
Seram wished a hundred times over he had fallen off the ship into the ocean or killed the second everyone in the room stopped talking and turned to stare. This, obviously, could not be good. He was even more convinced now he was not a true Ancient Young…
"Great Shadows," Pete began; bringing Seram's attention to an unnecessarily large chair that looked more like a throne at the head of the room. A violent looking white bear head draped the top of the seat, its teeth suspiciously covered in what looked like dried blood. "The… royal liaison has paid us a visit this night."
A rumble of laughter filled the room, showing just how much say any royalty or their dogs had in this place. Seram's still nameless captor quickly knelt to one knee, touching his forehead with his left hand before crossing his chest with it. "Shadows, I come in peace on behalf of His Majesty Ferom, with hopes that you will accept a gift of good fortune."
"Do you?" came a deep, almost raspy snort from the chair. For the first time, Seram realized the darkness inside the chair was actually a human being draped around the edges. He stared silently, his conciousness being sucked in by some unknown gleaming force. The large figure was built strong enough that his physique was easily discernable beneath the layers of cloth, buckles, and weapons. No part of his body was left uncovered except the skin of his face, paler than any of the crystal walls Seram had been kept behind at the Home. The man's mess of shadows for hair covered disturbingly gleaming eyes of emerald and gold. Every inch of this man commanded power, respect, and more importantly fear.
Seram only looked away when a tough jerk on the rope around his neck sent him tumbling forward. His now former captor handed the end of the rope to Pete, who in turn handed it to a tall redheaded man standing next to this icy throne of shadows. Every step closer to this incarnation of darkness stole more and more of Seram's breath, leaving him lightheaded. What was wrong with him…?
With barely a sound, the man stood and touched the tip of Seram's chin with a gloved hand. "And why am I gifted with yet another lithe body to enjoy?" the Shadow man drolled.
"His Majesty Ferom recongizes the Shadows' presence upon the streets of Sencaln, and your help to the keep of order under his divine rule."
"Oh!" the emerald eyes tilted with mirth. "Did you all hear? We're recognized…" Laughter once again sprang through the room, but was quickly quelled when a voice screamed out some obscene blasphemy.
Seram barely registered his former captor grunt and roll to the side as he was suddenly crushed into the hard body of shadows before him. Every nerve on his body shook, too afraid to move against whatever was happening. After what seemed like only a few seconds, a young man with crazed eyes and strangled hair was being held down before them on the ground.
"Are you mad?" yelled the redhead from earlier. "What in the gods' names do you think youre doing while in the presence of the Shadows!"
The man who had brought Seram to this place of darkness stood with a growl, picking a knife from his shoulder. "That had better not be poisoned you-"
"My sincerest apologies Baron," was the cool shadowy voice. "I swear to you this was no planned attempt upon your life…"
"Apologies accepted, Shadows, however… this is a breech in our contract. How will I explain to His Majesty…"
Still clenched in the iron grip of the immensly large shadow-man, Seram was forced to step forward with him.
"Shadows!" the crazed man screamed, fighting against the men who held him down. "I was only protectin you sir! These royalty dogs can't be trusted, none of 'em! And the whore! He most likely a trick, to set you with some disease or magic sir! I was only helpin'!"
Whore? Seram's eyes widened. He knew something like this was most likely going to happen, but to hear it set in stone… Surely, his Provident would kick in any moment and save him…
With the slightest gesture from the Shadows, the man was released. Crouching before them, he continued to blather his reasoning.
"Tell me," Shadows started in a cool, collected voice. "You blatantly attacked a liaison from the royalty in front of me, in full knowledge of the rules that our contract binds us. And what's more…" Seram jerked when a gloved hand ran past his arm, revealing blood. He had been hit by a knife as well… "You scratched my present," Shadows licked a bloody finger. "Exactly how can you atone for this?"
"I… I cannot milord," the peasant began blathering again, begging for forgiveness.
"True," was the only reply.
In a swift moment, quicker than Seram even realized, Shadows had palmed a weapon and beheaded the man in mere seconds. Blood covered the crumpled body and previously stained floor beneath. In shock, Seram merely froze in place next to his new owner, eyes wide at the scene. Shadows' body held no resistance; no second-guessing… there was never even a change in his calm breathing as he had sliced.
"Does this make up for the travesty commited against you, baron?" Shadows addressed the other man, obviously just as shocked as Seram.
"Of course, Shadows," he bowed, purposefully not looking at the boy he had just handed over. "You are truly the ruler of Sencaln's Underworld. His Majesty Ferom will be most assured by your quick and trustworthy actions," he cleared his throat. "And will be glad to hear you… approve of your… gift…"
"Of course," Shadows' voice was completely pleasant- not the voice of someone who had just beheaded a man.
After the baron's quick exit from the tavern, denying medical treatment and food, the liveliness of the place picked up once again. Seram found himself seated at the foot of the throne, his eyes still wide and breathing shallow. Distressed in his thoughts of what he had ever done to deserve this happening to him now, he jumped when a hand landed on his head softly. Barely glancing upwards, he found the Shadows, master of the Underworld of Sencaln, stroking his hair absently.
No, there was definitely no way he was blessed under a Provident. Seram was here on his own…