­­­Warning: There will be violence, blood, gore, and, eventually, sexual content. This story contains homosexuality. Do not read if any of these warnings do not meet your approval.

Family Bonds

Milae screamed as a large handseized ahandful of dark hair, dragging him backwards through the great hallway. His pale bare feet scrabbled against the stone floor, unable to bring him upright or gain him the leverage to pull away. A deep crimson substance splashed across his heel and legs from a puddle. All around, Milae heard his people shriek into the night, their desperate voices rebounding off limestone walls, echoing back mockingly. Everywhere he looked, blood was being spilled, men and women alike being beaten, children dragged away much like he himself was... Only he wasn’t a child. Milae was the youngest prince of Royette- Not born to rule, but to live and bring honor to his father with whatever life he chose. Soon, he would be seventeen.

The troll clutching his hair gave a particularly cruel wrench of the hand, sending Milae to his knees. Milae cried out again as he was hauled forward with renewed brutality, away from the wasting of his castle, his home. A dark figure loomed at the main entrance, outlined from behind by moonlight, cast into shadow so that pitiless, glowing green eyes were the only features perceptible. Only when Milae was tossed at the menacing creature’s feet was he able to make out the master of the chaos. Teraeir, King of the West Mountains. Lord of the scum driven from the inlands.

Milae appeared as a small child to this master’s eyes, but he staggered to his feet regardless and glared with as much dignity as his own father would if he were there.

The sinister king chuckled darkly and reached a hand out to barely brush over the young prince’s cheek, a twisted smile on his lips as the boy flinched away. “My, what have we here, Hanik? Have you brought me a little mouse?”

The troll still standing to Milae’s rear laughed sickly. Milae felt flakes of slobber hit the back of his neck and clenched his jaw. The king could see him tremble as a young thin boy, almost a man, cowering in front of him.... but he would not suffer his own dignity further by responding to such a weak taunt.

“Hmmm.... A mute little mouse, it would seem.” Teraeir’s grin was wicked, his teeth almost appearing fanged to Milae’s young eyes. “I think he plays me a fool. Let us bring him to my castle and see what sounds he can truly make.... I’ve heard little prince’s can scream very prettily.”

Milae’s eyes barely had time to widen before pain exploded in the back of his head. A bright flash of light darted across his vision before all went black. The last vision imprinted on his mind was one of his uncle Teraeir laughing.