SerapheX

All characters of SerapheX [a novel of the Macabre Prince] are (c) to Kyokukou/MacabrePrince 2005-2006. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or used fictionously. Any resemblance of characters, businesses, establishments, events, or locales in either actuality or by a work of another author is purely coincidental.

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“How is he?”

The boy-child snapped out of his mindless yet wandering thoughts, looking from the sky window in the tower room to the person sitting on the bed across the room, right under the bed where a teenage boy lay, hair spread around him like blue fire, eyes open and unseeing to reality, living in an all-too-real nightmare.

The ice-blue eyed boy had been found standing death-still in the middle of the weapon’s shed, blood staining his white hair, blood still dripping from the severed head above him. The boy was cold, an unnatural coldness for him being a lycanthrope, whose bodies were meant to bask in warmth much higher than that of humans. There was no one home in his eyes, no sign that he saw anything around him. His mind was lost.

What had broken the prince was not really known, but there were specualtions about the Macabre Prince from the rumors of his past history. Most lycanthropes knew that he was a human-made lycanthrope, part lion and part tiger. Rumors said many things, some so weird it was hard to imagine. No one really knew the truth, except for Zexy himself. Michael had his own theorized story for Zexy just like every other lycanthrope in the world. The prince was famous to them, a legend right in their own time because he was a one-of-a-kind liger. Michael also concluded that if Zexy had told them his past, the lykes could be happy with that since his past would no longer be so mysterious. Only then would the lykes turn their attention from him.

The human, though, raised a lot of questions. She had been a girl, a few years older than Zexy. That much Michael he’d found out when some people, both human and lycanthrope, around the area where she lived had seen them together had replied to his messages. Usually, lycanthropes living at Palazzo del Ceres were discreet about another’s past, but Michael really wanted to know just who he was dealing with. Who was Zexyphrus, the Macabre Prince, the Legendary Prince of Ligers?

They had been half way across the park when they heard Zexy yell a name, her name. It had not been because Zexy had revealed the name of the girl, finally, that chilled and started a fine trembling down the marrow of their bones. It had been the way the prince had yelled her name. It was a heartbreaking tragedy as if she had been all his hope, and when she was gone, that hope went with her. Pain. Despair. Cold. Lost. It was there, in his voice.

And there had been rage. Such rage, bottomless, never ending. It was a torment of sorts that would not heal away no matter how much the prince tried to lock it away inside himself thinking that it would disappear eventually. Rage like that would never go away. Even if Zexy found the source, took revenge, it wouldn’t be enough to bring back what was lost. Was his love for her that deep to create the abyss he carried, or had it started before her, getting deeper and deeper as he walked on carrying the few remaining pieces of himself, dropping them, losing them forever?

She did matter to Zexy, but not in the way that he was intimate with her. When the prince mentioned her here and there, it was more like he’d lost a best friend or a sister, not a lover. Then there were times when Zexy just didn’t want to admit something in his heart that was so dear to him. When Sceadiel was overly affectious with Michael earlier, he’d caught the flash of desire almost like a spark flaming to life in the ice-blue of Zexy’s eyes, before it went away into disgust. Michael had a hunch that it was more disgust at himself for denying himself that something he kept secret. So, if the Macabre Prince desired Sceadiel or something Sceadiel could do, then he wasn’t biased against gay persons. That meant that . . . that . . . Could Zexy possibly love someone, pardon, have fallen in love with someone in the world who was male?

Most likely. The question was “who?”

‘He is just like me,’ the hawk’s mind violently thought with a shock. ‘Just like me. I am one who’s lived so long, seen things, done things that I wish no one would befall into such a fate. I did love someone and lost that person.’

He had been raised in the human world when abandoned by the mother he thought loved him. Hope. He had such hope that she would come back to him, to rescue him. He waited, living like a dog inside of the basement of an elderly human couple. Why they kept him Michael was never sure about. The prejudices against him, had him falling to starvation, to sickness, to the endless beatings that would leave him bloody and broken, closer to the awaiting kiss of death. But he couldn’t die because he was still waiting for the mother who had named him Galidor. The hope that she would come for him died the night—or was it day?—when a bird made of flame intruded into his dark world.

Long plumes of feathers ran from the tops of his head to it tail, the color of crimson starting at the bottom that faded to red, then to orange, and finally ending at yellow at the tips. The feathers around its body was like it had bathed in a fountain of blood. It’s beak started at a dark orange to end at the curvature with gold. Eyes of red looked at him, flecks of gold-yellow outlining the pupils. It was as tall as Galidor had been, the same height Michael was now, but the flames of its body rose a few inches more. “Little one, little one, what be that locks you here to suffer so?”

He had known that the bird did not mean the humans themselves. “I am waiting for my mother, Beautiful Rebirth.”

“Why do you wait? Can you not have flew and to find her yourself instead of being the exotic pet for these humans that do these terrible things to you? You are a bird who hunts for prey, are you not? Why did you not hunt for you mother in the same fashion that you hunt for food, little one?”

Truth seemed to stab him, straight into his heart. “I don’t know.” He closed his eyes, hiding himself from the pain. “I don’t know.” And he knew that his meeting with the phoenix was not coincidental. Galidor knew that something was terribly wrong. That part of his heart froze. “I don’t know.”

“Little bird, I did not come to give you pain. I came because you are one of my people that I must care for. Many of the avery never have the need to see me before their eyes. They live as they are meant to, and I watch them from whence they cry of their egg to the time that they can no longer fly with freedom in the skies. I live through the hearts of those who rule the skies.

“You, my dear child, should not have had the need to see me, but . . ,” the fire bird gave a shriek of such melancholy that the little hawk was terrified of what he was to say next. “Even if you had gone to find your mother bird, you would never meet her again. To this, you would still be hoping, or if not, you would cripple yourself in grief.”

He’d known. The part of his heart that had iced over now had an icepick jabbed right through it. “Then she is gone, truly gone to the world beyond the living?” The young Galidor wished to die. His life wasted, still would have been wasted if he had gone to look for her. All for nothing.

“She did love you, but she could not be with you. Your mother was a prisoner, little one. To be with the one who fathered you, she had to pay a price. She wanted to keep you, but alas her time was running out. She had gone away to have you, caring for you for a precious little time, and then had to leave you.”

‘His voice sounded too cold at the time,’ Michael thought, thinking back at how the phoenix had said all this to him.

“I do not believe she would want you to weep for her, Sahar-bidu, child of Sahar. There are fates worse than death to the avery. Do you know what that is?”

Galidor felt the tears fall, could not stop them from coming out or the shaking of his body. “For the aves, it would be freedom lost.”

“Yes. Freedom lost. You chose to lose your freedom because you did not understand as a child what it meant. For one who loved freedom, loved the sky, that would be like losing your heart and soul, dying, fading into nothingness.” The bird’s flames rose higher and brighter, licking the roof of the basement. It gave a shriek, then smoldered into ashes before the brown haired boy. Galidor thought he left him, but from the ashes, rose a man’s hand, reaching up to grab something, only there was nothing to grab. The man’s body seemed to come up from beneath the ground, not from the ashes itself.

The avian guardian had hair of crimson that burned in flames and pooled down around him sort of like a cloak. There were black feathers dangling from the lobes of his ears, long and pointy ears. His eyes were gold-red, never mixing in with eachother and always moving around like a lava lamp but with pupils in the middle. His skin was dark, a tan a somewhat paler than the boy’s hair. Galidor had pure eye contact, not looking down. Living in the human world had influenced him, so he found it embarrassing and indecent for the guardian to be naked right before him.

“Do you know that fire has many properties, many uses?” the flamed haired being asked of Galidor as he took one step forward.

Deathly afraid, Galidor whispered, “It burns.”

Another step. “You witnessed that first hand, correct little bird?”

He was quaking, trembling down to his toes. “Yes.”

“Fire can warm you also, on the coldest of nights.” Stepping in front of the little, frightened bird, the guardian made of fire leaned down to Galidor’s upturned face, his hair enveloping him, but not burning. Not burning . . . yet. “It can also heal you.”

“Heal me? Heal me of what?”

The guardian of fire leaned down more and spoke against Galidor’s lips, “Your sickness.” Those lips covered the hawkling’s in a kiss. Galidor felt like his insides had caught on fire. In one way it was a deep pleasure that turned him on, his lower organs reacting to the twisting desire in his belly, but the other way, it was so much the opposite.

His screams were captured by the man of flame’s mouth, devouring each as if they were something too sweet to lose. Arms were holding him against the other, so Galidor’s own hands held onto the one thing he could and that was the guardian of aves himself. Galidor managed to pull his face away, to stop the burning, but still his screams went on, his back bowing in pain.

“I am the sacred bird of fire known as the Phoenix, the Healer, the Rebirth, and Guardian of the Avery. I am forever and always Arkaron. To heal you, you must die. To heal you, you must be reborn.”

Tears were blurring his eyes, streaming down Galidor’s face. Arkaron kissed them away. Then, he brought Galidor’s face to his chest, holding him while he hushed the boy who’s body was burning from the inside. “Ssh, little one. Ssh. It will be over soon. I promise. Soon you can leave this life and start a new one. Ssh.”

Galidor’s consciousness was going away slowly, his body going numb. He wanted to know something before he would slip away into unconsciousness and miss his chance to speak to the guardian. One last chance before he was barred perhaps forever from Galidor after this encounter. He looked up to phoenix of the flames and asked, “Why? Why should you care, guardian, of this one’s death of all the avery?”

“You are my beloved one. Many of the avery would never survive what you have gone through all for the sake of love. Through it all, you still wished to survive, to live on. You had hope, and you secretly had a wish that called me to you. I am not death, and I am not justice, so I cannot help many of my aves. Many of the aves forget that like so many have forgotten me. Even if you did not know me, you wished for someone to save you, not just your mother. To save you by giving you a life far from this one where you did not suffer so. I am here, Galidor. I will always be with you.”

“Guardian?”

“Yes, little one?”

Galidor smiled shakily despite the full-fledged bonfire that was burning in him. “I hope I can see you again.” The fire, the flames disappeared as the darkness came for the boy. Galidor died, was dead as soon as he no longer saw the face of Arkaron. Michael was born when what was left of Galidor was gone, not forever because Galidor had been a part of Michael. No, the personality of Galidor, the old Michael was gone.

The shadow of Galidor’s hauntings stayed with Michael for a long time over. Almost 150 years later, and Michael still held the memories of his old self, to reflect on the new self and not make the same mistake Galidor had done ever again. When Michael awoke to himself after Arkaron made his proposition, he was alone in a room, light falling across the bed sheets. Arkaron was true to his word. Michael had begun to live again. And live he did in the house of the original Palazzo del Ceres, before it was changed into a school.

It was there Michael began learning what true freedom was and what Galidor had willingly lost. For over a century, the forever-child would stay in the castle, then leave to explore the entire world for a few years. Some of the local town folk say he was a prince of sorts, others said he was a magician, and many believed the youth was an angel sent by God to watch over the people not just in Ceres, but in the world. Not true, but who could blame them for the hopes they spurned for?

Palazzo del Ceres, of course, did not belong to Michael. It belonged to Headmaster Euri’s family line, who had the respect of most of the guardians themselves due to the shelter they offered lycanthropes without having to be asked. With the respect, came the gifts of thanks to support the castle and the land it had been built on, so it could continue to be a refuge for future lycanthropes.

Michael had not been the first there, and certainly not the last. In fact, Michael’s case was special because he’d lived so long and still looked like he could go on living for half a millenium. Many lycanthropes question why this is so. Was the hawkling a favorite to a guardian? Was he the son of a guardian? Was his birth to a certain lineage the cause of his eternal youth? Not even Michael knew the answer, but he speculated from time to time.

Most of the lycanthropes who visited Palazzo del Ceres usually came because of a problem they faced in their lives, internal or external. The guardians recommended these individuals to the palace to heal them from a wound that could not be seen and could not be healed physically.

“Michael?” Asaence asked once again losing the attention of his companion, who was thinking deeply. A frown marred his ever-neutral face as he studied the hawk.

“Hm?” murmured Michael, concentrating to look and pay attention to Asaence so that his mind wouldn’t wander.

Asaence asked again, slowly as if Michael was a child who did not understand. “How is he?” Exasperation made him sigh when Michael looked to the tinted tower roof.

“Same. Nothing different that I can tell. Cats sometimes are pretty clever.” He shrugged when Asaence grinned at him. “Do you think there is a guardian protecting the prince from himself, or someone else altogether? He was damn near broken when we found him in the weapons room, unmoving, unseeing, unable to feel.” He paused. “Maybe Zexy had done something like this to she-who-he-loved, someone found out, and is taking revenge on the prince.”

Asaence was offended by the last sentence. Not for the prince’s sake, but because it was hard to believe someone could kill the person they loved, splatter their blood all over, and rip their flesh into pieces no bigger than the size of an apple. How could someone do that in cold blood? Asaence knew he could never have killed his own beloved sister that way. It was just unthinkable.

“No, maybe not, but it is something that must be questioned. Zexy is the prince of blood, and hybrids do usually have an abnormal bloodlust that many species of the hybrid’s original norm do not, well, a bloodlust more enhanced. Those are the factors that have to be taken into account to make the theory a possibilty,” Michael went on.

“This is not fucking science, Michael! Those are factors that are true, but that doesn’t mean Zexy could kill in cold blood like that no matter how enraged he was. This is murder! People’s lives are in danger. Zexy would not have said his loved one’s name if he had not seen something like this. Perhaps it revolves around Zexy himself. Even so, we have to figure it out before so many more people can be killed this way.”

Michael said nothing for a while. Then, “You’re right, Asaence. I apologize for my outrageous conclusions.”

“Do not apologize to me, hawk. You did not speak ill of me. If I were the prince, I do not think I could survive the life he walks in. People misunderstanding, blaming him as if he is the problem to everything. Then, of course, his past. Zexy is still being haunted by his past, otherwise, he wouldn’t be here at all.” Asaence jumped up to the floorboards of Zexy’s room, his hand covering the prince’s unseeing eyes, closing them so it wouldn’t disturb the tiger too much. “If he does not awaken in a week since he’s gone into this state, you do realize we’d have to call the guardians themselves, do you not?”

“I do not think we have to,” spoke the brown-haired youth from behind Asaence. “The guardians will come before that time. Zexy is too important to lose right now. He’s a liger, for guardian’s sake. Whether he’s a mistake or not, the only thing of importance is that Zexy is alive and functioning well enough, and that the legend of the ligers is true, has come true. Something humans have done right for once.”

“I do not think it was right.”

“And why ever not?” If cartoons were real life, there would be all kinds of question marks over Michael’s head. Usually cats were the more curious type. Michael, apparently, caught something from the many cats he’d brushed by.

“What the humans created was a mistake. They cannot be gods just as they cannot play as them. If the Higher Being wanted ligers to walk the earth, He would have created them a long time ago along with the rest of us. It is not of nature for lions and tigers to breed together, therefore, a liger shouldn’t exist at all.” There. Asaence said it, but he was damned if his point did not get across.

Michael gasped. “Asaence.” He took a few breaths from shock. “Asaence, do you realize what you are saying? You are saying that Zexy should not live, should not come into being. Could you really wish to make him go forever?”

“That is not what I meant. I meant that Zexy should not have lived at all. It was by force he was made. Making Zexy cannot be undone now, but I meant Zexy shouldn’t have suffered what he did. Now that I know the prince, I cannot wish for his death, but I pity him for living in such hell when he should not have had to.”

“Yes, I see what you mean.” Red eyes looked away from the prince’s sleeping form. Michael always saw himself in the prince. They both were never supposed to exist at all, but here there were, facing off against demons with nothing much to protect them. “We’ll get to it soon enough. For now, we must go the auditorium. Its been a month since the school has started and the Assembly of Virtue Pillars has been decided upon.”

“Yes, yes. ‘Six chosen at the altar / Destined stars to shine / Lead their people onward / Through journey of time.’ Sounds so sacrificial.” Asaence rolled his eyes.

Michael made a face. “I like to think anonymous. These days, anybody can lead if they put their mind to the task. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Zexy was chosen. Somehow, I don’t think his coming at the time of the Assembly was pure coincidence.”

The giggle that came out of Asaence’s mouth surprised the both of them. The young man with the black striped hair tried to hold it in, and the effort showed.

“What’s so funny?”

One look at Michael’s confused face made the giggle full-blown. Inside, Asaence was deeply mortified for giggling, but he’d worry about his vanity later. “Can you imagine it if Zexy was actually chosen as a Virtue for the Pillars? Gawd, he couldn’t even get through one class yesterday without chompiung someone’s head off. It was all quite funny, actually, now that I think about it.” The tears, gawd, he couldn’t stop the tears that sprang just thinking about how Zexy would lead a group of individuals similar to his Virtue. Hell. Zexy would definitely be in hell.

“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you. What if you were a chosen Virtue?” Michael asked.

Asaence felt like he had been slapped on the face with a wet towel. Cold. That line of thinking brought chills down to his toes. Damn. “I do not think I could stomach it.” The tiger turned a suspicious eye at the hawk. “Why would I be chosen, Michael? I am no better than most of the other students on this campus.”

The hawk’s lips turned up at the corners before he turned away, jumping down to walk out of the room. “Oh, I don’t think know. You never know what could happen around here.” He was gone from the room, leaving the door open for Asaence to follow.

“Wait a minute. Michael get back here! I demand a straight answer! What the hell did you do?!” Asaence ran after him, closing the door behind him.

The room was silent, but its atmosphere felt like it was holding it breath, waiting for something, some turn of fate, a call of destiny. A figure appeared beside the sleeping boy’s bed. The room let out its breath, but it now felt a little warmer.

The figure reached out to touch the sleeping prince, to stir him from the nightmare that had befallen him. Closer, closer. The hand was slow as if someone was messing with time and did not want the figure to touch the sacred prince of ligers. The room grew hotter. Zexy’s now closed eyes scrunched up tighter, sweat running down his face, grunts of disturbance coming from his mouth. His body consciously knew it did not want the figure to touch him. Another centimeter was lost of the space between Zexy’s form and the hand. The prince’s breathing became labored from the lack of cool air to inhale. A bit more, just a breath’s space away before . . .

Zexy awoke, gasping, eyes open wide. He moved to the side away from where the figure had stood, and fell down with a thud on his back when he had moved away too much, taking the sheets with him. Forgetting his dignity, Zexy sat up tucking his legs under him to peer over the bed to the other side.

No one was there.

Pure panic went through him. He began to hyperventilate, looking around him quickly, but did not see anyone in the room with him. A breath of fresh air hit Zexy. He calmed down, resting his forehead against the side of his bed. “He found me.” The voice that came out of Zexy’s mouth sounded hoarse. His throat hurt, and his mouth was dry.

For several minutes, Zexy lay there before he willed his weak body to stand. There was a slight shaking running down his legs, but it passed as the prince moved around a little. He’d heard voices. Asaence and Michael. They had been talking about him, which the prince shrugged off, and about an assembly dealing with virtues. Whatever the hell that was.

His stomach growled in protest. Zexy frowned. Food or duty. Duty or food. Choices, choices. He shrugged to himself. The assembly would have to wait. Screw duty. Food comes first.

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End Chapter. Next Chapter: Pith's Vie

AN: I'd just like to point out that I had to basically rewrite this whole chapter. On my computer, its 7 pages long (with a line of spacing between each paragraph and the font size being 10.) I knew I was going to go back and redo it because somethings just didn't make sense, or wouldn't make sense for what I'm thinking of for future chapters. If something doesn't make sense, please clarify it to me. Seriously. I know I'm not the best writer in the world, but I can improve.

For those of you just reading up on SerapheX, you should read Chapter 1: Forgotten One. Know this: Zexy (aka Prince Zexyphrus aka the Macabre Prince) is the main-main character. This chapter just happens to explain more about Michael (aka Galidor). There will be at least one chapter dedicated to the other main-ish characters in the future (Arkaron, Asaence, Sceadiel, Blake, and those I have yet to mention.)

Anyways, enjoy. :love:

~MP