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Lucarious

I could still remember her.

Her kind gaze, the soft lifting of her lips as she stroked my cheeks. "Shh, it's alright; Mommy will always be here for you." I closed my eyes, beaming back at her. My naive, ignorant self truly worshiped her. I had no clue as to what her words meant that night. Pulling the covers up to my chin like she always taught me, I nodded, “Mommy, can you tell me about the little prince again? I really liked that story."

Her somber galaxy-colored eyes gazed back down at me as she pressed her lips together, “Sure, anything for my little Son of Ra." Lowering down onto my mattress, my mother made herself comfortable on the side of my bed. The gold on her kalasiris gleamed from the moon’s beams. The soft black silk cushions folded in against her weight. Clutching the edges of my covers close to my chin in my chubby little hands I eagerly awaited for the bedtime story.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy, who had a loving family. His farm was so beautiful, filled with fresh daisies, lotuses, and chrysanthemums. His family loved him. They adored him and gave him everything he ever wanted. One day, the king came for him. He wanted him to marry his daughter, for the boy, the son of a farmer and peasant lady, had a special ability, one the king had just found out. That ability had the power to change the entire realm if he wished to use it, one that was coveted by so many fae that they would die for it. You see, the boy could see the future. He had predicted the outcomes of wars. He was very useful to the king. Knowing this, the boy chose to go with the king for protection and for his family, so that they could live a better life."

"I never understood that," Pressing down on my lower lip my brows scrunched close together.

"Why leweve? Didn't he wuv his famuie?” I pushed on, my mother never did explain that part to me.

I could read the hesitation in her eyes even then, as she cleared her throat. It was as if she was trying to choke back long-forgotten memories.

"They did, they loved him so much, and he them. But you see, sometimes you have to do things you don't want to so you can live, so you can help others. That's why the boy left. He was renowned as this great oracle, the first ever to grace the lands." My mother smiled wistfully, coming in close to tickling my stomach under the blankets. I had always been weak at that spot when I was young. Over the years, I'd learned to hold back my laughter to rain in my forced joy. But I’ll always laugh for her.

"Stop, it Mommy, that twickles." I giggled, something I would never show the boys. We always played together in the garden, back when I had thought they were really my friends. The second son of a duke, the firstborn of a baron, and the heir of a newly formed noble house. I was adored, and admired, with their false smiles and pretend laughter at my jokes.

My mother continued, “The boy was useful in a way, you see the king wasn't truly a king yet, but he wanted to be one. Which is why he needed the boy."

At the time I had only thought this story was just that, a story. Not that it was about her. She wasn't the princess though, no she was the boy, only the boy wasn't really a boy in the story just as the princess wasn't really a princess but a prince, a heartless, selfish, uncaring bastard. My dear mother had the uncanny and somewhat useless gift to lie. The only thing she was able to hide from my father. I only found out about it after discovering the truth behind the bedtime story.

"With the farmer boy in his hands, the king won many battles and then he won the war. The king, with all the power of an oracle in his hands, claimed a land that was never his to claim. In time the boy fell for the girl, the princess. He trusted the princess's honey words and sweet promises. He truly thought he loved her. When the king got the crown-" My mother sniffed pausing a little as if this story was sad, but I knew the ending. I heard it a million times before. It wasn't sad, but I came to realize it was all about perspective.

"The princess mawied the boy, and he became a pwince, and den he became a king becauwse the pwevious king had bewecome eww. So the princess had to towak the throne. Den she gave her husband the crown. Den he used his prwedictions and wuled evewything. Someday I wanna be thwat pwince, I'm gonna bewcome a king and rule evewything just like the boy." I finished watching my mother's gaze harden a little, to my confusion. Clearing her throat my mother stood almost abruptly.

"Yes, of course, you are his son." My mother bit out, a hint of sadness hidden in her tone as she turned her back to leave. At the time I didn't know why my mother had become irritated so suddenly. When I reached out to her, my tiny hands gripping onto the hem of her skirt she simply stared emptily back at me, “I'll bew au good king, I prowomis Mommy."

I could see it even then, even under the heavy makeup she wore. The small tint of purple just below her eye, under her arms, her left cheek.

I hated being called his son. I wanted her to call me her son, not that bastard's. Smiling tight-lipped she snatched her skirt from my grip as my hopeful gaze clouded over with a press of my own lips. "I'm sowy that I remind you of him, Mommy. But I'm nuwat going to be him! I prowomis.” I muttered as I stared at my reflection in the empty glass by my bed stand, no longer able to meet her gaze. My bright red curls and burning garnet eyes were the mirror image of my so-called father’s. The man who'd beat my mother and me anytime he could because he could.

"Goodnight, Lucarious." She choked out, causing my small frame to tear up. My mother always called me by my name when she was upset with me. She'd call me her little Son of Ra when she wasn't. I wanted her to always call me her little Son of Ra.

Nodding, I quietly slipped under my covers and drifted to sleep.

The vision blacked out and I entered another time of my life.

I don't know how long I must have been asleep before guards had yanked me from my bed, my little arms wrestled against their meaty grip. My mother and I had still been close at the time it all started but my baby slurs had been beaten out of me. “It was unbecoming of a Phoenix Prince to still speak like a child”, so my father claimed.

"Let me go! Your fucking bastards. I'll have your throats slit if you don't release me. Don't you dare touch me!" I was repeating what I'd heard my father shout at one of his underlings. When he used it the man had released my father at once. Needless to say, that trick didn't work with a mere prince.

Things soon became more muddy when I saw my father at the entrance of the dungeon chambers. A large thick concrete table stood dead center in the room. Metal cuffs were anchored to the slab on each corner. I was soon chained to the said stone table. "Let me go!" I cried, nearly tearing my esophagus out as I spat my words at the bastard, my biological father.

I had thought this was just another one of his punishments for me. No matter what I did he always found a reason to punish me. Despite knowing this I still tried to reason with the man, "I didn't do shit today, you have no reason to punish me!" Like always my father showed no emotion, no nothing. It was only then I noticed my mother behind him. Her raven purple hair and galaxy eyes held mine before quickly looking away.

It was then I knew somewhere in my tiny brain, that this was no ordinary punishment if Mother was here too. But still, I was young and ignorant. I thought my father was going to punish her , my mother, despite me being the one chained to the table. A seven-sun cycle boy, not even thirty-two seasons in.

I didn't see it until it was too late. Not that I could do anything the guards had already chained me to the table despite my struggles. I was weak, too daft to figure a way out.

I felt the burning prick of the fountain pen, no doubt ruined to make it impervious to melting, dipped in lava scorching through my skin. It had pierced through layers upon layers of my skin as I screamed. At the time I didn't know why they did it. I was fucking seven but I wasn't that stupid, I read the words burned into my skin later that day, when I was shoved back into my room. I looked it up... and realized that I would never be a true Phoenix ever again.

Somehow I managed to overcome it. But, my father never gave up until he stripped me of who I was, of my spirit, of me, of my very soul. Again and again, he repeatedly seared those words onto every inch of my body, my face, arms, legs, stomach, everywhere. Not a single inch of my skin wasn't marked by the time I turned fifteen. He claimed what was supposed to be mine as his .

That wasn't even the hardest part of it all. The cruelest torture was when I called out for her . I screamed my mother's name until my throat was sore until no words came out but tears as I struggled against the pain, the fire, the chains. I felt it, my Phoenix being ripped from me. The sensation was like being torn from the inside out all while her galaxy-purple gaze refused to meet mine.

I knew she could hear me.

How could she not, the walls had echoed every last one of my cries for help. For her help.

I never asked for my mother to tuck me in after that. I never ask for her so-called stories.

She knew, they all did. My so-called friends whispered behind my back, my father beat me to an inch of my life, and I took it. I took it all because the one good thing that came out of their union was her , my littlest sister.

Luna, my moon, my light in the darkness. I will protect her, for she was the only one to help me when ' it' was finally gone. Our Phoenix was our everything. To my court, to my type of fae, it was life itself.

Opening my eyes to the beaming sun I frowned down at the carved ruins on my arm, not from any magic or spell, no this was pure ruins. Funny how the word also means to damage something.

Shaking slightly, I snapped my fingers together glamouring my body to be the perfect, stunning, beauty that I was.

Gods I hated that dream.

Snapping my figures once more I popped up some fairy wine. Chugging the whole bottle down I tried to erase ‘ that’ unpleasant wake-up call. Glancing at myself in the mirror for a brief moment I saw him, my father. We did look alike but I wasn't him. Smiling my charming smile with my pearly white teeth I lifted my chin checking for any imperfections to my glamour. Moving it side to side with a hand against my chin. "I truly am such a magnificent beauty." I breathed out as I turned towards the sudden breeze in my room.

"Ahh, if it isn't the little princess. How might I be of assistance today?" I drawled as I popped another bottle of wine into my hands. I'm going to need two gallons for today.

As always the thing never had any emotion, “Did you even think about what I said the other day?" The little princess questioned her obvious sneer at my choice of drinks for the morning clear.

I smiled walking past her, “Oh please doll, I have better things to think about than that. I’ll find a way to break our little mating bond and then, I'll kill you." I tossed out turning my head back to her, giving her a little wink before opening the doors to my chambers. I spotted the two guards stationed there. Clearly, they were only there for decoration or to keep an eye on me. How little do these fae trust me? I was a very trustful person, Everetta always knew that. I was as truthful as she was and she didn't have guards stationed by her door.

Now where is my dear little sister? I must tell her what I've discovered. I'm sure she'd be interested in her life.

"Won't you even consider it?" I hear the little snow princess mutter behind me causing me to scoff. Why would I? How arrogant of her to assume so. I've heard the stories of the pampered little princess of the Winter Court. Always given what she wanted, was loved by all, and never had to struggle a dime in her life. Spoiled much?

She was loved by her father. Sure her mother had died when she was young but her father's love sure as hell made up for it. I've seen them together. She was nothing but an ungrateful child if you ask me. Her father loved her; anyone could see that, yet she was plainly irritated by him. If her scowl couldn't tell you whenever they had their father-daughter stroll in the gardens then you were a daft fool. Never mind her though, where was my sister, I wondered walking down the halls of this freezing ice castle. Ah, there she is. I caught the small speck of purple in this sickening display of blue on blue on ice. In the garden, how peculiar. She was never one to just walk through the gardens she loved holing up in her room. She was a hermit for all those who saw. It's good that she was getting some fresh air.

"Ahh sister. How are you?" I began snapping away my half-finished bottle of fairy wine as I made my way towards her. With a sneer of her nose at me, she sighed crossing her arms, “What." She clipped as I beamed back at her throwing an arm around her shoulder only to have her shrug it off.

"Come on, don't be like that, Lunie." I pleaded, pouting my lower lip at her. The trick always worked for Everetta. Plus, I was damn adorable if you ask the reflection of me by the pond, so I have no clue why it doesn't work on her.

"Don't call me that." She snapped back, turning to make her way out of the gardens. Her dress swirled around her as she stormed off. Well fuck.

"Lunie." Sticking out my power lip in a mock pout I trailed after her. Ok so my steps might have been a little sloppy but no one else was here, at least I didn't sense them. Then again fairy wine does tend to lower my magic a bit, and my inhibitions too. Oh well, it's not like any fae could take anything else from me.

"You don't get to call me that. You lost that privilege a long time ago." She bit back as she tapped her heels away. She was wearing a flowy evening gown right now, blue ugh, so not her color. Snapping my fingers I twisted the color into a deep ash purple, to match her gorgeous long hair.

Honestly, I get he hates her but at least give her some mercy in terms of style. I mean the color was completely wrong and I know Eli does Ev's hair so why the hell does Lunie always have to wear her’s straight down? Gods, it's nearly touching the ground. Snapping my fingers once more I was about to fix her hair into a more refined taste but my dear little sister stopped me gripping my wrist firmly, "Don't, you lost that privilege too. Don't fucking touch me or use your damned magic on me either. Not when you used the same magic to kill him. I don't want you anywhere near me."

My dear Lunie was huffing and puffing by the time she was finished with her little rant. Oh my, her cheeks were turning a bright red, is it becoming purple? Was she even breathing?

"Haven't you thought about it, why I've been avoiding you? I hate you! I always will. What we had, forget it, because I will kill you. I'll always hate you for what you've done." She twisted off towards the exit, trying to storm off again.

Sighing, I lifted my gaze to the sky, closing my eyes. She sure was testing my patience.

I could tell her over and over that it was for her, always for her. But she wouldn't care. "Can't you just fucking trust me? I've always had your best interest at hand. Always ! Luna-” I growled only to be cut off as she whirled back around the path marching straight for me. Her hair was like a whip as it flicked the air around her in a frenzy.

"You are a fucking snake , you've never cared about me! If you did you WOULD have let him live. You could have just let him go, conquered another kingdom. Hell you had the Phoenix Court, so what if those lands were unclaimed by any court? There were more lands, more opportunities. I would have helped you. I would have stood by your side, I would have followed you to the ends of the realm if you'd just believed in me. But you didn't, you killed him. I told you, I begged you not to. I gave you reasons upon reasons not to conquer them. They would have given us anything we asked for. Even if they weren't under our thumb, or I suppose it was really your thumb. But no, it was always your way or no way. It was always about what you wanted, never me ! I was ok with that, I was fine with that. I just wanted him , but you couldn't even give me that, right? Everything had to be yours." Her gaze was hot enough to burn even the suns. Her nostrils flared smoke as I glared straight back down at her. Taking in a deep breath to cool my own boiling rage I rolled my eyes, “I did it for you!" I began but she wasn't done.

"Me?! Me?! No, fuck that. He loved me, and if you did you wouldn't have killed him." Her obsidian pupils were the last thing I saw before she popped herself out.

Smashing the snow-covered stone column beside me, I watched as a firm fist was imprinted into the cracked rock. It was always the same shit with her. Why can't she just see that I was acting on her behalf?!