Fantasy, Prologue. Any and all critique welcome. Also, please let me know what tone this is giving please!
Prologue
The withered grandfather clock chimed precisely 8 o’clock as Jaques’ fist tapped against the aged wooden door. Not a second too early, not a second too late. Time is chaos, Father always says, precision makes it obey.
The study door groaned as it opened, pale lantern light spilling into the whitewashed hall. Inside the air smelled faintly of polished stone and a bitter herb that seemed to cling to everything in this castle. It was immaculate to the point of suffocation- white walls, white shelves, white carpet underfoot.
The few objects allowed on display were muted to pastels or dulled to silver, because color itself had been declared a crime.
Precision doesn’t seek truth; it seeks control. That was one of the few little wisdoms Father bestowed only on Jaques, and not the rest of the Dons.
Father sat waiting behind his desk, spine straight, hands folded. His silver hair was drawn into a smooth tail at the nape of his neck. He was smiling, ever the charismatic leader.
“Father,” Jaques greeted, bowing low. His voice was soft but certain. “You summoned me?”
Father gestured gracefully toward the chair opposite his desk. “Sit.”
Jaques obeyed at once. Whatever Father wanted, he received. He was ruler by blood, by right of course.
“I heard we might be traveling to Arielle again,” Jaques pressed, keeping his tone casual, though his eyes searched the older man’s face for meaning. “Is that why you summoned me?”
Father’s smile did not waver, but his fingers tapped idly against the armrest. A faint hiss rose where skin met the painted oak desk- acid creating faint trails into the finish.
He said nothing.
A second knock came at the door. Father’s smile tightened, the air thickening with expectation.
“Perfect,” he murmured, standing. The massive door groaned open. Jaques didn’t have to look up to know who it was, only one Don was bold enough to show up late to Father’s summon.
Carios entered, as dark as the room was pale. His hair- long, near-black waves- fell to his cheekbones, his violet eyes flickering manacingly beneath the lanterns. He was broad-shouldered, sharp-boned, carrying himself with an indifference that bordered on disdain. Carios only offered a faint nod before striding to the empty chair.
They did not greet each other. Jaques’s posture was smooth, still, carefully casual. Carios was rigid, waiting. They were both bound by the same master, but that didn’t mean they could be bonded- or that they would ever be considered similar.
Father resumed his seat at the head of the desk, folding his long fingers.
“To answer your question, Jaques- yes. This is about Arielle.”
Jaques leaned forward slightly, the flicker of unease hidden in his eyes. “We’ve been many times before. You never say why.”
“Have faith in me, as I have faith in you. You will know when you must,” Father said simply. As if it were the answer to everything.
Carios’s gaze shifted, but he remained silent. The lantern flame at Father’s shoulder shivered, then bent sideways as if pulled by invisible strings. Carios didn’t look at it- he never did when he used his gift- but the flame obediently stretched toward him until it licked at the base of the wick and guttered out. Darkness swallowed the far corner of the study.
Jaques didn’t so much as blink. He was accustomed to Carios’s shows of force, just as he was accustomed to Father’s refusal to answer plainly. “Then why Tuculla?” he asked, tone careful.
At that, Father’s smile shifted. He didn’t like that Jaques already knew where they were heading almost as much as he despised being questioned.
Carios’ head tilted, surprise flickering for a beat.
So he didn’t know either.
“Do you no longer trust my judgement?” Father placed one hand flat on the desk, and the white wood hissed beneath his touch. A slow trail of smoke curled upward, acrid and metallic. Neither boy looked away.
Neither responded. That wasn’t the kind of thing they could respond to without meeting his other, far less charismatic side.
“In two nights’ time, we leave.” Father said after a very long pause, “Understood?”
The room was silent. The air smelled of rot and polish. Jaques inclined his head in wordless acceptance. Carios’s violet eyes burned against the pale world around him, unblinking, unreadable. He, eventually, nodded too.
Father leaned back, that eternal smile carving deeper into his face. “Everything is in place. You may rest.”
Jaques left immediately, lingering outside when he realized Carios hadn’t followed. Something was off. Carios wouldn’t stay behind and question father the way Jaques did… usually.
“Something wrong, Carios?” Father’s voice was surprisingly kind.
There was a long pause.
“No, sir. It’s just… Could you tell me anything about what we’re looking for? You know that we have a better chance if I know what we’re after.”
There was a light tapping on the desk. Father sighed.
“I can’t tell you everything… but we’re looking for something extraordinary. Something like us.”
“A person?” Carios asked. Something about his tone made Jaques wonder if Carios knew more than Father this time. If anyone could pull off such a feat it would be him.
Still, it made Jaques wonder what game was being played here, and how he seemed to be the only one behind.
“Maybe. I’m not sure yet. Now go.” Father’s voice came again. Carios was lucky Father didn’t hear what Jaques had.
Jaques didn’t have time to move. Carios came out of the door right away, giving him an annoyed look before moving on past him, their shoulders brushing as he blew past.
All the same.
Jaques and Carios were meant to be at each other's throats, after all. Father made sure of that.