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Post by Deleted on Apr 25, 2017 17:16:58 GMT -6
THE SIN OF ENVY
Pax and Eniah
Post Chapter III
Location: The Royal Palace
Time of Day: Evening
Eniah has never liked Pit Fighters. It's been months since that traumatic fight with the pit fighter he shared his previous master with and the colt still hasn't moved on.
Pax, the King's bodyguard and a former Pit Fighter, has taken notice of the colt's odd and rude behavior in his presence, and has grown curious of Eniah's attitude.
After several encounters, he finally decides to open his mouth. |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 25, 2017 17:37:28 GMT -6
ENIAH
THE YOUNG ROYAL SERVANT
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He could feel the bit in his mouth argue with the cold handle of the empty pail swinging aimlessly from between his lips. They were clinking together uncomfortably against Eniah's teeth, causing that irritable cold feeling to radiate through his jaws and send a chill down his spine. At least he had something to look forward to as soon as he had returned the pail to its home in the shed.
The young slave's chores had been completed for the day. The palace hallways had been rinsed, the flowers have been watered, and hedges have been trimmed. Any and every span of dust and dirt trailed in by one of Lady Lillith's many foals has been eliminated. His work had crawled on into the late hours of the day, and only now, just after Ignacio's sun had snuck below the horizon line, was Eniah free to do as he wished. The hairs around the draconic blemish that was his brand itched from the dirt, and he was more than ready to run a hot bath for himself.
It all seemed too good to be true. A warm bath, followed by a brief meal, and then time to rest in his quarters here at the palace. True, Eniah didn't have quite as much privacy as he did when he and his master were at the Villa, but at least he was still given the opportunity. Oh, but as mentioned before, it all seemed too good to be true at the palace, and alas, the roan youth found himself missing that privacy when a familiar shape turned into the hallway the colt was slowly pacing down.
The King's Bodyguard. There was many a horse in these halls that Eniah could ignore without any sort of distraction. Pax was not among them. Pit Fighters were commonly met with eyes of fire and disgust from the colt since the day one tore away at his small form, but that sad, pale doppelganger was a miraculously free horse. The kind Eniah envied most of all.
Unfortunately his bleak facade could not hold its stoic face. Eniah's nose scrunched and he raised his head, feeling the bucket swing and jostle at the sudden movement. His gait displayed pride and elegance, but his face held quiet threats and mockery. Why him? What kind of Pit Fighter gains freedom being that small? He often asked himself.
It was not the first time he had flashed such a glare in the Ex-Slave's direction.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2017 12:55:47 GMT -6
Pax it feels better biting down His body too ached.
Pax had found no friends in the palace lately. The novelty of his presence had faded, leaving him without the keen attention of the king's advisers and tutors, and without the interest of the palace staff. He was stranded somewhere between the fleet of servile slaves in the King's possession and the esteemed kingsguard that populated the campus. The castle laborers grew quiet and watchful when he drew near, and they were exclusionary in their caution; Pax supposed he couldn't blame them. Months earlier, he too had fallen silent in the presence of free men.
Free. That's what his papers said. He'd dreamed of it for years, but so far nothing felt much different. Amadeus still owned every one of his hours. The nobles still passed by him like a feature of the landscaping. The chevaliers still kicked him like a dog.
He stretched his neck as he plodded, flat-footed and tired, towards his quarters. As his nose reached the ground, skimming the shining marble, soreness arched all the way back to his tail. Pax winced, shaking the ache loose in his crest. Every chevalier trained hard, Pax knew, and every chevalier sparred. Somehow, though, it seemed like his name was called more than others. Somehow, it seemed like his opponents were always the largest. They didn't think he heard their snickers as the squadron's finest fighters threw him to the dirt, or sense the condescension in their offers to help him to his feet.
He lost, again and again. It had been true since his first months in the pits, when the fury of survival had started to fade from his fighting. Pax had never been a skilled combatant, but his rage had powered him through bombastic early performances, enough to catch the eye of this awful city. When that was gone, he didn't have the technique to win anything. His opponents knew it. The chevaliers knew it. The whole city knew he couldn't have won the crucible fair and square, that he would have died in the sand without intervention from the palace.
That was the thing about Valore, though. It didn't care.
Pax rounded the corner glumly, his stomach sick from another day of lost battles, another day of opportunities he didn't deserve. As he counted the reasons he shouldn't have been in this castle, Pax caught the eye of a young slave coming his way. It was the habit of most of the slaves here to give him a brief frightened look, if anything at all, and he was taken aback by the contempt in the young boy's eyes. Pax's face, previously furrowed in remorse, fell slack as he passed Eniah in the hallway.
If it had been his first encounter with this particular boy, Pax could have chalked it up to a foul mood, but he had been on the receiving end of this hostility before. All the mocking laughter, the averted eyes, the whispered insults he had endured that day bubbled up in his throat. Pax stopped his feet, his hind to Eniah. "Hey," he said, his voice filling the hallway as he looked back over his shoulder. "What's your problem?" 530 words | post 1 guess who didn't proofread its MEEEEEEEE im sorry if this is a mess |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2017 21:26:39 GMT -6
ENIAH
THE YOUNG ROYAL SERVANT
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That sneer and those fiery eyes would have been ever so brief. After all, that was always the bliss of just passing by instead of having to line up among him and rest of the palace slaves like hens. No cold stare to the face, no narrowing of those ocean blue eyes. Just a passing glance--full of malice and envy to somehow satisfy Eniah's undying need to make himself feel better.
But this time Pax had noticed. His ears keened back when those hoofsteps stopped, and the older stallion called back to him irritably. Eniah was reluctant, even urging himself not to answer--he had a hot bath waiting for him, and certainly he had enough pride and sense of self-preservation to feel he was not entitled to answer to the ex-slave. Pax was not his master. No chevalier was. Eniah had decided that when one decided to stamp that damned brand on his right shoulder.
Still, he couldn't stop himself. After all, Pax had taken a somewhat admirable step to the young servile slave, even for a former pit-fighter; he had noticed him. That and his own boiling jealousy made the slave child unusually eager to respond. Carefully, Eniah set down the pail with a dull thud.
"Deal?" He replied, holding back a mocking tone. Even in the presence of a character he clearly disliked, Eniah maintained a stoic tone of voice. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just finishing the last of my duties before returning to my quarters, sir." Eniah answered as he stopped. It was a lie, but a lie he would rather make than provide Pax with an honest answer, or keep him longer away from his bath. "...Is there a flaw among a task of mine you wish to address, sir?"
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Note: how is it that when I think I've written a decent post it turns out it's really short
Maybe I need to reformat my html dldgkadhlkghalkh--- |
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