Response for Fable character prompt: Expressions of love
How does your fable show others they love/appreciate them? (All Fables are humanified)
How does your fable show others they love/appreciate them? (All Fables are humanified)
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Cian stood rigidly with a hand resting on the pommel of his ceremonial sword. When speaking with a Shade, it was important to show no trace of weakness. No fear. And to outwardly display preparedness—poised as if ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
“You do not know the author of this curse?” Cian demanded.
The Shade, a harbinger of the Under-realm, pressed its smoke and shadow form to the edges of the summoning circle. As if it were testing the strength of the enchantment. A sizzle and spark of white light forced the Shade to retreat to the innermost center of the rune. “It could be the work of many, many.” It’s voice was unnaturally pitched, grating and unsettling to listeners.
“Can you identify the maker?” Cian hissed. The young heir of Herd Solasta leaned closer to the summoning circle. The ghoulish light that glowed from the magical etchings highlighted his face. It revealed bone, exposed teeth, and lidless eyes. A face completely skeletal, in stark contrast to the rest of his body, which was typical in build of a young adult Fable. “Speak, Shade.”
Light from the rune flared, and the Shade gave a banshee-like screech. “I told you,” it seethed, “many are those who use such curses! Which of my masters, my kind have not the authority to delve.”
“You are useless to me then.”
The Shade swelled its shadowy form like a brewing thunderhead. “You’ll need to speak to them,” it spat, almost a cackle.
A chill traveled down Cian’s spine. It was involuntary, fear always accompanied thoughts of the Lords of the Under-realm. The light from the summoning circle flickered like a breeze might dim the flame of a candle. A shadowy tendril escaped the circle to strike the boney cheek of the Fable. Cian jerked back. The Shade shrank away just as the summoning circle flared in brightness. It billowed within the confines of the rune. A grin was formed on its impossibly shadowed face. The touch, however brief, had been enough.
“Cian of the Great Wood, you are far from home.” The Shade leered at Cian.
The Fable acted quickly, his boot scraped a mark in the dirt, a miniature of the rune that housed the Shade.
“I’ve seen him: Kleiooo.”
Cian had nearly smudged out the symbol.
“Not yet marked by us. Shall we change tha—”
With the rune fully scrubbed out, the Shade was banished as quickly as a flame snuffed out. Cian did not linger even a moment. He ran through the graveyard. He mounted his horse left by the entrance. Cian spurred his steed forward. Wings outstretched as the pegasus took flight.
The night air was filled with the beat of wings and panting breath. Air whistled past Cian, stinging his eyes. Eyes made vulnerable under the moonlight’s influence. Yet, he would not hinder his mount. Fearthainn flew in all haste. The pace through the sky was breakneck. Still the journey felt like an eternity. Then the pegasus dive-bombed; Beating its wings to slow the descent at the last moment so they touched down turbulent yet unharmed. The Fable dismounted, stumbling on wobbly legs towards a snarling statue. Cian shoved a trembling hand inside the mouth of the statue. Magic buzzed over his fingers. A soft click sounded from behind a nearby wall of climbing roses.
“Move,” Cian snapped icily, rising.
His Earth magic overpowered the thorny barricade. The plants contorted to get out of the Fable’s way. Cian seized the handle of the newly revealed iron door, wrenching it open, and barreling inside the passageway.
“Kleio! Kleio!” His shouts reverberated down the corridor.
Torches lining the tunnel cast orange light on the Fable’s face. No longer bone, but a handsome visage.
“Kleio!”
Cian barged through the door at the end of the tunnel, sending it shuddering against the wall at the force of his entry.
“Yes. What is it?” A masculine voice came from the opposite end of the chamber. A Fable dressed stylishly was perusing a book. His back was to the door. He did not turn.
“Kleio, a-are you hurt?” Cian charged across the room. “W-was there an intruder?”
The Fable, Kleio, snapped his book shut then spun to face Cian. “Of course not. No creature could overcome the perimeter barriers.”
Cian’s legs gave out. Kleio lurched forward, perhaps meaning to catch the other, he caught only Cian’s hands. Cian buckled to his knees, head bowed between his outstretched arms.
“Blast! Are you ill, Cian?”
“No,” Cian’s voice quivered, “only scared witless.”
“You’re scaring me, you fool,” despite the insult, Kleio’s voice was surprisingly tender. “What happened?”
Cian took several shaky breaths. When he finally lifted his head there were tears in his eyes. “I summoned a Shade.”
Kleio swore. “By yourself?” His fingers clenched over Cian’s. “Of course you would.”
“I’m sorry. It breached the circle.”
“Why you don’t pursue such endeavors alone.”
“Just for an instant but—”
“—So you’ll have to be careful for a fortnight. Stay in the sanctum. Serves you right,” Kleio cut in.
Cian squeezed Kleio through their handhold. “It was not just my identity discovered.”
Silence between them. There was the ticking of clockwork. The steady drip of some concoction. These subtle sounds filled the void in the absence of conversation.
“But why would…” Kleio’s words trailed off. He searched Cian’s face. “Mine?”
Cian got to his feet. He was taller than Kleio, he had to look down to meet his gaze. “Has it not been obvious?” Kleio looked away, but Cian carried on, “I am your shadow in idle hours. Your shield in battle. I humor your every scheme—”
“—my schemes, as you call them, will make history.”
“I have spent countless hours tending to your dragon hoard—”
“—don’t call them that.”
“Your trinkets, then. Apologies” The corner’s of Cian’s lips were upturned in amusement. “Since I have set foot in Vallor wood I have been your constant companion.”
“Well that is… is because we accomplish far more together.”
Cian’s thumb lightly brushed Kleio’s hand. “That I don’t argue. But, you must know, with so much time spent in your company, how could you not always be on my mind?”
Kleio swallowed. “This is how you confess your feelings?” He licked his lips. “By telling me I will soon have a Shade stalking my every step?”
Their handhold was broken. Cian brought a hand up to cradle the underside of Kleio’s chin. Kleio did not turn his head.
“I will not let a Shade harm you,” Cian said fervently.
“Unnecessary. Now that I have been warned,” Kleio lifted his eyes to meet Cian’s, “it will have no chance of striking.”
“I love you, Kleio, heir of Herd Vallor.” The taller Fable was leaning down, slowly closing the gap between them, “betrothed of Cian, heir of Herd Solasta.”
Kleio blinked. He gave a sharp inhale. “Cian.” He only managed the one word.
A bell chimed, shrill and piercing. Their attention both snapped to the row of bells on the far wall. The first bell in line rang incessantly until it suddenly stilled, then the neighbor bell chimed. This pattern continued.
“Someone’s on the way to my chambers.” Kleio voiced aloud what they both knew. “I must return before—“
“I’ll accompany you, the Shade.”
Kleio stepped back. “And explain why we are both out of bed at such an ungodly hour? I think not. Besides, there is no safer dwelling from evil entities than Vallor keep."
Cian let his hands drop to his sides. “Very well.” He paused, chewed on his lower lip, then rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Be cautious.”
Kleio rushed out of the room in a hurry. He left Cian to the ticking of clockwork, the drip of potions, and the most jarring of all: the toll of a bell.
