–Lancerial-
I sighed, looking around at the ruined forest.
I could feel his power. His aura. His vile stench lingered like a sickness inside the very air of the study.
This was Ouroboros, the most insufferable piece of filth I had ever laid eyes upon.
He had short white hair that fell just past his ears, and eyes like golden coins, shining with deceit.
Golden chains coiled around his arms and waist, gleaming mockingly in the light. He wore no shirt, exposing pale skin slightly darkened by the sun.
Black pants clung to his legs, paired with golden boots laced in white.
This was the Treasure. The King's most prized possession. Other than Mirabel, of course.
Ouroboros held more authority than nearly any of us.
The trees wept and wilted as I walked past them. Nature itself recoiled from his presence.
He stood still, watching me with that insufferable grin as I approached until I stood within arm's reach.
"You put him to sleep?" I asked, voice low and sharp.
Ouroboros smiled and shrugged.
"No. He must be tired from all that power he just gained. After all, knowledge is power."
I grimaced with disgust.
"Insult me again, you vile serpent. But know that lying is useless before me."
He chuckled.
"You always did have a tongue on you, Lancerial."
I reached out and pressed two fingers into his chest.
"Do not ever speak my name. I hate the way it sounds in your mouth."
He took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"Why so much hostility? I have done nothing."
"Harming the King is the greatest offense one can commit. Lay down your neck so I may end your miserable life."
He sighed, his voice calm and infuriatingly unbothered.
"As I have told you, I did nothing. You are aware of my ability, are you not?"
I cursed under my breath.
"So it was not you?"
He nodded.
"He gifted me this ability. It is called Treasure. Upon knowing my name, you are charged with a terrible fine."
He raised his fingers and crossed them with a smile.
"I am unable to undo the effects. He was the one who created it."
I placed my hand on his shoulder. A moment later, we were standing before the King's bed.
Mirabel sat in the chair beside him, already turned toward me before I arrived.
"You took your time," she said coolly. "Did I not tell you to say nothing and just bring him?"
I bowed my head.
"Sorry."
I stepped back as she rose and placed her hand on Ouroboros's chest.
"You had a stake in that heart of yours. Shall I twist it?"
He laughed.
"Go on. Try."
Their auras clashed violently. The sheer pressure peeled skin from my body. I healed it, of course, but I was still annoyed at my own weakness.
I should have slaughtered him the moment I sensed his return to this realm.
"Listen, Mirabel," he said, his voice steady, "I cannot release him from the effects. It is his own magic. The only reason he would even be affected is if he lost his memory."
He gestured toward the bed.
"He will wake in time. You just have to wait."
Her hand plunged into his chest, fingers wrapping around his heart.
"I do not like that answer," she said coldly.
He coughed up blood.
"All I did was take what was mine before I left. And now you all hate me for it. You know damn well he would not judge me for it."
I opened my mouth to speak, but something held me back.
Then I saw her.
Mirabel's eyes darkened.
Madness crept in like smoke, her gaze becoming hazy and consuming.
She was seconds away from killing him. Her intent was undeniable.
But something stopped her.
Her eyes cleared. Her breath slowed. She stepped back.
Ouroboros healed the wound, wiped the blood from his lips, and bowed.
"I shall serve him with my entire being. However, you, more than anyone, know just how greedy I really am."
There is a reason he, Malachi, and Mirabel are the strongest of his followers.
I came after them, so I was not aware until later, but the three of them all bear a mark the mark of a sin.
That was when I finally remembered.
I glanced down at his hand, and on the back of his left hand was a symbol.
A golden snake, pure and gleaming, coiled tightly into a sphere.
And Ouroboros, he was the most greedy man I knew, a true incarnation of his sin. Greed.
***
–Nicholas–
I was cast into darkness, an eternal abyss of nothingness. Yet in that abyss, I felt at peace.
Was I already dead?
No, this was different. I was alive, just floating within the void of darkness.
I drifted silently, hearing only the voice in my head, screaming.
[In this lone abyss, the king felt complacent. He felt free.]
The voice grew louder.
[In this darkness, the king had an urge, an urge to reach out and consume it all.]
My head spun in a daze. Time felt broken. Space was distorted.
In this vast expanse, in this boundless darkness, I was free, and yet, I felt completely lost.
[This darkness was tampering, all consuming. It was the truest representation of its name, dark.]
The voice paused, allowing the thought to settle.
[However, in this darkness, a being emerged, an identity, an aspect, a core, an idea.]
I reached out my hand, but it felt as though I were being pressed down.
Then I flew, spiraling through the abyss, the world twisting around me.
It all faded, pouring into me.
In that fleeting moment, I understood the true meaning of darkness, to embrace the ideology.
The idea that all things lead to it.
I laughed in this infinite world.
In this realm of illusion and falsehood, I felt everything shatter and be overtaken by something else.
I fell, and fell, until finally I struck something, a barrier of truth, of light, of ambient reality.
I broke through and came to in a room, a white void with nothing but myself.
In the most literal sense, I was staring at… me.
He walked forward, his eyes piercing beyond my body, beyond my soul, past my name, my identity, everything I was seemed laid bare before him.
Then he spoke. His voice was a calm echo, transcendent over everything else.
"You have been playing games."
He stepped a little closer and pressed his hand into my chest.
"I need you to hurry and become strong. We have things that need to be taken care of."
I collapsed to the ground, a black hole forming in my chest.
When I looked up, I saw his gaze fall downward upon me.
"This is the last chance we have. We must survive."
The weight of his words brought me a sudden clarity, a powerful force with a bitter edge, I felt as though I was drowning.
I was drowning, lost in my own thoughts, slipping through the cracks of my mind.
This led me to a few realizations. For one, I was more of a fool than I had initially believed.
Another realization was that, while my reasons might be selfish, I had motivations behind everything I did.
I often wondered about that place I longed to reach. Just what could I have gained there??