It’s midday. The sun is burning high in the sky covering the woods with streaks of light through the trees. The wind rustles through the leaves. Wildlife covers the ground chirping, pouncing, sniffing undisturbed. Then ears prick up. Heads bounce up from the ground. Fear alights in their eyes. Without thinking twice, everything scurries away, out of sight at the sound of footsteps.
The Pixie Prince is alone. His golden eyes scour his surroundings warily. Several different sized sheaths decorate his belt, all with hilts poking out. But the Pixie isn’t disappointed when he notices that the creatures he had heard are nowhere to be seen. They were not what he was hunting for. His father, the King, needed more blood. His stock of blood tributes had just ran out so he needed his son to deliver some more. It was a task he did reluctantly. The Prince did not like what the blood was doing to his father. His could see the light in his eyes fading by the day. But his father always told him royalty was a burden that he needed to get used to. Soon, he would have to fill his father’s shoes. He swallowed hard at the thought. The lump in his throat left like a shard of glass. He wanted his father to live forever. He needed his father to live forever. He didn’t want to be King.
His mother had died not long ago. It was a Shifter’s doing but he knew that if that bear hadn’t ripped her apart, the Queen’s curse would have destroyed her soon after. Her death had been inevitable and so was his father’s. They have ruled for over twenty years and he can see the worry in his kin’s eyes when they look upon their King. They know he won’t last much longer. Wrinkles pool around his eyes. His pale skin is turning dull and grey. His features sag and his voice is hoarse. The blood that the Prince will provide for him will make all that go away though. It used to keep it away for weeks but now the effect has weakened. The glow will return to his eyes for no more than a day before the fatigue sets in again.
The Prince shudders and shakes the image of his father out of his head as he stalks through the trees, heading to the nearest town. As he walks, the beams of like that penetrate through the thick branches bounce of his perfectly coiffed, blonde hair, illuminating his head like a halo.
Suddenly, he freezes. The feeling of being watched sends a chill up his spine. Voices travel through the air, soft and coaxing. They whisper his name, telling him to come closer. But since that accident a month back, he has been hearing voices in his head a lot. The poor young boy he drained plays on his mind every second of every day. Shrugging his thick, brown leather jacket and holding it closer to his chest, he continues onwards.
But he freezes once more. The voices are different. It isn’t the child’s voice. Its several voices, male and female. They slither through the air and into his ears. His bright, golden eyes shine in the direction they come from.
“Yes, this way...” a female voice whispers in a hushed tone. “Don’t be frightened...”
Knowing he must test his courage, he follows the voice with determined strides, readying himself for anything that comes his way.
He passes a thick cluster of trees then pauses at the sight before him. A wall of rocks towers in front of him, sprouting vegetation. Tendrils of moss and plant-life hangs over the top, tumbling down the rocks like a thick curtain.
“Come closer...” the voices beckon.
He wavers for a moment. He has reached a dead end, how can he come any closer? But as he shifts on his feet, he peers between the curtain of greenery and notices a gap. A mouth of a cave. Gulping hard, he continues his journey. He draws back the tendrils and shields his eyes with his other hand at the blinding light that consumes him. He pauses, waiting for his eyes to adjust before he attempts to look again. The white glow pulsates then fades. The Prince tentatively lowers his hand and steps inside, letting the tendrils drop behind him, enclosing him in the cave.
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