Chapter 144:
Meaningful Traipse
Note: Slight warning for mild bloodshed, violence, and cursing.
Traipse: Tedious or tiring journey on foot
“Prince Clarence!” One of the Yursinean soldiers shouted, raising his sword towards the previous royal. “If we bring you back to the palace, at least we won’t return empty handed!”
The three rebels that had traveled with Silas’s group were eying down the prince, their focus split between the lost Yursinean royal, now pushed back behind their comrades, and the group of Yursinean soldiers. As much as they hated the crown prince, it was clear the soldiers had to be taken care of before they could begin to question their captain.
“Focus on the knights!” Maeir yelled, bringing attention away from Clarence. “We’ll talk about him later!”
Swords were drawn, and feet were dragging against the ground. There were not many soldiers, and they were in rough shape, however they knew it would be stupid to look down on them. They were still highly-trained Yursinean knights, and they could very well kill one of their group if not careful.
The first to attack was one of the Yursinean knights, attacking one of the rebel soldiers with a wide swing of his broadsword. When the first swing missed, he quickly lifted his sword again and slashed in the other direction, his movements faster than the weight of the sword implied. The rebel soldier that dodged the attack swept to the side, starting his own offensive as the other rebels were occupied by the other knights.
“Clarence, keep out of the way.” Maeir shouted, parrying an attack of her own with a heavy growl.
The knight attacking her laughed, staring at her aged face, thinking the battle would quickly be won. “An old hag of an elf? Today’s your last day on this land, you scum!”
The rebel soldiers, still somewhat miffed, reacted quickly to the battle and fought alongside Maeir, avoiding Silas and the prince within his vicinity. Meanwhile, swinging the man’s blow back at him, Maeir’s smile grew, morbidly so, and Clarence found himself stuck in place for a moment as he stared at her face. A chill trailed down his spine, and he felt as though he were stuck in place on the very ground he stood.
Much like Clarence, Silas could never get used to the devilish smile Maeir had on her face as she slayed down the unsuspecting soldiers. Her moves were drawn out and fierce, guaranteeing a painful death full of suffering before their last breath, paralyzing their bodies under the weight of her blade, and the last sight of their life being her twisted smile as she sliced their neck.
When he asked her why she smiled in such a fashion, so cruelly, Maeir gently patted Silas’s head, as if he were still a child, and said, “It’s because I know each one of them that falls to the ground, it means I will live another day.”
Unlike her thin frame, Maeir’s hits were agile and full of weight, successfully knocking her foes back before she slaughtered them with deftly aimed strikes. Silas kept his eyes forward, avoiding the butchering, but he could still hear the watery, soundless cries of one of the human knights falling to the ground, his neck sliced to the bone.
“My God-” Clarence could not help but say, his face reeling in disgust as Silas quickly moved in front of the prince, blocking a blow to the side.
Throwing back the blow, Silas shot a growl over his shoulder. “Be careful!”
Swallowing back a response, Clarence moved to cover Silas’s back, his lips quivering as he tried to hide his upturned lips, his feelings in disorder. Oddly enough, Clarence enjoyed the sound of Silas’s yelling voice. However, there was no time to quell on his increasingly strange tastes, most likely conditioned from his time spent in the palace with Silas.
Another blow came flying from the side, and Clarence was able to swiftly stab the knight in the shoulder, throwing him back with a sudden kick. As the man was thrown back, another took his place, shooting an arrow towards Silas.
“Arrow!” Maeir yelled, slicing down the archer with a wave of her sword, her expression fixated on the fiendish man in front of her.
As the arrow flew through the air, flying towards Silas, it felt as if the air fell stagnant. A soldier was pinning him in place with his attacks, leaving no room for Silas to step back and avoid the arrow. With its current path, it would hit Silas right in the left shoulder.
“Watch out!” Clarence shouted, shoving Silas out of the arrow’s way with his shoulder, thrusting his own sword into a soldier, his cheeks flushed red with anger.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“Are you alright?” Silas asked with a frown, stabbing his sword into the thigh of one of the knights as he attempted to kick Silas. Thursting the sword back, Silas lifted it with a swift slash and cut the man’s chest, throwing him to the ground in a pool of his own blood.
Even while injured, Clarence was able to assist as much as he could behind Silas, and soon, the rebels had completely cleared the group of knights, their bodies buried in fatigue and bathed in speckles of warm blood.
“One’s still alive over here.” Maeir said, walking over the bodies with a heavy grimace on her face, “I’ll take care of him-”
The nearby rebels glared towards Maeir, their swords still lifted as if there was yet an enemy to eliminate. Their aggressive auras were briefly stunted when Clarence spoke aloud, breaking the thick aura of tension hanging around them.
“Wait! I need to ask him something. Please, let me do it.” Clarence nearly begged, his eyes staring at Silas with a flash of emotion, leaving Silas soundless, only allowing him to nod his head in acceptance, leaving Maeir to move forward, blocking the line of sight between the rebels and Clarence with her own terrifying figure. .
On the grass laid an unfamiliar Yursinean knight. The aged knight, nearly arriving at death’s door, coughed up a large amount of blood, his eyes quivering as he attempted to keep his voice steady. It was the man that had attempted to pin Silas down, allowing the arrow to stab into him. The fact that he almost killed Silas made both Clarence and Maeir angry enough to slice the man in half, but the information he had was far too valuable to allow him to die with.
“You, listen to me-” The prince appeared by his side suddenly, the air around him hardening as he nearly lunged at the knight, speaking in a strong tone. “Tell me where Duke Cyneric is!” Clarence shouted, stomping his foot on the soldier’s bleeding chest, ignoring the man’s labored breathing.
“Duke Cyneric… the princesses… escaped.” The soldier choked, his voice weak as a passing breeze. “Two weeks ago-”
The soldier coughed again, and Clarence lowered himself down. Lifting his two hands, he began to shake the man’s shoulders violently with little regard for his lethal injuries. “Where are they! Where?”
“No one… knows. Somewhere… in this kingdom-” The man’s eyes, once quivering with life, fell dull. His head rolled back on his neck, laying limp in the air like a puppet without strings. Clarence’s hands, however, did not move off of the man’s collar, and instead, his strength only increased.
“Where are they!” Clarence screamed, his eyes red with tears. “Wake up!”
Silas grabbed Clarence’s shoulder, using his other hand to nearly pry Clarence’s hands off of the dying man’s clothes, smearing blood on their hands in the process. “Stop it, Clarence! He’s already dead!”
Droplets of blood pooled on Clarence’s hands. It was the first time he had touched a dead body so directly. As the feeling of warm blood trailed down his hands, he felt the urge of bugs crawling against his skin. While he attempted to find something to wipe the blood off, feeling somewhat unwell, Silas gave the prince his own handkerchief without a word, his eyes moving towards the rebels Maeir had been holding back with her presence.
“Thank you.” Clarence whispered, staring down at the dead body with a nauseous gaze as he stood up, using Silas’s arm for support. The pair acted as if they were the only two in the world, releasing a wave of disgust from the familiar rebels.
The small group of rebel soldiers watched the display between the two with cold eyes. It was obvious they held nothing but contempt for the prince and those who protected him. Their loyalty was towards Eva, not wholly to Maeir and Silas, who they felt had yet to earn their trust completely.
“Why are you protecting him, Maeir!” One of the soldiers shouted, lifting the tip of his sword to point it at Clarence, who was wrapped in Silas’s grasp. “He killed our men, hunted us down like cattle, and this is what you do to us?” The rebel gritted his teeth, his eyes red with anger and resistance. “There’s nothing that bastard can do to redeem himself, and if you choose to side with him, then you’ll die here with him!”
“Turning on your comrades so easily? You have no loyalty.” Maeir spat in response preparing her sword. “He’s here with us for a reason. Who else would know the palace as well as him? If you’d listen-”
“Bullshit! You must have colluded with that traitor!” The furious man stepped forward, his eyes fixated on Silas, who pushed Clarence behind him again and again with little regard for his own safety. The rebel’s teeth were gritted, his eyes flaming red as the mana in his body surged, nearly threatening to spill out. Maeir’s own mana surged around her, and the smell of magic spilled into the air, the two differing mana trails flying like sparks in the air, each fighting to overpower the other in a battle far more aggressive than a physical battle.
“You fucking bitch-” Seeing neither side had an advantage, and one of the standing rebels stepped forward with his sword, mana swirling around the blade, his steps focused on Silas.
Unwilling to allow her son to be injured, Maeir moved. Not a word was uttered in response. Only the sound of a knife flying through the air cut through the tension that had grown cantankerous, nearly to the point of boiling out into an all-out war between the once familiar rebels. As the rebels soldiers became aware of the knife, it was already too late.
Slice. The rebel reached for his neck, but no sound could be uttered other than a gurgling sound of blood rushing out of his throat and mouth concurrently. He grasped the knife at his throat, attempting to pull it out, but he suddenly lost all the strength in his body as he fell to the ground, his body collapsing into a heap of blood. After twitching for a few moments, his breathing disordered, his eyes fell glassy, and his struggle ceased entirely.
Another small knife rested in Maeir’s hand, ready to be thrown at a moment’s notice. “Touch either of them, and I’ll end your life!”
“You’ve done shit to earn our trust, and now you kill one of your own men? Whose side are you on, you damn traitor!” The second rebel yelled, spit flying out of his clenched teeth.
“Stop!” Silas pushed Clarence back, his sword held high as he attempted to mediate the worsening situation. “It doesn’t have to be like this! If you listen, we’ll explain-”
“Shut the fuck up!” The third man yelled, his eyes full of fury. “How dare you… how dare you!”
Maeir’s fury was ignited by the man’s phrase towards her son. “Don’t you fucking dare talk to my son that way.” The words hissed out of her lips like a death call, “I’ll kill you.”
The rebels were strong, but their fighting experience was not nearly as strong as two trained soldiers. Maeir and Silas took down the men, allowing Clarence only a few hits before he was pushed back behind Silas, guaranteeing his safety before they reached the palace. Rebel soldiers fell one by one, showering the ground with blood and fallen flesh like snowflakes. Maeir moved fluidly around the fallen men, swinging her blade with fury as the last of the men began to weaken, leaving very few on their feet.
As one of the men fell at Maeir’s feet, she found herself lost in thought for a moment, staring at the stiff face at her feet. If it weren’t for him, maybe they still would be allies. Maeir thought, walking to the dying man’s side as Clarence and Silas approached him, Clarence’s face full of thoughts as he stepped one foot closer to the dying man, as if anticipating they would stand again.
Silas stepped back once, looking over Clarence’s condition with a quick gaze, nearly forgetting the man had yet to cease breathing. Without warning, the man lifted himself with his shoulders, mustering just enough energy to fight one last time.
“Die!” With his labored breathing, the final man lunged at Clarence, but before his sword could land on Clarence, Silas hurried and moved in front of him, his left arm gently pushing Clarence back. Silas’s wide back pressed up against the prince’s chest, his shoulder blades resting on the prince’s chest.
Silas’s face was grim as he pushed back the man’s sword, his expression falling. “Get back!” He thrusted the man back with a heavy push, using the flat edge of the sword to throw the man to the ground.
“I’ll kill you!” The man swung his sword from the ground, narrowly missing the prince’s legs as his sword was soon kicked out of his hand by Maeir, who approached nearly unnoticed. With one wave of her dagger, the man soon laid dead.
“Good riddance.” Maeir’s shorter figure stood, staring down at the rebel soldier with a smile that could make the King of Hell go mad. Her dagger sliced the man swiftly with little mercy, ending his life as his airway was severed in the same fashion as his peers. “Once they found out the prince was with us, they were no longer trustworthy. If they were willing to listen, this never would have happened-” Her voice trailed as she waved the blood off of her dagger. “-but I understand their anger.”
Quietly, Clarence stared at the fallen men, his eyes stuck on the heaps of bloodied flesh. Watching the two groups of men, rebels and palace knights alike, fallen onto the same ground, their dead bodies inhabiting the same space as if it were normal. A sick feeling welled in his heart, and the sudden weight of his presence came crashing down, now fighting through the initial wave of shock.
He gawked at the bloodshed, holding back the tempting feeling of vomiting with a heavy grimace. The last time he saw such a scene, he had placed it far back in his mind, nearly irretrievable in his current state of mind. However, as he stared over the sea of bodies, that familiar blonde elf stood over them, his face full of compassion as he stood over them, looking down at them like a heavenly martyr.
Clarence knew would not be accepted anywhere. But now, the person who he once admired, the person he once despised with every fiber of his being, and now the person he loved was the only person who accepted him. That same person.
Silas, and even more surprisingly, his mother too.
Staring over the rebels’ corpses, Silas felt a pang of pity well up in his chest. The men that he had grown to know were slaughtered by their own kind. The men that were supposed to aid their journey, traveling together in a group to ease the burden of war soon became a heavy burden of its own. It was an outcome no one wanted, but it was a necessary occurrence.
Even though it was a short period, their deaths marked a dark time within their group, and gave even more incentive to hide the prince. Clarence still was useful within the palace, but the only way he could survive from this point on would be using his body’s mana to transform himself.
Otherwise, another situation like this would happen again.
The area fell silent, Silas turning to check on Clarence, who had yet to say anything, still hidden behind Silas. “Are you okay, Clarence?”
“It was my fault for being stupid.” Hearing Silas’s gentle voice subdued the loud ringing in the prince’s ears. The close proximity of Silas brought with it the weak scent of medicinal herbs, and the prince smelled that scent like a lifeline, barely hanging on to the feelings he had left. “I’m sorry.”
While Silas fell silent, his mother spoke next. “I may not like you, Clarence-” Maeir began, walking to the pile of bodies to collect her knives in a casual fashion. “-but you’re a part of our team for now. Though, if you do something that stupid again, I won’t save your sorry ass. You hear me?” Maeir’s eyes burned through Clarence like a sheet of ice, pressing on him as she retrieved the rest of her blades, placing them back in their case with quick movements.
Through the weak waves of nausea, Clarence soundlessly nodded his head before he uttered in a thick voice. “I understand. Thank you both… for keeping me alive.” He uttered, his hand nearly muffling his voice. A growing appreciation for Maeir grew deep within his heart, and he could not help but look over at her with new appreciation. “At least I know my friends are safe. I don’t have to worry about them being in the palace during the attack.”
“The knight said that they had escaped, right? Do you plan to look for them after the rebellion?” Silas asked directly, unsure of what the future would bring for the prince. “After you find your family, of course.”
“If I’m still alive by then, I would like to find them. And maybe begin to repair the damage I’ve caused in this kingdom too.” Clarence said, his gaze falling on the two elves with some appreciation. “Now that I know what it’s like to be an elf.”
Maeir, on the receiving end of the prince’s warm gaze, felt her stomach turn. “Stop staring at me like that and help me move these bodies. Your royal hands aren’t used to doing the bloody work directly, are they?” Her next words put a damper on the mildly lukewarm atmosphere, but Silas only shot his mom a look, hoping she would stop picking on Clarence for a moment.
The three moved quickly, using gloves to drag the bodies into the forest, outside of view. The large puddles of blood began to sink into the grass by the time the corpses were hidden in the woods, and the bodies were left with little regard. As if they were comrades in arms, the bodies lay haphazardly, placed where they were dragged.
What little supplies that could be scavenged were scavenged, and Maeir did not mutter even a short elven prayer to the fallen elves as she stepped over their bodies, taking what was needed. The spare mana items were removed and passed to Clarence by Maeir, her wordless gestures far more direct than her speech.
“Thank you.” Clarence accepted the items with bare hands, having already thrown his gloves away, soaked in blood. He held the bottle of mana potion and stared at the liquid in interest before he put it on his waist satchel, preparing to continue their journey.
“You’re elven enough. Don’t forget to use your gem.” Silas added, lifting his hand to grab the small purple gem hanging from the prince’s chest, the knuckles of his hand nearly brushing against the prince’s breast. “This may save your life, Clarence. Another mistake like this can’t happen.”
Clarence paused, staring down at Silas’s hand with a thoughtful gaze, his hand eventually landing on Silas’s in a casual fashion. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Staring down at the hand on his, Silas let the other man hold his hand for a moment more before he retracted it, leaving Clarence on his own as he stepped forward. “There’s no time to bury them, is there?” A trace of warmth lingered in his hand, the feeling of the prince’s fingers entangling in his own still lingering, like a gentle peck to the lips.
Staring at the prince’s emptied hand, Maeir sneered, sheathing her final knife. “After turning on their comrades? They don’t deserve a proper burial.”
“But they were rebels, like us. It would be cruel to leave them out like this.” Silas said, the pain in his voice palpable, uncomfortable with the fresh, permeating stench of death hanging in the air.
Maeir shook her head. “We’ll be late if we dally any longer. Let’s get moving.”
No more words were exchanged as Silas turned away from the corpses, unable to watch as the nearby insects began their lucious feast, creating a sickening dull hum of buzzing in the air, desecrating what should have been a silent memorial. With his lips taut, Silas could only shake his head in pity and step forward, staring over his shoulder at the motionless prince, who stared back at him with an unreadable expression.
Everything happens for a reason, huh? Clarence thought, thinking of the half-lidded eyes, lifelessly staring at him from the pile of dead bodies. Maybe that’s why I’m still here with you, Silas.
Stepping back on the trail, the three were far more vigilant than before, the weight of death hanging over their now shortened party like a sheet of fog. While Maeir and Silas fell quiet, compartmentalizing the bloodshed of the war with lingering thoughts of their family back at home, the family they would finally reunite with once and for all.
And, for the prince, his thoughts were held deep to his heart, nearly spilling out as he stared at the back of Silas’s head, lingering on his soft blonde hair with longing. Maybe one day, when Clarence was brave enough, he could finally hold the hand of the elf that saved him, and say, If I can live through the palace rebellion, I would like to spend the rest of my days with you.
…
This felt short initially, but after edits it felt hella long ;A; Chopped a small section off I would like to focus on next week, as I’m worried about some things making sense/ being too short and not explaining well. I feel that this section was not so plot heavy as it was a relationship turning point, and Clare is behaving so much like Baby Silas when he first went on missions ;; My heart… On a good note, YMtK turned 4 this year (3 years online in September!), and I wanted to finish it this year, but let’s see what my business brings!
Aha, and, if you saw my discord update, I unfortunately have no good news, no movement, as my plan B/C both fell through (ahaha lovely), so, while my business is still new, I will have to wait until another opportunity comes =u=; My stress levels skyrocketed this last week over my day job and business, so if I ever disappear for a week, I will most likely be back and/or late…. D:
Again, don’t be like me, please, all. I’m a cockroach of stress. Take care of your bodies and eat well. On that note, I hope you all continue to enjoy YMtK ;u; Much love >y<
Congrats on the 4 year mark.
That’s a long time but worth every minute of reading.
Thanks again for the chapter.