A flame flickered within the darkened, hollow room, giving life to the dreary surroundings. Though this place was filled with many pleasures, comforts, so many things that the masses of the world could only fantasize of ever having, such things were irrelevant at this time. They were always irrelevant, for they could never be completely enjoyed. Not since the tragedy around twelve years ago could life be enjoyed to it's fullest any longer. Most could only hope to scrounge up what they could and live on to the next day, and do the best they possible could for their success and survival. Those at the highest points of power did not feel the sting of this pain... however there was one who unfortunately did.
An averaged size, platinum-haired boy, aged twelve, lay curled on his bed, quivering from the excruciating anguish that had occurred not moments ago. His were wings folded in, not allowing their true beauty to be seen. Of course, in his current state, beauty was not a term that could describe the child's pitiful state. With clothes ripped, scars embedded onto his frail body, and mental shock that came from the passed event... only fear, hurt, and sorrow could be seen or found at the present time.
Beside the boy, sat an odd creature, a strange one indeed. It seemed to be a wolf, but it stood like any normal human would. The Wolfen, as they were called, were dog and wolf like humanoids that interact and live their lives as two legged, two armed creatures. Though most would think of them as odd beings, they were of the Noblest of races in all of Keimusho, and even more so for this particular Wolfen. This one, clad in his Imperial apparel, took his place close to the boy, healing his bloodied wounds by the Healing arts of his family bloodline, as well as using some herbs and medicinal substances that would ease the aching within the young one's body. He was the Imperial Doctor, and was given the duty of healing the Imperial family's hurts, sickness, as well as completing various other tasks.
Sitting upon a wooden chair that was positioned right near the bed, which was covered in a purple, silky material, the Wolfen solemnly healed the boy, giving him his full attention and awareness. The room felt rather gloomy due to the depressing color of the stone which it was made from, though the soft glow of the candlelight upon the faded white desk beside him, dancing in the darkness, lifted the saddening feeling that filled this place, even if just a little.
Feeling quite concerned by the boy's well being, the Wolfen spoke his mind. "Ishka... why do you not get away from this place, escape this torture? You have a warm, generous heart, a kind soul, you do not deserve this kind of treatment. How do you not hate him, the Emperor?" With those words said, he was now waiting for a reply.
Ishka, the Emperor's son, who still looked as though he was lost within his own little world, eventually heard those words, and said the first thing that came to mind. Though he shook a great deal while he spoke, he made himself seem as though he were perfectly fine. "Y-y'know, sometimes I often ask myself those very questions. I just... I c-can't seem t-t-to force myself to flee this place, no matter how hard I t-try. No matter what he has done, or will do to m-me, I could never hate him. I still... I still love him, even when he doesn't treat me like his own son."
He turned his face away from the Healer, his face baring quite a sad expression. "Y-you probably think I'm insane or something... huh, Crome?"
Putting a gentle smile upon his face, the Wolfen doctor, Crome, softened the tone of his voice for the young child, assuring him that he was not like that at all. "No, don't speak such things, Ishka. You were merely blessed with an amazing spirit, a pure one at that."
In the back of his mind, he could help but think something else. So was your father, at one point in life. Maybe one day... that man I once knew will come back to grace his people. For now, at this time, we have a dictator... The look in Crome's eyes hardened. A ruthless one at that.
An averaged size, platinum-haired boy, aged twelve, lay curled on his bed, quivering from the excruciating anguish that had occurred not moments ago. His were wings folded in, not allowing their true beauty to be seen. Of course, in his current state, beauty was not a term that could describe the child's pitiful state. With clothes ripped, scars embedded onto his frail body, and mental shock that came from the passed event... only fear, hurt, and sorrow could be seen or found at the present time.
Beside the boy, sat an odd creature, a strange one indeed. It seemed to be a wolf, but it stood like any normal human would. The Wolfen, as they were called, were dog and wolf like humanoids that interact and live their lives as two legged, two armed creatures. Though most would think of them as odd beings, they were of the Noblest of races in all of Keimusho, and even more so for this particular Wolfen. This one, clad in his Imperial apparel, took his place close to the boy, healing his bloodied wounds by the Healing arts of his family bloodline, as well as using some herbs and medicinal substances that would ease the aching within the young one's body. He was the Imperial Doctor, and was given the duty of healing the Imperial family's hurts, sickness, as well as completing various other tasks.
Sitting upon a wooden chair that was positioned right near the bed, which was covered in a purple, silky material, the Wolfen solemnly healed the boy, giving him his full attention and awareness. The room felt rather gloomy due to the depressing color of the stone which it was made from, though the soft glow of the candlelight upon the faded white desk beside him, dancing in the darkness, lifted the saddening feeling that filled this place, even if just a little.
Feeling quite concerned by the boy's well being, the Wolfen spoke his mind. "Ishka... why do you not get away from this place, escape this torture? You have a warm, generous heart, a kind soul, you do not deserve this kind of treatment. How do you not hate him, the Emperor?" With those words said, he was now waiting for a reply.
Ishka, the Emperor's son, who still looked as though he was lost within his own little world, eventually heard those words, and said the first thing that came to mind. Though he shook a great deal while he spoke, he made himself seem as though he were perfectly fine. "Y-y'know, sometimes I often ask myself those very questions. I just... I c-can't seem t-t-to force myself to flee this place, no matter how hard I t-try. No matter what he has done, or will do to m-me, I could never hate him. I still... I still love him, even when he doesn't treat me like his own son."
He turned his face away from the Healer, his face baring quite a sad expression. "Y-you probably think I'm insane or something... huh, Crome?"
Putting a gentle smile upon his face, the Wolfen doctor, Crome, softened the tone of his voice for the young child, assuring him that he was not like that at all. "No, don't speak such things, Ishka. You were merely blessed with an amazing spirit, a pure one at that."
In the back of his mind, he could help but think something else. So was your father, at one point in life. Maybe one day... that man I once knew will come back to grace his people. For now, at this time, we have a dictator... The look in Crome's eyes hardened. A ruthless one at that.
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