Chapter Text
Riddle shivered in his dorm, bracing himself against the heart-shaped vanity.
There was no definite reason why, the windows had been closed at 8:01 sharp— as per rule one hundred and five— the thermostat remained set to a cozy, and expected, temperature. Still, Riddle was freezing. Encased in a kind of aching cold he hadn’t felt since his over-blot. He shuddered as prickles of ice ran down his spine; radiating a thorny pain. Ice seemed to even fill his lungs, rattling whenever he took a breath.
Riddle shook his head vigorously, making the checkered walls of his room spin. A migraine was skirting across his temples and pressure was starting to build. Riddle pressed a handle to his temples listlessly, he needed to be ready for his classes and there was now time to dawdle. A Rosehearts could never falter, after all.
He picked up a worn makeup brush and pallet, and got to work. More goosebumps began to feather across his skin; in time with the brush strokes Riddle painted across his face. The foundation, meticulously matched to his skin and its formula tweaked every so often, applied to his face like a porcelain mask. A type of armor between him and the world. An armor that had been forced upon him, but helpful all the same.
Minutes later, Riddle finished the makeup with a weary sigh. His mask firmly in place, he began to attend to his hair. Riddle could still hear his mother’s screech with every stroke, her voice echoing inside his head berating him for carelessly hurrying. Still, his freckles were more or less easily concealed. (Riddle still didn’t understand what his Mother had been thinking; engaging him to a prince of the Savanah and not expecting his skin to tan or freckle).
He combed his hair in soft waves, taming the frizz somewhat. It looks fine, Riddle reasoned, studiously ignoring the bottle of hair dye in the corner of the dressing table. The half-empty bottle was taunting and belittling him. It’s product becoming ever so needed when his roots started to show.
That however, was a problem for future, more aware Riddle. He rushed to stand up, wincing as his wooden chair groaned against the floor. Riddle stood slightly taller at the sound.
He opened the door of a curiously carved dresser, a gift from Che’nya, and began to dress.
The dorm uniform was familiar, polished to perfection, and most importantly safe. There were no secrets held in its folds, no questions or unfulfilled dreams.
As he finished the last button, punctuality was a virtue, Riddle began to adjust his hair to return it to a non-tousled state. (checking if the dye had given away. Mother always despised when his natural hair shown through. Faintly he could feel the pang of bloody red, manicured nails digging into him)
His hands brushed subconsciously against the edges of scar tissue atop his ears. The one feature of his father that was impossible to hide. When Roddle had been younger, his ears just beginning to elongate, he had been overjoyed. It marked a clear thread between him and his father. He had rushed to show Mother. His eyes had widened in fear as she harshly grasped him, sewing scissors perched in her hand coming too——-
Well, Riddle thought fixing his hair, it could always be worse. He walked solidly to the door, reaching towards the knob.
Suddenly sparks started to fizzle against the metal handle. Lightning arching into the dorm, illuminating everything in a sickly green sort of glow. Riddle’s eyes widened. He hadn’t lost control of his magic, either innate or learned, since he had been a young child. His breath caught in his throat and his chest tightening as he fought off the wild panic. Riddle fell against the door, sliding into a crouch on the floor. The position was just to reign in his emotions and catch his breath, Riddle told himself—(not to make himself smaller, hidden, even… safe).
His father… Riddle had not thought of him in years. It was clear the man was fae, at least in some capacity, maybe even a citizen of Briar Valley. A man who could share some insight about the magic that had just surrounded Riddle. (A man who could save him). He stood up hesitatingly, legs shaking as he regained his balance. The head mage would have records of all the students and their lineages. A blatant invasion of privacy, but a useful one nonetheless.
The problem, Riddle mused, was getting the useless man to do some semblance of his job. A startled smile fringed across Riddle’s face. The head mage couldn’t refuse the request of a recently over blotted student, a request from a recently over blotted house warden even less so. Riddle started to walk towards the head mage’s office, he had a bird to blackmail after all.
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Lilia cackled as he raced through the halls of Diasomnia. His voice echoing in a strange cacophony that reverberated against the worn walls.
Students of all ages shivered in fear. The cruel melody stalling their thought and actions, unnerving them in a way no human sound could. Even Sebek seemed to feel a tremor. Despite his loud insistence that “No sound could daunt the GREAT SEBEK”.
Lilia arrived at the room in record time, obliterating the door completely as he stormed in. “Fufufu”, His eyes seemed to glow red in the candlelight, glimmering even brighter as he stared into the room.
Two figures were on the magnificent bed. An over abundance of pillows, blankets, and the like surrounding them. Anyone else would have felt they were intruding; but Lilia only felt a sense of satisfaction. Oh how he loved his sons.
It was still fun to poke fun at them though, “I do think it’s a bit early for that~” he drawled “After all… you are only engaged”.
Malleus glared at the older fae. Adjusting mounds of blankets and pillows of the bed to cover Silver from view. “I see you’ve returned from your trip, Lilia”.
”Yes, Well, there was no point in continuing it” Lilia paused, “The merfolk didn’t have what we need”.
Malleus’ eyes narrowed, and streaks of lightning and thunder started to illuminate the sky. The old gothic windows of Diasomnia groaned in effort as they were hit with a sudden torrent of rain. Lilia smirked, aah the melodrama of youth.
”If you just let me help, my magic could complete the spell—“ Malleus pleaded “it would save you so much pa—-“
“And make you blood adopt your fiancé” Lilia interrupted him with an arched brow “I highly doubt that will go over well~”. He watched happily as Malleus turned three different shades of green, and started to sputter.
Yes, Lilia ached. The unfinished spell digging burrs into his body with each breath. It would be so easy to except Malleus’ help—- political or magical ramifications be damned, he wanted his sons to be happy and safe—— but, with the spell’s nature introducing an unknown variable could very well harm them all.
Lilia felt phantom touches of fire crawl up his spine, the product of a fresh, dim witted, solider. They had wanted to ‘strengthen’ the enchantment, but well, actions had consequences~. Lilia smiled as he dove the sword into flesh. Watching the blade be painted a scarlet crimson, like the flames the cadet had unwittingly released. “Hmm~” he hummed, it really was a shame; the fae could have had so much potential. Potential as a foot solider and glorified fodder against the humans, but potential nonetheless.
Complex spells without the proper etiquette were already risky. Prone to blowing up in the caster’s face or failing entirely. Hell, laws had been put into place to prohibit the use of homemade spells. It was not uncommon for one to hear of a ritual gone wrong. Even simple ones, like haphazard substitutes for dinner or love done with faulty renditions of ‘safe’ enchantments, led to rather interesting results.
A new ritual that could possibly change a human into a fae, rewriting their very biology and magic? Used without a proper catalyst? Well that was downright insane. Although one could say insanity was Lilia’s gift.
A sudden storm raged against Diasomnia, Malleus’ anger and despair personified. “The blood-letting ritual would solve all of these problems” he muttered.
Lilia sighed, the ritual would solve most if not all of his problems. The ritual had been specifically designed for converting humans into one of the fairfolk. All the while keeping their original magic and even starting a new bloodline. At the time the ritual was created, cursed with infertility and a declining population, the ritual had been a blessing. It also required the blood sacrifice of a powerful mage, but that was a rather minor detail.
“You do know Kingscholar is the only compatible mage, right~”. Really, Lilia had nothing against killing the prince, but the mixture chaos and politics it would cause… well, he grimaced at the thought.
Malleus apparently did not share his sentiment, “Good, it’s time the beast is put in his place”.
“We both know how that will turn out” Lilia bemoaned “What with the law and surveillance and all that”.
Really it was ridiculous. One powerful human dignitary is lost and everyone blames the fae. Sure, the human had been tortured and drained of blood, yet they had no proof of Briar Valley’s involvement.
if Lilia had congratulated Baul on the successful turning of his son-in-law barely a day later, that was irrelevant. Sebek still didn’t know his father had been turned. With his utter disdain for humans it had been too risky to reveal it to him. Lest he accidentally boast about his father’s new status.
Lilia’s eyes darkened, “This is the end of our discussion Malleus, I will go through with the spell”. He held up a hand as Malleus started to protest “This is final, you may be my lord” he snarled teeth glinting in the dim light “but, I still hold seniority”.
Lilia walked away silently, stalking towards the door. “And remember to not go too far” he said “There will be time for that later~”. He left, closing the grandiose door with a thud “Ta-ta~”.