ACT VI
THE AGE OF UNDEAD
It was the third day and Hans remained the sleeping beauty of the fables. Chris on the other hand, finally received permission to enter his recovery room. Bernard, his father tagged along with many eyes stalking their actions. One of them was the fastest knight in the world, Dijkstra. Many wondered, even Arat, as to why this short-fuse maniac was this calm, but Dijkstra was only fine outside, inside he was in turmoil over what Bernard was thinking himself- The Elderwood.
Chris had mustered all his courage to come here, he wanted to hate Hans but what his father said to him before soldered his thoughts that the future he was hoping for could be avoided. However, when he reached Hans, not a single word left his mouth he just blankly stared at him. He felt guilty because every attack of his back in the arena was aiming to take Hans's life. The good times they shared kept flashing in their minds, he felt apologetic for blaming him.
Bernard took a good look at Hans, the infant he pulled from the war had grown up. He wanted some of his dishonour to washed away but it remained stained in his conscience. He spoke as his son remained silent, “You’ve grown up well young Prince—”
“You got it wrong. I'm not a prince. Just Hans is fine” The sleeping boy woke up, giving many a breath of relief. He was surrounded by a lot of people, some genuinely cared for his well-being, some curious, some wanting the answers and some, so they could relieve themselves of guilt.
“I don't want to, but if I happen to sit on that throne,” Hans spoke further, clenching his fists in and out, trying to see if everything was working fine. And when everything seemed fine, he added, “Then it will became my duty to avenge him,… We’ll be enemies, sir. That seems unavoidable.” His words shook Chris from within, he wanted to avoid this scenario and it was blatantly showing up on his face. So Hans added pointing at Chris, “So, remain still in Clandor and do not leave. I don’t wanna fight with that idiot again.”
When Hans was finished with his words, Arat chimed in making the most of the situation as he declared, “Your son must repent in your place, Bernard.” His wise head working in full swing, planning and scheming, “You will never be forgiven for your sins, but seeing your son inheriting some of the Imperial blood, I can’t just let him fall on others’ hands. So he will serve in Parv after his graduation. Earning you pardon as long as you don’t show yourself outside of Clandor." Arat paused as he found Hans glaring at him, as he was trying to find where Arat was going with this. Looking at the contemplating face of Hans, Arat chuckled inside and added, “After hearing the prince, that's how far my genoristy can go. You are welcome to deny it, I hope you do deny. ”
If it was up to him, he would have ordered the annihilation of Bernard and his son at this very moment. However, doing so would have resulted in upsetting the boy who was quick in running away from the throne. Thinking more, he sighed, adding, “I’m giving in, so think hard—”
“There is nothing to think. He will serve Parv, his motherland as he should have been—”
“Screw you, you old snake, who says I'll even go to Parv. There was a huge IF in my words before.” Hans rebuked, interrupting both, obvious to everyone that he was addressing Arat. Then pointing to Chirs, he declared, “Heis his own person, he is fifteen, and he can decide for himself.” As Hans’s words fell, all eyes turned to Chris, asking his opinion.
Hearing those words from Hans, a little smile etched on Chris’s face as he answered, “I will, if Hans is there.”
“Look at this bastard, I took his side and he is throwing everything at me.” Hans chuckled, and a sudden thought hit him, “Oh, yes, I must’ve got the second place.” He tried standing up, removing the sheets of cloth covering him.
“No, you did not.” Walter rained on his parade before it could begin, and explained, “You fainted first so Chris was crowned winner, but he was also not in a condition to continue… so.…”
“Damn it…” Hans cursed, mumbling, “I lost. My chance…”
Seeing Hans almost pulling out his hair, Walter asked everyone to leave. And when everyone followed his words, the professor turned to another individual, trying to hide away in a corner, “You too.” As Walter pointed, Hans finally set his eyes on the boy standing in the corner. “All three days, except for maybe bathroom breaks, that boy didn’t even move an inch.”
“I inspire loyalty, don’t you think, professor.” Hans smirked.
“Senior,” Vanir interjected before Walter could say anything, continuing, “You know, you are my ticket out of misery, right? So promise me you never fall again like this…"
“I can’t promise you that Vanir. Grandpa always says, there is someone stronger than you somewhere. And if I won’t fall, how would I learn to rise again? That’s how this world works. But if you are that concerned, then be the one lifting me. That’s what is in your hands.”
“Haa…” Vanir heaved, remarking, “That is some hardcore cringe, but I'll try—”
“One of these days. I'm gonna sew that mouth of yours, Junior. That was probably the coolest thing I’ve said and you botched—”
“Then recover quickly, senior.” Vanir jolted out of Hans’s room his eyes moistened with happiness, and Hans turned to Walter, asking, “So professor, mind giving me the book—”
“Oh stop it,” Walter gestured, waving his hand, “I know that you know that I don’t have the book—”
“Yeah, you fu..lost it to Xandor.”
“No, I traded it.”
“What? You backstabber, you promised that to me.”
“Xandor came to me, telling the truth that Book of Power is just a hoax—”
“And you believe him—”
“Do you think, I’m still shitting in my pants, farmboy?”
“Why would I even want to know that, eew!” Hans squealed.
“Stop getting smart with me farm boy—”
“So you knew everything, then why did you help me get here,” Hans asked, confused, “I mean clearing every obstacles, giving me special treatment and siding with me so I can focus on preparation—”
“Because Xandor added that in the trade. He made a deal with you, didn’t he?" Walter asked, "So what was it he wanted?”
“What will I get telling you—”
“Ho, look at this. Our farmboy is acting cute." Walter remarked, "Well, you are talking like a Prophet member. I'm proud of that at least.”
“Haa.. I thought Xandor really stole it from you”
"Do you think, I'm that foolish to let a treasure slip by my hand?” Xandor smirked.
“It's not you," Hans shook his head, "it's just that Xandor seemed perfectly capable of doing it.”
Walter wanted to know many things, "How he was that proficient with spears and daggers, heck the boy even knew how to swing a heavy mace. And to top everything, how the hell he could transform into an elder wood?" But he left all the questions in his head and let the boy to rest.
However, for Hans, rest was the last thing he wanted. The failure to acquire Solar Mage still lingered in his mind. “Agh..” He groaned, “There is no use overthinking, I have to get it from Xandor another way.. but where is she, I heard her..she was saying something about forgiving..” He kept waiting, but instead of Delimira, the sleep fairy visited him and he drifted off to dreamlands.
“Armin..you are the king who butchered his own family.” Hans raised his head, to take a good look at who or what was talking to him yet with the vast knowledge in his head, he couldn’t recognise the creature, bat-like wings, tall and imposing, with scales that shimmered like polished emeralds. It was a group surrounding him, their upper body was serpentine, covered in iridescent scales that transitioned seamlessly into humanoid torsos. Their arms were powerful and ended in clawed hands, and their faces were a mesmerizing blend of human and lizard-like features. They had striking, slit-pupil eyes, and their hair resembled flowing silken-scaled manes.
One of the threatening figure suddenly appeared before him, like he had skipped the space and impaled him with his fangs. Hans woke up gasping. “This shit… happens every time I pass out. For real, I need to learn…” His eyes led him to the person sitting beside his bed as his ranting came to a sudden halt.
“I heard you won,” Hans said, trying smooth talk, but Delimira was not happy hearing it. Standing up, she declared, “I like doing charity not accepting it.”
“Still a stuck up. You seem to be doing fine.” Hans remarked, but what she did next started him. “You okay?” She asked like something precious of hers got hurt.
“You don’t have to get senti about it. I’m fine, heck I can even run if I try now. See..” Hans showed how good of a health he was in.
"You sure?" She asked once more.
"Tsk, I'm telling you, I'm fine. I can go another round with Chris." He assured, trying to give Delimira a sense of relief. Or as he thought until she spoke, “Better clench your teeth, Mr Prince.”
“What?" Hans sensed, it wasn't that she was concerned about him. she just wanted to know if it was okay for him to get hit. "Is a ‘sorry’ with a capital S won’t do?”
“You are awfully late on that. let's bury the hatchet." She smirked, "Seventeen times. You hit me seventeen times. As I've said, clench your teeth, Mr. Prince.” She pinned him down and secured a dominant position on the bed, straddling Hans's stomach. She began in a rhythm, her punches rained down while Hans cursed, “Which fucking bastard was counting…Pow! Pow! Pow!…”
ACT VI
THE AGE OF UNDEAD
It was the third day and Hans remained the sleeping beauty of the fables. Chris on the other hand, finally received permission to enter his recovery room. Bernard, his father tagged along with many eyes stalking their actions. One of them was the fastest knight in the world, Dijkstra. Many wondered, even Arat, as to why this short-fuse maniac was this calm, but Dijkstra was only fine outside, inside he was in turmoil over what Bernard was thinking himself- The Elderwood.
Chris had mustered all his courage to come here, he wanted to hate Hans but what his father said to him before soldered his thoughts that the future he was hoping for could be avoided. However, when he reached Hans, not a single word left his mouth he just blankly stared at him. He felt guilty because every attack of his back in the arena was aiming to take Hans's life. The good times they shared kept flashing in their minds, he felt apologetic for blaming him.
Bernard took a good look at Hans, the infant he pulled from the war had grown up. He wanted some of his dishonour to washed away but it remained stained in his conscience. He spoke as his son remained silent, “You’ve grown up well young Prince—”
“You got it wrong. I'm not a prince. Just Hans is fine” The sleeping boy woke up, giving many a breath of relief. He was surrounded by a lot of people, some genuinely cared for his well-being, some curious, some wanting the answers and some, so they could relieve themselves of guilt.
“I don't want to, but if I happen to sit on that throne,” Hans spoke further, clenching his fists in and out, trying to see if everything was working fine. And when everything seemed fine, he added, “Then it will became my duty to avenge him,… We’ll be enemies, sir. That seems unavoidable.” His words shook Chris from within, he wanted to avoid this scenario and it was blatantly showing up on his face. So Hans added pointing at Chris, “So, remain still in Clandor and do not leave. I don’t wanna fight with that idiot again.”
When Hans was finished with his words, Arat chimed in making the most of the situation as he declared, “Your son must repent in your place, Bernard.” His wise head working in full swing, planning and scheming, “You will never be forgiven for your sins, but seeing your son inheriting some of the Imperial blood, I can’t just let him fall on others’ hands. So he will serve in Parv after his graduation. Earning you pardon as long as you don’t show yourself outside of Clandor." Arat paused as he found Hans glaring at him, as he was trying to find where Arat was going with this. Looking at the contemplating face of Hans, Arat chuckled inside and added, “After hearing the prince, that's how far my genoristy can go. You are welcome to deny it, I hope you do deny. ”
If it was up to him, he would have ordered the annihilation of Bernard and his son at this very moment. However, doing so would have resulted in upsetting the boy who was quick in running away from the throne. Thinking more, he sighed, adding, “I’m giving in, so think hard—”
“There is nothing to think. He will serve Parv, his motherland as he should have been—”
“Screw you, you old snake, who says I'll even go to Parv. There was a huge IF in my words before.” Hans rebuked, interrupting both, obvious to everyone that he was addressing Arat. Then pointing to Chirs, he declared, “Heis his own person, he is fifteen, and he can decide for himself.” As Hans’s words fell, all eyes turned to Chris, asking his opinion.
Hearing those words from Hans, a little smile etched on Chris’s face as he answered, “I will, if Hans is there.”
“Look at this bastard, I took his side and he is throwing everything at me.” Hans chuckled, and a sudden thought hit him, “Oh, yes, I must’ve got the second place.” He tried standing up, removing the sheets of cloth covering him.
“No, you did not.” Walter rained on his parade before it could begin, and explained, “You fainted first so Chris was crowned winner, but he was also not in a condition to continue… so.…”
“Damn it…” Hans cursed, mumbling, “I lost. My chance…”
Seeing Hans almost pulling out his hair, Walter asked everyone to leave. And when everyone followed his words, the professor turned to another individual, trying to hide away in a corner, “You too.” As Walter pointed, Hans finally set his eyes on the boy standing in the corner. “All three days, except for maybe bathroom breaks, that boy didn’t even move an inch.”
“I inspire loyalty, don’t you think, professor.” Hans smirked.
“Senior,” Vanir interjected before Walter could say anything, continuing, “You know, you are my ticket out of misery, right? So promise me you never fall again like this…"
“I can’t promise you that Vanir. Grandpa always says, there is someone stronger than you somewhere. And if I won’t fall, how would I learn to rise again? That’s how this world works. But if you are that concerned, then be the one lifting me. That’s what is in your hands.”
“Haa…” Vanir heaved, remarking, “That is some hardcore cringe, but I'll try—”
“One of these days. I'm gonna sew that mouth of yours, Junior. That was probably the coolest thing I’ve said and you botched—”
“Then recover quickly, senior.” Vanir jolted out of Hans’s room his eyes moistened with happiness, and Hans turned to Walter, asking, “So professor, mind giving me the book—”
“Oh stop it,” Walter gestured, waving his hand, “I know that you know that I don’t have the book—”
“Yeah, you fu..lost it to Xandor.”
“No, I traded it.”
“What? You backstabber, you promised that to me.”
“Xandor came to me, telling the truth that Book of Power is just a hoax—”
“And you believe him—”
“Do you think, I’m still shitting in my pants, farmboy?”
“Why would I even want to know that, eew!” Hans squealed.
“Stop getting smart with me farm boy—”
“So you knew everything, then why did you help me get here,” Hans asked, confused, “I mean clearing every obstacles, giving me special treatment and siding with me so I can focus on preparation—”
“Because Xandor added that in the trade. He made a deal with you, didn’t he?" Walter asked, "So what was it he wanted?”
“What will I get telling you—”
“Ho, look at this. Our farmboy is acting cute." Walter remarked, "Well, you are talking like a Prophet member. I'm proud of that at least.”
“Haa.. I thought Xandor really stole it from you”
"Do you think, I'm that foolish to let a treasure slip by my hand?” Xandor smirked.
“It's not you," Hans shook his head, "it's just that Xandor seemed perfectly capable of doing it.”
Walter wanted to know many things, "How he was that proficient with spears and daggers, heck the boy even knew how to swing a heavy mace. And to top everything, how the hell he could transform into an elder wood?" But he left all the questions in his head and let the boy to rest.
However, for Hans, rest was the last thing he wanted. The failure to acquire Solar Mage still lingered in his mind. “Agh..” He groaned, “There is no use overthinking, I have to get it from Xandor another way.. but where is she, I heard her..she was saying something about forgiving..” He kept waiting, but instead of Delimira, the sleep fairy visited him and he drifted off to dreamlands.
“Armin..you are the king who butchered his own family.” Hans raised his head, to take a good look at who or what was talking to him yet with the vast knowledge in his head, he couldn’t recognise the creature, bat-like wings, tall and imposing, with scales that shimmered like polished emeralds. It was a group surrounding him, their upper body was serpentine, covered in iridescent scales that transitioned seamlessly into humanoid torsos. Their arms were powerful and ended in clawed hands, and their faces were a mesmerizing blend of human and lizard-like features. They had striking, slit-pupil eyes, and their hair resembled flowing silken-scaled manes.
One of the threatening figure suddenly appeared before him, like he had skipped the space and impaled him with his fangs. Hans woke up gasping. “This shit… happens every time I pass out. For real, I need to learn…” His eyes led him to the person sitting beside his bed as his ranting came to a sudden halt.
“I heard you won,” Hans said, trying smooth talk, but Delimira was not happy hearing it. Standing up, she declared, “I like doing charity not accepting it.”
“Still a stuck up. You seem to be doing fine.” Hans remarked, but what she did next started him. “You okay?” She asked like something precious of hers got hurt.
“You don’t have to get senti about it. I’m fine, heck I can even run if I try now. See..” Hans showed how good of a health he was in.
"You sure?" She asked once more.
"Tsk, I'm telling you, I'm fine. I can go another round with Chris." He assured, trying to give Delimira a sense of relief. Or as he thought until she spoke, “Better clench your teeth, Mr Prince.”
“What?" Hans sensed, it wasn't that she was concerned about him. she just wanted to know if it was okay for him to get hit. "Is a ‘sorry’ with a capital S won’t do?”
“You are awfully late on that. let's bury the hatchet." She smirked, "Seventeen times. You hit me seventeen times. As I've said, clench your teeth, Mr. Prince.” She pinned him down and secured a dominant position on the bed, straddling Hans's stomach. She began in a rhythm, her punches rained down while Hans cursed, “Which fucking bastard was counting…Pow! Pow! Pow!…”
