The soft platter of rain beat against the silver roof of a terrace surrounded by curving trees. In the corner, a small game of chess lay unattended, with extra pieces scattered across the marble floor of the balcony.
A boy, barely 4 feet tall, stood with his head bent down as he looked at the mess at his feet. Sharp glass pieces lay scattered across the floor, the smell of incense coming from the powder that had once remained enclosed within the glass that now lay at his feet.
"We've been through this," an icy voice proclaimed.
"I want it out," the boy mumbled, his eyes still trained on the ground.
The voice sighed in disappointment. "What you want is irrelevant in the grand scheme of nations and empires."
"It hurts my head," the boy whispered in response.
"Speak up." The voice snapped. "Your lineage demands you carry yourself with poise and command. Stop your sniveling at once. I am not here to serve the common."
Gritting his teeth, the boy looked up at the owner of the voice and came face to face with the pale serpentine face of a woman clad in all black. She wore no face powdering compared to the others the boy often found coming and going through his rooms. Her fingers had black ink coating every nick of her skin, leaving no part of her fingers bare from the dark ink.
The woman who stood waiting for him to turn away and make a scene quietly watched him with her slitted eyes. Eyes that haunted his nightmares. Eyes he would one day stab and pluck out with his fingers—He shook his head. The unwanted thoughts were getting to him. They had started a year ago, but they'd only worsened, interfering with every decision and action he made.
It came to the point where he often found it problematic to separate what he thought of his own from the bizarre inner voice that had recently occupied a small portion of his head.
The boy fisted his hands, his fingers curling into his palms, digging into the unblemished skin, the very skin the towering woman was instructed to keep flawless.
"I said. It. Hurts. My. Head!" He yelled, pointing at the fine teal powder that lay amongst the glass. "You are supposed to take care of me, not stand there and do nothing when they come in their maroon robes day and night without fail to replace 'that' and leave when I tell them no!" He gestured to the powder, tipping his chin in its direction without taking his eyes from the woman.
"The incense is for your sake. It is to keep the demon within you—within all of us at bay. Believe me, I have done everything in my power to ensure your safety. It would be well for you to heed my words as I consistently seem to need to remind you. Everything I do is for your good."
The boy snickered, his eyes darkening a shade of grey as they narrowed, "I know a hypocrite when I see one."
The woman blinked, her composure slightly broken as she stared at him aghast. Reaching into her pocket, she quickly took out the teal powder from her pocket and shoved it under the boy's nose. Trying to escape, the boy tried to take a step back, but her heavy hands locked his arms. "Inhale, now."
"Get your hands off me! You hypocrite!" The boy struggled in the woman's grasp, but his little figure could do nothing against her. Noticing his adamant refusal, the woman released his arm and punched his gut. He doubled over, coughing, as air escaped his lungs.
The woman held the powder close to his nose while he was trying to recover the air stolen from him, only to have the very substance he was trying to evade seep into the back of his throat, the bitter tang of the incense causing him immediate nausea. He felt the ground approach his line of sight as he stumbled toward the beautifully decorated marble floor.
"Tch tch tch, whoever taught you such vocabulary?" Satisfied with his exposure to the fine dust, the woman took a step back, looking at the state of the boy.
His eyes began to glaze, his body fighting the effects of the powder. He began to shiver, the first signs of rejection taking a toll on his small frame. The boy braced himself, his hands digging into the glass pieces on the floor as he struggled to support himself. He got back to his feet, but his strength was no longer, and more blood only oozed from his hands from his pitiful efforts.
As the boy tried to speak out, his quivering lips couldn't make a sound.
The woman looked unapologetically at the boy as she continued to observe his agony. "Obedience suits you well. If only you'd restrained your childlike outburst from taking control of your rationality and kept the incense within the glass holder as placed."
The boy was fading. In and out, his vision losing focus with every strangled breath he took. He would kill her. The voice in his head laughed at his struggle. 'Yes,' it whispered, 'kill.' It was the last thing he heard before the darkness took over.
*****
The woman watched the unmoving boy, his eyes fixed at a single point in space, unblinking. He was out. She crouched to feel his pulse. A faint, slow beat resonated beneath her fingers. She frowned. It was much slower than usual. Getting up quickly, she turned to fetch the small vial on the shelf but stopped as an eerie chill crept into the room. Slowly, the woman turned her head to look at where the boy lay unconscious, only to find his body not there. She swiveled her head back towards the door and paused as the boy's voice stopped her in her tracks, except it wasn't his voice.
"We finally meet," a raspy voice caused her to turn back her head to come face to face with the boy. His eyes were no longer glazed, replaced by a startling awareness and glint that had never shown itself.
The boy began to circle her slowly as if he were looking at prey. "I've never understood his fear. He was scared of you. No, wait, he still fears you," he tapped his head, "it was quite annoying to deal with while living amongst his thoughts."
He paused, smiling as he watched the woman taking a shuddering breath. "He often thought of ways he would take your life while hearing your screams of pain. Of course, he blamed his desire to kill on me." The boy gestured to himself, laughing at the ridiculousness.
"I guess that is what it means to feel offended. Me, out of all people? I mean, I did consider killing you myself, but projecting onto him, I could never do so without breaking the sliver of sanity of the mental tightrope you had him walk on each day. Ah, you've impressed me. Your methods were quite jarring for a human, no? It piqued my curiosity. Where did you learn to play such mind games?"
The woman knew something was not right. This boy was not human. No, it was the boy's body, but what occupied it was something else. The being leaned forward, tilting her frozen head by her chin to the side, searching for something.
"On second thought, don't answer my curiosity. A war broke out the last time someone gave me an answer to my question," the being mumbled before bringing its gaze back to the woman's own after looking at her neck.
"Not much of a conversationalist are we now? What do you think of my vocabulary? I remember a while back, a little dearie asked where he'd learned—What was the word again?" Realizing the woman had no intention of speaking, an unnatural strength dug into her chin, and the being's gaze hardened as he seemed to wait.
"Hypocrite," the woman gasped out loud, causing the hand on her chin to loosen.
"Ah yes, hypocrite. Not the words for his status, I reckon. Let me tell you a little secret between you and me," it whispered in her ear, "I told him."
It then giggled and looked at her face again, watching horror spread across the woman's face. Tilting its head to the side, it looked back at her fear-stricken face.
The being observed. "That scares you."
The woman began to shiver uncontrollably. "Where is he?" She managed to grit out.
"Oh, he's fine. Quite alright if you ask me. He's not paying attention right now. Before you ask what he's doing, he's still obsessing over how he'll end you. He dreams of it. Daily, might I add?"
"Leave his body."
The being removed his hands from the woman's face, clutching his chest as if he were wounded.
"That's quite an offensive thing to say. How would you feel if someone told you to leave your home? You wouldn't leave without a struggle, no? That is the very situation you are putting on me."
The being paused its constant pacing before looking back at the woman and frowning. Its face contorted, anger taking over.
"Your existence is causing him to throw fits of outrage. I would happily drag him back to you if I knew he wouldn't make a mistake that could jeopardize my existence."
"The crown will get rid of you. Your existence was already predetermined the second you showed yourself. Your fate—They will banish you from the boy."
The boy stilled as his eyes glazed and then focused, his pupils dilating to an abnormal size.
"You know, I did say I couldn't kill you, but there are ways around that." The being smiled evilly before an empty look crossed his face. The boy's eyes then came back as he stared at the woman.
Then, before the woman could blink, she felt the world tilt, followed by nothing.
*****
The sharp, eerie glint within the boy's eyes replaced the empty glaze that the woman had seen within her last moments. Her head angled to the side, staring at an empty void as the life that once filled her eyes diminished. The being looked at the dead body and began to laugh.
"You were always fools. I never knew what Terra saw in you, but perhaps it was your naivety, your confidence, the way you feel."
It looked away from the body, looking down at the teal powder. "I did keep my word. I did not kill you. It wasn't me. I would do no such thing, but the boy had other thoughts, and I may have allowed him to send his regards, which led to this. It wasn't my intention to let you waste away in death. No, I thought you would be of use, but there is so much insolence I could take from Terra's creation."
The being held his head in his hands as it winced once again. "Stop. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not, boy, that is until I find Thirteenth dearest."
"How many centuries has it been, 10? 50? I wonder if he knew of the loophole between the body and mind of Terra's creations." It laughed maniacally, then paused, appalled by the dead's presence. "I never liked them once they were devoid of life. What did Thirteenth say about them again, 'the dead are just as deadly as those alive,' whatever that meant."
"I will say Terra did know something about beauty. Ever the designer she was."
"Well, Thirteenth deary, what do you have to say about the first dead being I encounter? I know! You would tell me, 'Stop frolicking amongst beings unfitting of your demeanor.' Well, what can I say? You condemned us, so why not I 'frolic' and see the creations Terra sealed her fate for?"