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A petal. Two petals. Then three.
It falls down to the grass, floating brusque and slow as it descends down to the earth. Back to becoming one with the world once more.
The corolla, naked of its crown, lays prominent in Adin’s hand, his fingers still ripping more and more from its core. It snaps quick and easy, clean too, not like how humans do when their life is sapped away from them.
He can attest to that, he’s seen it happened. Those horrific screams of agony, of black matter encasing and overcoating their entire being. It looks like the stuff of a nightmare, yet he cannot bring himself to look away from it.
All the sepals are gone, leaving nothing but the green stalk of the flower; useless and not worth much in people’s eyes. It’s no surprise when Adin lets it go, seeing it quickly joining its other remains.
He turns his gaze to the sun, to the field around him and to the abundance of other nature surrounding him. His hand itches to reach out and touch one—to do what he has been doing for more than one hour, but the already piling amount of discarded gunk stops him.
It’s a rather hideous and twisted thing, an amalgamation of colours and plants that doesn’t blend with each other, but there is an odd sense of beauty that Adin finds from it all. From their mismatch stains and the glossy hue from the morning dew, to the way their ripped pieces don't fit in at all the way a puzzle would.
He smiles—content and satisfied—and leans back against empty air, tasting the summer breeze and the way the wind softly kisses his skin.
As the imperial prince, it was demanding of his title to always be busy. So to have a few days where he could just sit down and enjoy life as peasants would is rather adequate. Even if it had been relegated to him releasing off quite a number of his tension.
A shadow flows over behind Adin’s eyelids, making him open his eyes to find another pair of eyes crinkling at him.
“Fancy seeing you here,” the other prince—Valentino says, ushering Adin away to sit beside him.
“Hmm,” Adin hums. “I could say the same to you.” He closes his eyes again, feeling Velantino’s presence next to him: It’s warm and comfortable, something akin to the few moments he knows of when he can shed away all the courtly masks and sleep himself dead go the world. There are many a times when Adin wishes he can be nothing more than another being under the sun—but the reality that calls upon him every second says otherwise.
Valentino laughs, carefree and nicer than it should be for Adin’s ears. “It’s a good thing to relax, once in a while.” He smiles, sweet and soft with a mix of wistfulness. “Did you keep on getting ‘no love’ from all these flowers?”
They both glance at the grass, back to the carcasses from Adin’s episode.
“What makes you think so?” He asks instead, watching as the other prince takes a fistful of petals and let them cascade back to the ground with a flutter.
“You’re stubborn,” Valentino answers, slowly clenching his hand around nothing. He looks up and stares at Adin straight in the eyes. “The type to keep on going and trying from failure after failure.
“It’s a good trait,” he finishes, gazing away to the sun. “Maybe the Gods think so as well.”
Adin feels his smile slipping away, a bitter taste of ash and black at the back of his throat. He wonders, quietly, if Gods lust for power the way mortals do? Do they have a fermont wish for it, as would they commit atrocities just to be one step ahead of their peers?
Or perhaps…?
He shakes his head, shaking the thoughts off and letting a smile bloom when Valentino turns around back to him. “People who know not to yield feel more like a fool than a commendable thing to imitate.”
“Of course you’d say that,” Valentino replies easily. “But an iron will set ablaze burns brighter than a phoenix.”
Adin’s eyebrow rises. “A phoenix… is a being of immortality and rebirth, living far longer than iron can ever last.”
“Haha,” Valentino stands up, holding out a hand for Adin to grasp. So he does, feeling his calloused hands touching the other’s, their linked part feeling like a promise of some sorts. “I’m sure you understand the analogy.”
Adins merely smiles. With a light pull, the Caro prince drags him away from the field, away from the battlefield of crimson and blue, and away from the solitude that he once lived in. For a moment to last forever, how much would it take, to encapsulate a memory for its tenderness? To flee away from reality and to live inside a dream.
They stop shy from the edge of the cliff, where the sun hits the brightest and the breeze colder than ever. From beyond the grassy land, lies the moulderos kingdom of his birthright, the place where he should govern over one day, and the land where darkness has crept and made itself home, dormant as a sleeping dog. His eyes spy the delusion—of those black matter rising from the ground up and swallowing everything whole, but it’s quickly corrugated from the tightening on his hand.
“You alright?” Valentino peers at him, a concerned smile at edge. It’s an echo of a previous time, where Adin finds himself standing on weak legs and trying to find his balance in the far away land of his dreams. Only this time, the concern is warranted for the wrong reasons.
Adin bops his head, a small quirk of his lips.”I’m fine,” he answers, but he feels the other tugging away at himself, bringing them further from the edge. From a distance, the centerpiece of the kingdom turns farther and farther away—becoming naught but a small pillar from afar.
“Better now?” Valentino asks.
Ardin hums, taking a deep breath and exhaling it in a flurry. A light mist appears in front of him; a curious sight to behold.
“Oh, is it that cold up here?” Valentino says, breathing out to achieve the same misty air. He fails.
“It doesn’t feel that chilly,” Adin brings up his hand to the sky, feeling the encasing warmth of the sun. Lights peers from the edges of his hand, the backside full of shadow and as black as his heart.
“I suppose you have the opposite of an internal heat then,” Valentino comments. “Something like an eternal winter inside your belly.”
“What?” Adin asks incredulously.
“Haha,” The other boy waves off. “Nevermind that; here’s something I wanted to give to you.” He hands Adin a talisman-like item, coppery in colour and much lighter than he thinks it would be. It’s intricately designed, something precious to hold and something wonderous to gift. And for it to be given away to him…
“What is it?” Adin asks, feeling the metallic texture. It’s cold to the touch, much colder than his own fingers.
“A good luck charm,” Valentino answers. “And also a communication device.” He brings out another one, similarly designed though much lighter in colour. “So I don’t have to travel so far away just to talk about trivial things.”
Adin can’t help but feel the smile creeping up on his lips, a warm feeling blooming in his chest and he eyes the device. He brings it closer to his mouth, and says: “I don’t mind going to your place for a change.”
His words echo on the other side, a slight delay that’s almost unnoticeable if not for how quiet it is on the cliff.
Valentino chuckles, the sound echoing to Adin’s device as the other holds it close to his lips, “As if you’re ever that free to go there.”
They laugh, sound echoing across the winds.