Sordid Families

The kiss was sweet and bitter, a strange mix of medicinal tea and alcohol. Ran’s eyes were wet with drowsiness, and as he gazed at Dani through drooping lids, he couldn't help but smile. He tilted his head back and let out a childlike chuckle, collapsing onto the soft pillow. His eyes fluttered shut, and within minutes, his breathing evened into a steady rhythm. This time, he was truly asleep.

Dani sat there for a moment, stunned. He raised his hands to cup his burning cheeks. “What a day,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Yielding his bed to Ran, he moved to the other one and settled in. But sleep evaded him that night.

Prince Anu awoke to a dull ache throbbing through his entire body. His room was a bustle of activity, surrounded by shuffling healers and worried servants. His previously injured left eye was now useless, shrouded in darkness, but the more worrisome thing was that he couldn’t feel his legs.

A healer, her face etched with concern, leaned close to his bedside. “He's awake,” she announced to the room, “How are you feeling, Your Highness?”

Indeed, how was he feeling? He couldn’t say for certain. A primal urge to rise coursed through him, but the healer’s hand, pressed him back onto the pillows. “Don’t be foolish, child,” she whispered. “You’re in a terrible state. Rest for now, alright?”

He felt a surge of frustration, a prickling heat that rivaled the pain. But he knew better than to argue. The flurry of activity resumed, a constant murmur filling the room until the late hours. Finally, around midnight, the intruders in his chambers exited.

Alone, Anu turned his attention inward, assessing the damage. With a jolt he let the horrifying truth settle in – his legs were paralyzed. Healers could mend broken bones, but this? This was beyond their reach. His eyes started stinging, but tears would not come. Rendered even more useless, he thought to himself.

Closing his eyes, he pictured the shimmering portal materializing.

His spirit ripped free from his broken body. He focused, willing his core essence to expand beyond the familiar white sphere, tendrils of energy weaving into the form of a man. He looked towards the portal, but before he could step through, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the night’s quiet. Anu banished the portal with a thought, a frown creasing his brow as the door creaked open.

“Come to finish the job, are we?” he thought with bitter humor.

A hooded figure entered, lighting a candle that cast flickering shadows across the room. The figure settled on the couch beside his bed, watching him with an unnervingly stoic silence. Confusion gnawed at Anu, and with a sigh, he retreated into his physical form.

After a moment’s deliberation, he feigned drowsiness, shifting uncomfortably in the bed despite the limitations. Slowly, he cracked open his eyes, squinting at the light. With a bit of effort, he turned his head, locking his gaze with the figure.

The figure stirred and leaned closer. “Do you need anything, Your Highness?”

“Are you here to kill me?” he rasped out, his voice hoarse.

The figure, a young man by the sound of his startled gasp, stammered, “My job entails keeping you alive."

“Oh, you’re a hired knight?” Anu asked.

"Yes, Lady Asha affixed me with the task of guarding you until the wedding.”

Anu sighed, “I would rather die.” He squeezed his eyelids shut, the futility of his situation washing over him.

Panic gripped the Reyes estate. The lanterns of souls, glowing beacons symbolizing the life and prosperity of each family member, had dwindled one in number.

Raja Aram’s lantern, once a vibrant green, was now dull, its flame extinguished. Elissar, wracked with grief, wept openly for her lost son. However, Hani, the family’s Patron, was nowhere to be found.

Reyes watched, a cold knot forming in his stomach, as his siblings rushed to comfort his mother. His ailing sister, mirroring his mother’s tears, was holding back sobs. He couldn’t help but wonder how she’d react if she knew the truth – that she was the original sacrifice.

The simmering anger in his veins refused to subside. Distrust gnawed at him. His family life had always been a loveless affair: an absent father, a mother more concerned with appearances than her sickly child. Now, a new suspicion arose. Had she known all along? Had she raised this daughter for slaughter, justifying years of isolation?

His internal turmoil was interrupted by his cousin, Malik, who grabbed him roughly and dragged him to a secluded room. Once out of earshot, Malik’s voice turned fierce. “What the hell happened?”

Reyes, schooling his emotions, acted dumb. “What do you mean? Raja’s lantern went dark. He must have passed away.”

“Don’t play games with me, Reyes,” Malik growled. “I know Raja took you to the ritual. You weren't supposed to return. What happened?”

Reyes, his heart pounding, offered a noncommittal reply, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But he suspected the demons had finished what Raja started.

Malik’s voice dripped with venom. “You think this is over? Your little stunt just increased the body count!”

Monday came buzzing with news.

Daveed, a whirlwind of energy, burst into their usual huddle, brandishing the daily paper. "Did you guys hear?" he panted, not waiting for a response. "The crown prince of Scorpia, Anu, bless his name, tried topping himself! Jumped from the highest castle tower, they say. Paralyzed from the waist down."

Reyes fidgeted with his shirt, noncommital. Dani, who strategically placed himself as far away from Ran as possible, showed no interest. Breaking the silence, Ran drawled, "Surrounded by gold and debauchery, must be a real tough life."

Daveed tutted. "Rich kids. Never appreciate a thing they have."

Frustration simmering, Reyes pushed himself to his feet. "We'll be late for class." He stalked off, Dani rising to walk at his side.

The usual back-row seats awaited at the stadium. Professor Gregory, however, seemed to be cultivating a fondness for arriving late.

A sudden movement startled Ran. A translucent figure, unseen by the others, materialized before him. The ghost's face, a swirl of hazy light, held surprisingly piercing eyes. It locked its gaze on Ran, a frosty irritation etched on its incorporeal form. With a dismissive snort, it drifted through a chair and settled into the empty seat.

Ran pinched Reyes, whispering, "Look there," gesturing to the phantom's seat. Reyes raised an eyebrow. "The chair? What about it?" Ran grumbled to himself. Apparently, his paranormal sightings were increasing.

A breathless Professor Gregory Tamraz finally arrived thirty minutes late, barely masking his exertion. The class, by now rowdy, resembled a cacophony that could likely be heard down to the neighborhood. Unfortunately for the professor, Principal Mostafa trailed close behind.

The principal's cane clattered against the floor, demanding silence. The crowd quieted. However, Principal Mostafa's ire wasn't directed at the students. He leaned in, his hushed words causing the professor to blush and slump in defeat. Daveed mouthed to Ran, "What'd he say?"

Ran scribbled the principal's words on a piece of paper: "Quit your shenanigans or find a new job!"

"Scandalous," Daveed whispered, earning a booming "SILENCE!" from Principal Mostafa. With a final click of his cane, he exited the room.

The phantom observed the scene, huffing and looking away whenever its gaze met Ran's.

The rest of the day dragged on, devoid of spectral sightings. Just before the second break, the phantom materialized in front of them again. Daveed walked right through it, oblivious. A startled Ran stumbled, but Dani caught him before he fell. Stepping back afterward, awkwardly.

"Tell your friend to stay inside," the ghost rasped. Recognition dawned on Ran. "Little White Ball? Is that you?" Ignoring his bewildered friends, he lurched after the phantom, who simply vanished. Ran sighed. "Guess he's still mad."

Concerned, Daveed asked, "Hallucinations too?" Ran rolled his eyes, then pivoted towards Reyes, remembering the phantom's warning. "Might wanna stay in class. Trouble outside."

"Translucent green butterfly tell you that?" Daveed questioned, earning a knock on the head from Ran. "What's gotten into you?"

Daveed muttered a vague "Nothing," and continued walking. Ignoring the warning, Reyes marched ahead. As he stepped off the final stair and onto the playground, a mob of the Aram clan students at Hyacinth High intercepted him.

“Hey Reyes,” said the boy at the front of the crowd. “Malik asked us to give you a message.”

Reyes narrowed his eyes and squared up to the older boy. “Yeah, what is it?”

The bigger boy threw a punch, connecting with Reyes’s jaw. “He said stay in your lane if you know what’s good for you!”

Reyes clutched his throbbing jaw, his gaze fixed on his second cousin’s face. A metallic tang filled his mouth. Spitting a bloody glob onto the ground, he lunged at the boy, knocking him to the dirt. They grappled in the dust, Rostom gaining the upper hand momentarily. Reyes’ punches, fueled by anger and vengeance, were wild and ineffective leaving the onlookers gaping in shock.

One of the Aram clan kids intervened, grabbing Reyes by the hair and hauling him off Rostom. This provoked Daveed to join the fray, and Ran soon found himself dragged into the chaos. Flailing limbs and flying insults replaced any semblance of controlled fighting.

Drawn by the second outburst of the day, Professor AzVard slammed his wooden cane onto the ground, his face contorted with fury. The two thumps instantly separated the brawling boys, who now hovered in midair held by unseen forces. Even suspended by invisible strings, Reyes, propelled himself closer to the oldest boy and landed a solid kick to his chest.

Threatening to turn them into human popsicles, Professor AzVard gestured the troublemakers towards his office. Their parents, he informed them, would be receiving an invitation to a lovely little chat, and each student would be facing a hefty dose of detention from all their professors for their disgraceful behavior.

Exiting the principal’s office, the brawlers glared at each other in mutual disgust. A bewildered Daveed patted his friend’s back, attempting to soothe him and hoping to avoid another fight.

Meanwhile, Dani found himself back in the library, browsing the towering shelves. Hyacinth’s library offered a deceptive sense of peace. Perhaps, it was because visitors were rare, and those who did come were studious types.

Professor Gregory sprawled comfortably on one of the majlis seats, an old, heavy tome propped open in his lap.

Dani saluted his professor and, selecting a random book, settled in another section. The book, on the customs of Scorpia, held no particular interest for him. However, Professor Rina’s warnings about his “pickings” echoed in his mind, and he’d become more discreet in his choices lately.

Professor Gregory rose and approached Dani. “You’re in my class, aren’t you?”

Dani nodded silently. The professor continued, “Interested in history?”

Dani offered a meek reply, “Just browsing.”

Professor Gregory, however, was already turning towards the shelves. He picked out a book and handed it to Dani. “This is a far more engaging read. Your current choice glosses over much of the region’s true history.”

Dani’s interest was piqued. He looked up and asked, “How so?”

Professor Gregory considered for a moment, seemingly debating how to answer. Ultimately, he decided on honesty. “As you know, victors write history. But one-sided accounts are rarely accurate.” Dani nodded in agreement.

Seeing his student’s attentiveness, Gregory continued, “Once upon a time, the balance of power wasn’t so clear-cut. Our lands were home to elves, dragonslayers, and even demons. Now, they exist only in shadows.” A nostalgic look flickered across his face, and he shook his head slightly. “Anyway, this book details more epic battles. If you enjoy it, I can recommend a few others.” He smiled at Dani and turned to leave.

“Thank you, professor,” Dani said softly. Professor Gregory stopped as if startled from a daze. “What’s your name?” he asked, a slight hint of shame in his voice. “Large classes can be overwhelming,” he chuckled apologetically, “I sometimes forget even the names of students I’ve had for years.”

Daniyel took no offense, answering, “Daniyel Ali.” Professor Gregory’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, then a smile returned to his face as he bid farewell.

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