Just like each day, when the nightly veils fell upon him and his surroundings, Lutiel stood in the middle of the room, only the mellow light beyond the windows engulfing him. The mark around his hand didn’t glow bright, however, and he made no effort for it to do so.
Standing calmly, he steadied his breath while steeling his resolve. From the ground, his right leg quickly raised itself up towards the ceiling while keeping it as straight as a pine’s trunk. With his soles facing opposite directions, he remained in the position for a few moments.
Yet, after falling down while his skin coalesced the film of sweat into droplets, he repeated the same motion with the other leg, changing through them intermittently before his face began to drip down teemingly with sullied fluids.
The man quickly delved to his arms upon the floor, only to once again raise his legs, but rest them there instead. Out of nowhere, his head banged into the wood below him as he fell deliberately, pushing with all the strength his arms possessed back up and resuming the same approach.
However, after a few times of repeated hitting, above the small pool of sweat that came about from trickling down his nose, Lutiel slowed down with the push ups, taking slower, but deeper breaths into his chest.
Not long after, he let go of one of his arms, while the hand of the other quickly sprawled out to catch balance.
Slowly, yet steadily, he trailed down before pushing up, doing the same thing over and over. Only after his other arm experienced the same did he finally fall down to the ground, glistening under the small light coming from the windows.
Reverberating uncontrollably, his chest begged for more air while he sprawled himself along the floor, lying on his back.
‘It’s still there, no matter what.’ He pondered to himself under the hazy blurriness in front of him. Nonetheless, despite the countless thoughts surging through his mind, Lutiel gathered himself up from the ground.
First of all, he stood in the middle with closed eyes, though he opened them back just as swiftly. Nevertheless, taking the stance he had trained for days prior, his hands were raised in the air, near his chest but protruding away from it.
Immediately, as he moved through the air with his right foot, the image around his right hand glistened bright, three of the streaks lighting up, but not as intensely as the one he had with the sword.
Kicking the air high up above him, his leg returned to the same position while he repeated the stance ever so slightly. Releasing a deep breath, the kick flowed through the space once again.
Again, he went back to the floor, only to kick anew. Then, he repeated the motion, almost without a grain of thought behind the eyes. Mindlessly, he continued onto the task, unbeknownst of the increasingly brighter light coming from his right side.
His eyes, despite looking in front of him, appeared distant, gazing far away where he shouldn’t have.
‘Ugh!’ His mind thundered as he caught himself once again, quickly staring at his hand, where the light had receded down to two streaks.
Furrowing his brows, a loud clasp followed. With two red imprints appearing around his cheeks, he slapped the right one for a second time to add onto the pain. He was far too distracted to continue, but he needed to do it regardless.
Changing the sides, he began kicking away, focusing only on the leg and all the muscles responsible for it to shatter his constraints. Only after one, he changed his stance, moving the right foot behind the left before slashing through the room with it.
Keeping the actions on his mind, he eased somewhat with the intensity, having found calmness through the changing legs.
However, the worst part came eventually once he stopped kicking. With an upright back, Lutiel started at the pale wall that should have had painting inscribed onto them. Yet, looking the same as yesterday, he simply focused on the arms he stretched out.
Gripping the imaginary sword, he tried to keep easy, to focus on the empty space right in front of him. Quickly, his arms engaged the movement as he went behind with the sword, merely stopping in the middle of the swing.
‘Dammit,’ he mused as his hands fell to the thighs inertly, the man unable to construct a proper focus. Looking at the shaking of his glyph, he didn’t dare finish the strike, aware that the worst pain yet was about to come by.
‘Should I just stop for today? It’s not doing me any good.’ In the end, although hesitantly, Lutiel surrendered.
‘This damn body! Why are you getting so excited over remembering a demon’s chest?’ Like a roaring thunder, the loathe he garnered for himself increased the more he pondered over it, so he quickly stopped. Taking a new set of night clothes from the wardrobe, his eyes shook as he looked at the corridor he found himself in, shirtless and on bare feet.
Once again, he kept gazing at Zyponia’s bare body through his mind, going out of the room before he even knew it. Gritting his teeth, the bridge of his nose creased, however, he quickly calmed down, simply heading towards the bath for servants.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
But, as he once again leapt through memories, staring at the bathtub starting to fill itself with faintly steaming water, Lutiel slowly walked towards the door. With a swift motion, locking them from inside, the pants around him had already gone down to the tiles near the porcelain bath.
Meanwhile, his feet skimmed through the waters, releasing a soft breath after sitting down inside. The water slowly rising itself, he closed his eyes before leaning on the brisk edges.
Futile. Feeling the steady approach of warm fluids, the images of naked Zyponia flickered through his head. Opening his eyes made no difference. Rapidly, he gazed down to search for his reflection, only to widen his eyes at a certain portion of his peeking out high beyond the surface, with the same shade as all of his skin.
Brimming as his heart beat strongly, he grabbed it absentmindedly, closing his eyes after grasping the pulse around his palm. “Aah,” he uttered faintly, only for himself to hear.
…
Ever since the gruesome pleasure Lutield had experienced that night, the time seemed to accelerate ever forward. He still did everything as per usual, which was to go out to the town, stay with Zyponia during her sessions, learn with Raeyine, as well as assist Camilla''s lessons, however, the roadblock he encountered and overcame allowed all of them to pass with relative ease for the next days.
Almost as though he had forgotten that his kind was at war with the demons, his mind was occupied by his daily chores. Nonetheless, he continued his training each night, with no breaks. Even after the dreadful, yet rejuvenating bath, he went back and trained properly as the thoughts didn’t cloud him anymore.
The time passed, and it was just a day before the ball, the one he had been forced to go to for reasons he was unaware of.
‘Did she have to send me here once again?’ The man mused while leaning against the carriage’s interior wall. Supporting himself with his right palm, he rested the chin while looking outside the window, staring at the streets donning gaudy silhouettes.
For the second time already, he found himself in the noble part of the city. Straining his eyes through the pane, Lutiel looked amidst the glares finding their way towards him. Instead, glancing at the buildings with carved stone exteriors, he disregarded the mundane demons and their usual reactions.
Under the rhythm of the wheels wobbling about the paved road, the man’s boredom finally ended soon enough, riding up another two streets to the right before stopping on the street.
“We’re here,” Ravier spoke through the calm, as no steps could be heard by either of them.
Stepping outside of the carriage, he finally saw the place they had arrived at. The air lingering free of the demon kind, he could see murky mountains far into the horizon, the remnants of the skies falling down to the place similarly.
Unlike Luviene’s shop, it appeared they were on the completely opposite end of the city, overseeing the sunless hills and leafless forests.
However, it wasn’t just the skies. The buildings itself made the street a drab mess. In a derelict state all throughout, Lutied wondered if they had truly left the space of the lower city. Rummaging through his left pocket, his gloved hand brought out a paper small enough to fit in its palm.
His eyes quickly skimmed through the yellowish page before a sigh muttered out from the lips. Raising his head, he followed the directions promptly, walking towards the dilapidated shop at the edge of the right side.
With no windows to showcase anything, the shop had nothing but a pair of old, wooden doors at its center, with metal knobs bent to fit a palm perfectly. Not wasting any more breaths, Lutiel opened the right side before entering, his eyes widening while doing so.
Bereft of feverish expectations, the vision before him made lutiel’s eyes waver. Unlike the size of the building, nearly two storeys tall, he saw no stairs inside. Not to mention, right after closing, he found himself in a room even smaller than his own.
More importantly however, what shocked him was the pure neatness and profusion of items gathered there. From books to sole pages stacked on top of each other, as well as different materials contained within glass vials on wooden shelves, any nook and cranny were disposed of, utilized to hold something there.
Promptly, the slave’s eyes followed down towards the floor, on which a young man sat with legs crawled up beneath the table he couldn’t make sense of.
Noticing the sudden guesting, the busied man laid down the metal fork onto the table with countless signs engraved into its flesh.
“You finally came,” he said in the human tongue, standing up from the cramped position with eerie ease. With a quick, but hefty sweep of his hands against the gray waistcoat and pants, he stretched out his arm towards the man, a discreet line distorting across his face. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s Lutiel, right?”
Glancing down at the hand, he waited for a few breaths, only to eventually grab and firm it. “Did Lady Zyponia tell you?” He asked with a blunt face, beneath a whit of hesitance.
“Oh, dear heavens forbid, I wouldn’t dare. I’m just a simple messenger, I dare say. I bring out what must be told. And your name, it’s screaming to be uttered,” he said while quickly taking his hand back, holding it in the air along with the left one and shaking them defensively.
Looking at the night blue, tinted eyebrows bending upwards along the soured face, Lutiel’s mien remained unchanged. “Can you just give me the order my lady placed?”
As his question rang out throughout the room, immediately, the man’s face came back to itself. “Where’s the rush? I haven’t even introduced myself yet, have I?” He said while the arms went behind his back, resting calmly as he bent his torso slightly. “My name’s Rudrik, with no surname just like you.”
Springing back into an erect stand, he stared at Lutiel with fully open eyes, awaiting any sort of reaction. Alas, with nothing escaping his expression, Rudrick’s face whittled away.
“You’re quite sturdy, it seems. But, there’s no wall that doesn’t crumble eventually. Then, how about this?”
‘Should I just tell her I couldn’t get it?’ He pondered over exiting while the man tattled to himself, however, his eyes started to shake immediately after. ‘What is this?’ Frozen in place, his muscles didn’t respond, even his breathing halted while Rudrick smiled to himself impishly, the green eyes staring directly into him. Coming closer to him, the man couldn’t do anything other than watch it happen.