Chapter two

Chapter two

Turned out he was late after all. As the last Prince approached through the doors of the courtroom, he realized this was more of a meeting than he thought.

His four older brothers stood in order of age; Jeremy, Raphael, Charles and Martin. Surrounding them were a handful of guards, a bunch of maids and of course the considerable clan that was part of the extended family.

Then finally, standing before them all, Pius Madonna, the Royal attorney with the will in his grip.

Abraham noticed all eyes fall on him when his presence was felt; the usual dark suffocating and uncomfortable darkness. Most faces paled with fear, while others grimaced with hatred for him.

Well, he shrugged. Their problem. " I apologise for my lateness," he rolled his eyes and said just before he stood at the last space after the four other Princes.

Last…the word made him want to puke.

"In respect to the King's last words to me, I choose to announce his will the moment after his funeral," said Madonna.

Abraham was sure the man was disturbed by the fear he could smell from him…quite literally. Was it still his presence or was it something else? The will?

The Prince tried to wonder if his late father had danced to his demands. Or did the old man play him? He rolled his eyes.

That would mean the joke was on him. Seems he needed to pay the devil a visit. But then;

"Jeremy Tonnel…you will receive all lands conquered in war against the neighbouring Kingdoms," the middle aged lawyer went on, "you are expected to build an empire from dust and rule it as Duke."

Duke?!

The question crossed round the entire courtroom as a soft, angry murmur. Well except Abraham. He had a small smile on. His eldest brother, the calmest and most composed, harboured a dark frown. Who else was meant to be King except he!

Madonna's next words calmed the murmur as everyone fought to  listen, "Raphael Tonnel…you'll receive all of your father's gold deposits in Spain. You're expected to start a trade in favour of the clan's economy."

The Prince he spoke to bowed in submission, but the frown of confusion he held concerning what his elder brother received hadn't faded.

Abraham was drumming his thighs in excitement, patiently waiting for his turn. Not as patient as you would think though.

"Charles Tonnel…you will receive the family's business. You are expected to exceed the limits of profit with it and of course…build an extension."

Almost there…

" Martin Tonnel…you'll receive all major estates in Italy. You are expected to merge and rule them as Marquess, make more as far as success is concerned. "

Abraham glanced up with a smile at the man, realising just then the fear he only previously smelt was now seeping unto his face like makeup.

" Abraham Tonnel, " the man stuttered, " You will receive the throne as new King…"

More murmur, most gasps.

"…You are expected to rule it as you see fit. "

The Prince grinned and watched his brothers, especially Jeremy, wishing to see how that self control of his could help him now.

All brothers glared at him, as much as it was all they could do. Well it seemed Martin had something to say, "This is madness! Of all sons my father had, he decided to settle for the youngest…and the demonic one!" This particular son remained his purest temptation.

Abraham turned to him with narrow eyes, fighting the urge to bare his fangs at him.

Martin had flinched slightly then.

At that, the last Prince thought better, shot the four others his last dose of disdainful glares before he spun on one heel and walked away. Even before they were dismissed.

***

Razia found herself doing it again!

Deep in the Kingdom of Valish, her father's mansion mounted in the middle of an arid portion. The choice of location was supposed to stop her from doing what she normally did…but nothing had changed.

In slow, graceful steps, Razia Singh stalked upon the walkway, draped in her long, blue cloak that swept at her heels. She was in that trance again. And as though she was being controlled, she found herself just walking to where her inner demon wanted her to be.

Just as in every other time it happened, a white glow replaced her eyes, the same color running down the length of her curl of hair, as though she was in her seventies.

But then she was as young as every other maiden of her age and wished to be as normal as they were too.

That didn't change the fact she was different though.

The people around shouted out her name to stop her, a sound that kept drowning in the invisible field that possessed her. Nobody dared to touch her, because of course they still had plans to live.

Now she stopped walking and turned her face to both sides of her, seemingly searching for something, her teeth gritting in anger and frustration.

Slowly, her family lined behind her, although a reasonable distance away for safety.

"Do not worry," her father whispered in assurance to the others around him, "She won't find water here in the desert."

Razia kept on searching, fingers curved in rage and white eyes intensifying. Just to prove them wrong, she squatted and set her palms to touch the dry sand, forcing all her strength into her fingers and hissing into the void.

The clan behind her suddenly felt the Earth rumble beneath their feet, and it wasn't stopping.

Now steadily, she rose and faced them. Along with her movement, underground water emerged through several pores on the surface and shot upwards, forming snake like tentacles that danced about her.

A satisfied smirk formed on her lips; wicked and intent.

At that point, the dancing water froze. Both in motion and in form,  taking a new form of pricky, ice tentacles.

"Take cover!" A man shouted after he had begun running back through the gates of their estate.

Razia wasn't doing anything obvious, just speaking to the water while it obeyed. As fast as light, the ice parted into uncountable sharp spikes, hanging in air and waiting for her next order.

Which came soon after.

Just like the numerous arrows of war, the icy spikes surged forward towards the people with that speed you would not escape from unless you harboured grace.

Luckily, her family all found shelter…except.

Singh Raj, India's largest wine dealer, also her father, vowed to be by her side while she went through her usual demonic trance. He only realized how foolish the decision was when her attacks came forward. And no matter how stupid the thought might have been then, he turned to run.

Nothing less than two handfuls of them pierced into his back, and time stopped.

...

He let blood drip freely down his jaw from his mouth, tears blinding him while he stared at the rest of his family. Looking at them, they were too dazed to react.

Razia snapped out of the possession suddenly, gasping in shock and misunderstanding. The white color of her hair and eyes slowly faded back to normal. And it was then she took the time to realise the grievance of what she'd done.

Singh Raj was lying limp upon the floor with ice deep inside of him. Things she was sure came from her.

Farther away, every other soul gawked at her, afraid and disappointed.

But she…she looked at the body one more time and swallowed.