11.5: Origin
Carnal: AwakeningPART TWO
(Baekhyun. Age 8)
(Zeros. Ages 7-12)
named. 10 years ago. Baekhyun's memories.Desire is a parasite -
- a selfish leech that is just as powerful dormant as it is when it breathes life.
It was a lack of conscience then, to understand the depths of his desire. Or maybe it was the lack of empathy for the many lives that would eventually crumble due to his existence.
Whatever it may be, the callous indifference grew with his birth and formed into something that became his other half.
That night was a night unlike any other. It was a night spawned by the threads of his fear and a longing for something more than the colorless life he was living.
That night, his limbs were sore; cold sweat slipping against the nape of his neck as the thick fog soaked into the layers of his white linen shirt.
That night, he ran with vigor through miles of dimly lit tunnels, until the weariness caught up to him - until the jagged edges of rock parted to reveal ivy-laced iron gates.
The eastern guard was a prison for the most vile, but underneath its stark appearance, it was a place for secrets.
It was a curious notion, then -
- a calling to satisfy that wondering itch running free in the back of his mind.
He pressed his lips together - a restlessness glazed upon his eyes as he traced the rust still clinging onto an iron gate, the Gate of Trials. This was not some mere welding of iron that guarded the prison, but one that was imbued with a spell of protection.
Any unwelcomed visitor would burn to a crisp upon its touch.
But he was not just a visitor. Every inch of Gaamor was his since he first took breath - he could feel the spirit of the land coursing like energy through his veins.
He dug his fingers beneath the twists of overgrown foliage until he touched the cold of metal.
It always began the same way. It was something he never truly understood - how his powers actually came to be. One day it just existed like him and one day, he knew exactly what to do with it.
And it linked to every impulsive seed of his thoughts.
A light- warm and vivid as it seeped through the pores of his palms until it enveloped everything around him.
And then it ended with the iron gate now warped beyond recognition as if it had always been that way.
The corners of his lips dipped down and then he continued on.
Just like the extent of his true powers, there was something else he kept a secret from the King. There was an echo to his shadow as he entered a vast cavern. It was always a second late and yet, a second faster.
“----your Highness,” a voice whispered.
He paused and then watched as his shadow took form.
“I thought I told you not to follow me,” he threatened it coldly.
“----Forgive me, your highness,” the shadow bowed, “I only wished to report that your father has returned from Renfell.”
He cursed, his jaw tight for he had assumed he had more time.
“Distract him,” he ordered after some thought, “until I’m done here.”
“Yes, your highness,” the shadow took another deep bow and then diminished into the darkness.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
The gust of wind was invigorating and frigid as he admired the grandeur of the cavern; he stood dazed, lost in the hypnotic glow of moonlight that showered the space from above. The colors were vivid, cool tones of rock and moss against the sparks of gold scattered like dust around him - tiny fireflies blinking with curiosity at his presence.
If he had more time, he would have laid right there and perhaps gone to sleep. But this visit to the eastern guard was a matter of urgency.
He stepped to the center, scanning the circular girth of the room, definitely man-made. The layout was almost ceremonial in nature with three arched entrances spread exactly to the north, east, and west.
His chest rose with a deep breath. This was the place, he was sure of it.
The quiet was almost suffocating until he jerked his head east, dilated irises straining to identify the almost indistinguishable shuffle he heard.
Another shuffle, something dragging -
- chains.
“Who are you?” the voice was young, male.
He gulped, now completely aware that he was the active subject of not just one but several suspicious and piercing gazes.
Three to the east.
Two to the west.
And one to the north.
All chained.
And yet, he was the one surrounded.
The previous confidence in his spine slowly slackened under the weight of their presence. Their chains dragged against the dirt as pale starved bodies unveiled from the dark entrances. Their limbs were thin, their torso draped with tattered cloth, and their skin covered with a multitude of scars as a result of the experiments they had endured.
So the rumors were true. His father’s council really had been trying to recreate his powers in these subjects. But he didn’t think there would be so many. He had assumed only a few would have survived.
If I had any other choice, I would help them escape. He thought to himself. After all, they were just children not much older than he was.
Before they were brought here, they had families. A mother. A home. Things they had been deprived of all for the sake of his own selfish desire for friendship.
He clenched his fists.
The shadows contoured their faces just enough that he could see the evident threat in their expressions - like wild cubs baring their teeth.
They feared him because unlike them, he w
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