This Needs A Title So Badly...


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Set in the universe of this ->
If you read everything in that plot AFTER "A Hundred Year, Minute-Long Intermission", you might understand this a bit better. Anyways, I really need a title for this little work in progress, and I was hoping you guys could suggest one.

"What a tragic mess you fools have made of this."

He had watched while the greatest seraph fell. He had watched while their entire world was split in two.

Never interfering, only watching.

And now? Now the Oracle was going to watch a whole new story play out. He was going to watch his prophecy, of oh so many years ago, be fulfilled.

Never interfering, only watching.

What did the prince think he was doing?

Keiran rushed down the streets, fuming with anger. As an esteemed member of the king's court, and a personal friend of Adakias, he felt it only his duty to warn the young noble of his brother's anger. The Light was already beginning to sicken him, but still he pressed on, crow's-wing colored hair falling into his eyes and matching perfectly with his dark skin. Palis's own words to the younger heir had been "if you elope, I'll hunt you down", and it was now perfectly clear that the prince intended to follow through on his statement.

Kei had only gone to find Adakias to warn him of his impending doom, and now he was just in a whole mess of trouble. The king of the Light had apparently put out a bounty on his friend's head, and now he was going double time in order to warn him.

Retching at the bright, too-clear air of the alien realm, the young man hurried along, shooting harried glances at other people on the street and searching for faces he knew. Palis was bound to be around somewhere, and he wasn't in the mood for a confrontation.

In his attempt to be aware of everything at once, Keiran neglected to pay attention of what was immediately in front of him, and crashed headlong into another young man, with sandy brown hair that stuck out everywhere and almost unhealthily pale skin.

“Sorry…sorry!” He apologized to the stranger, who laughed, and accepted the hand that was extended to him.

“Nah,” The strange, tall man replied with a half-grin that highlighted his crooked nose, “happens to me all the time. S’ no problem.” He pulled himself to his feet, running a hand through his hair, which only succeeded in making it stand up more. “M’name’s Eron.”

Eron…Eron…Keiran had heard the name before, but he couldn’t remember where. Snapping his fingers mentally as the memory came to him in a brilliant flash, he felt his stomach sink a very uncomfortable amount. Eron was the princess’s older brother, the very princess that Palis had set out to kill. And Kei would have loved to stay and chat, but it would remind him all the more of the prince that he was supposed to be saving.

“Keiran. Kei.” He replied, attempting a pleasant smile and failing spectacularly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” Coughing softly, he attempted to sidestep the other man.

“Really?” The prince, who he now noted was dressed in commoner’s clothes, loped after him as he started off again down the narrow streets of the kingdom. “What kind of a business?”

Anhura’s supposed favorite brother, Keiran noted dryly, was much like Adakias in his demeanor. He could see now why she had married his friend.

“Making sure Sangara doesn’t get to my friend before I do.” He responded absently, then stopped dead where he stood. He hadn’t meant for that to come out. “I meant-“

“Sangara?” Too late. “The descendant of Toba the Tura himself?” The prince almost floated on air next to him, as Kei continued to mentally slap himself, and spoke Toba the Tura’s name with reverence. “You know Sangara?”

“Yeeeeesssss…” Keiran hissed, clenching his fists and preparing for what came next.

“But that means…” realization dawned on Eron, and he almost visibly dropped down off his cloud of daydreams. “You’re from the Dark, aren’t you?”

“Graduated the School of Dark Arts, top of my class.” He retorted proudly, jamming a thumb into his chest. “Anyway, have you happened to have seen my friend? I believe he eloped with your sister.” A smirk offset this sentence. Kei knew he was already in deep, and he didn’t foresee a chance to get out of it soon, so might as well make the best of it.

“You mean Adakias? I met him two days ago, in my father’s court. He made a pretty good case for himself, I thought, but Malka apparently didn’t.” Eron pronounced the king’s name with bitter distaste; almost the same way many had heard Palis say Adakias’s. “Anyway, he and my sister ran off afterwards. I haven’t seen them since, but I was just going out to look for Anhura.”

The Dark noble almost fainted from relief. So here was someone who was not going to turn him in, but rather help him look! “Mind if I tag along? I don’t exactly know my way around.”

“Not at all.” The taller, rail-thin man replied, eyes shining. “I’ve always wondered about the Dark, to tell you the truth. Adakias promised to tell me more about it if we ever met again.”

Keiran nodded, and they began to walk once more. That did sound like Adakias. “So, where to first?”

“Well,” Eron gave a small, slightly devilish grin, “I was hoping we could maybe go stop off at the palace for a bit. See, I haven’t really told Malka that I’m leaving yet, and…”

The dark-skinned man shrugged, inwardly fuming. This would almost certainly prove a setback to his plans. And what if Palis or Sangara followed them to the palace? What then? On the outside, he smiled cynically. “Sounds good, but what if someone notices, oh, I don’t know, that I’m from the Dark?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be executed for sure, you know.”

“Just be inconspicuous.” Eron advised, shoving his hands into his crudely-sewn pockets. “It always works when I don’t want to be noticed. Be careful, though. The king could sense the Dark in Adakias, so he might sense something in you as well.”

“Sense the Dark? What does that-“And Kei never got to finish that sentence, because he found out exactly what it meant. An uneasy air of Darkness descended upon the once-bright marketplace, and the nails-on-slate grating of steel against the gravel could be heard from a distance away.

Sangara had arrived in the Light.

Eron pressed himself flat against the large, golden doors to the palace, breathing heavily with excitement. Keiran was slumped on the ground next to him, doubled over and panting.

“I’ve never run that hard in my life.” He gasped, staggering to his feet. The prince chuckled, clapping a hand on his companion’s shoulder to help him remain upright.

“When you have five siblings, you learn.” He grinned, wiping sweat off his forehead with an oversized sleeve. Kei opened his mouth for a snappy retort, but was silenced by another voice from the end of the palace’s long main hall.
This voice, gentle with a undertone of regality, came from the man that sat in the magnificent throne that stood there.

“Who enters the house of Malka?” The fair-skinned man was obviously the king. He carried himself regally, and glanced curiously at the two.

“Your son.” Eron called back, a small smile gracing his face. Kei guess that the prince and the king were on better terms then had been previously implied, or they were at least pretending to be.

“Back so soon, Eron?” The king laughed as his eldest son approached the throne, casting his eyes over Keiran while he spoke. “And you’ve brought a guest. I hope this won’t turn into another ‘all we have is love, my king’, like your sister?”

The young man from the Dark snorted with suppressed laughter, and a giggle snuck past Eron’s lips as he grinned widely. “No, sir.”

“Well, then!” King Malka extended a hand to Kei, who shook it heartily. “Nice to meet you…”

“Kei.” The noble filled in, smiling at the king and inwardly hoping that the Darkness within him could not be sensed.

As if he had read his new friend’s mind, the prince straightened and snapped his fingers, frowning slightly. “I almost forgot! Father, Sangara is here from the Dark. He’s looking for Adakias.”

“Oh, as long as he doesn’t lay a hand on any of the royal family, he can go.” The king’s lips had turned downwards a bit, but they soon returned to their former position. “Sangara? Really?” Eron and Keiran nodded simultaneously, and his smile grew even wider. “Maybe we should invite him to the execution today. Then again…”

“Execution?” The two young nobles were in sync yet again, with the same incredulous tone to top things off.

“I thought you told Anhura no more killings!” Eron crossed his arms, looking disappointedly at his father.

“Yes, but she’s hardly going to stop me now.” The king smirked, shifting position coolly in his throne. His son shot a disgusted look at him, and he shrugged. “You’d better be there. You are the heir to my throne.”

“I hate it when you pull this!” Eron actually stamped a foot on the ground, and Kei gazed at him in amazement. So this was what having a spoiled older brother was like. He could sympathize with Adakias a lot more now.

“You’re coming.” Malka’s voice became harsh, and his eyes turned stern. His son sighed, resigned to his fate.

“Come on, Kei. I’ll show you around.” He grabbed the other young man by the arm and began to drag him off to a side hallway. Once they were there, he gave Keiran a large wink, drawing a glittering silver key the hung from a chain out of his pocket with a grin.

Adakias’s best friend sighed. In his home kingdom, he had certainly been in situations like this before, and they had never ended well. “What are we doing with that?”

“Releasing the prisoner, of course.” Eron replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in both halves of the world.

“And why would we want to release a potentially dangerous prisoner?” He shot back, crossing his arms.

“I believe he’s a friend of yours.” The king’s eldest son raised his eyebrows provocatively at him, as if beckoning him to come and find out who it was.

“A friend of mine?” Kei stared unbelievingly, following him down the hallway.

“Well, we only execute people from the Dark, so he’s obviously going to at least be someone you’ve heard of.” Eron shrugged, walking backwards down the dark hallway until he reached the one occupied cell all the way at the end of it.

A man, who looked to be only a few years older than the prince himself, was huddled there, muttering to himself. When he looked up at them, the two nobles flinched at the exact same moment. His eyes were the most curious thing they had ever seen, red irises ringed by whites that were, ironically, pitch black. The man’s hair, the same black as his eyes, covered the left side of his face, giving him a sinister, shadowed look.

“What do you want?” He raised an eyebrow that had been pierced multiple times. The purple tattoos under his visible eye almost seemed to glow in the limited light of his cell.

“We’re helping you.” Eron grumbled, obviously not happy at the lack of gratitude the man was showing as he unlocked the cell. The man smirked, stretching like a cat, and pushed the door open easily.

“You’re the prince, aren’t you? And you,” He turned to Keiran, crossing his arms, “I know you. You’re one of Adakias’s friends.”

The dark-skinned man nodded, running a nervous hand through his hair. “I’m Kei. Please don’t ask what I’m doing here. I don’t think I really know either.”

The strange prisoner laughed. “I’m Niabi. And if you’re looking for the prince, that makes you a friend of mine. He’s going to get what he deserves.”

Keiran and Eron exchanged an uneasy look, but neither spoke against him.

“So, what’s with…” the heir to Malka’s throne didn’t finish the sentence, but lapsed into unsure gestures at Niabi’s face.

“My eyes?” he laughed. “It’s a long story, but let me fill in some of the blanks for you. Have you ever heard the story of the Spider and the Lamps?”

Both young men nodded slowly, but the connection formed in Kei’s mind first.

“But tha-that’s impossible! It’s a myth!” He stammered, backing up a step and almost tripping over his own uncoordinated feet.

The prisoner shook his head, grinning. “I’m afraid to say it was no myth, my friend. I am indeed a descendent of Barayas the Spider.”

“That’s amazing!” Eron blurted in awe, walking around the other man as if analyzing him.

“Sure.” The man readily agreed, shrugging. “Now, what say we get out of here, huh?”

“Alright.” The prince consented, shooting a nervous look at Kei before speaking. The trio loped off down a side hallway, shooting anxious glances around for the king or any of his loyal subjects.

Suddenly, the clicking of heels on the stone floor reached their ears. Eron drew a sharp intake of breath, motioning for the other two to duck into the shadows as a woman appeared. Wildly curly black hair fell to her shoulders, and she looked quite business-like, carrying a stack of papers with a writing instrument tucked behind her ear.

“Prince.” She greeted him shortly, giving a contemptuous glare. It was clear that the woman held no respect for him.

“Niah. Aren’t you supposed to be at the execution?” He spat back at her, clearly not pleased with her presence.

“Your father sent me to find you.”

“Of course he did. Well, I’m not going.” The young heir sneered at her reply, taking a step backwards.

“Fine.” The king’s aide turned on her heel and clicked back the way she had come, hips swinging haughtily.

“Now what?” Keiran raised an eyebrow questioningly, melting out of the shadows with Niabi by his side.

“Now we run.” Eron’s face broke into a reckless grin.

Questions, comments, and suggestions would be really nice.


Анна Ахматова
You're not a bad writer. You know how to tell a story. I don't like the way you present it, but that's my own opinion.

And now? Now the Oracle was going to watch a whole new story play out. He was going to watch his prophecy, of oh so many years ago, be fulfilled.

Never interfering, only watching.
This is a very weak beginning. I suggest you be more dynamic. Create a mood and setting. Write some foreshadowing instead of pulling a kurtvonnegut (telling the reader what he or she is about to read).

Palis's own words to the younger heir had been: "If you elope, I'll hunt you down." It was now perfectly clear that the prince intended to follow through on his statement.
Kei had only gone to find Adakias to warn him of his impending doom, and now he was just in a whole mess of trouble. The king of the Light had apparently put out a bounty on his friend's head, and now he was going double time in order to warn him.
The terminology you used here is a bit silly. Try using a thesaurus to effectively describe the scenes you're actually witnessing. I always see writing as a journalist job.

Retching at the bright, too-clear air of the alien realm, the young man hurried along, shooting harried glances at other people on the street and searching for faces he knew. Palis was bound to be around somewhere, and he wasn't in the mood for a confrontation.
What's going on? He's vomiting into "the bright"? What about an alien realm... *reads back* ... Describe your scenes better by explaining why your character is sick from the light. A lot of authors do this, and I don't know why. It doesn't do much for me. They just make me want to stop reading.
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