30. Karul

"Darling Karul!" a voice lilts through the air, as sickly sweet as venom laced with honey. "You"re looking absolutely dashing tonight!"

Oh, for fucks sake, anyone but her.

I turn to Lady Sylthia, her gown an elaborate confection of silk and lies. Her breasts heave, threatening to pop out of her dress at any given breath. "One must dress the part when attending the comedy of the court," I reply.

"Indeed," she titters, fluttering her fan. I know she does not have the wit to understand.

I have no idea why I agreed to come here tonight. Already, my skin is crawling at his very presence.

I look at him, my father. Surrounded by his circle of ass-licking advisors, he"s the picture of regal authority. I long for all this to burn and hope I am the one that strikes the match.

"Your father seems in high spirits tonight, Karul?" Sylthia says.

"He does," I say through a forced smile.

"Such a powerful elf. When I think about how powerful he is, it makes me go weak at the knees," she says. Her very presence makes me go weak elsewhere.

"I'm sure it does," I reply.

"You remind me of your Father, do you know that?" She says.

"Thank you for bringing that thought across my mind," I grin at her. Her breasts begin to heave at an alarming rate.

"Forgive me, I do get carried away at parties. I do like to dance Karul. Do you like to dance?" she asks with a flutter of her eyelids.

My patience has run thin too quickly this evening, "My dear Sylthia, as much as you would desire me to dance you into the gardens, bend you beneath a statute of the Hedonist, and plow you until you pass out, I really must refrain," I tell her watching her checks turn a deep pink.

She coughs and catches her breath, "Maybe our paths will cross later?" she says.

"Maybe," I tell her with my focus firmly on my Father. I barely notice her scuttle away, flicking her fan as she goes.

My eyes are drawn to the monster still.

I watch as he laughs at something one of his lackeys whispers. His eyes flicker over the crowd. My hand clenches at my side, the only outward sign of the storm raging within.

I am Karul, son of an idiot lord and no man"s pawn. And I need a drink.

"Another," I command the human servant who tends the bar. A silly-looking fellow with a chin too large for his face. I knock it back in one.

"Another," I demand. And knock it back further still.

"Your health, Karul," a noble sneers as he passes, his toast dripping with insincerity.

I raise my glass and smile like I have been taught to do.

"To the end of all things," I mutter under my breath.

Perhaps now is the time.

I deserve my revenge for what he has done. He thinks so little of me he wouldn't notice me creep beneath his feet and set my vision in motion. The pillars of my father"s legacy crumbling around his feet.

"Karul, my fellow!" I know the voice. It's Astor, one of those dickheads you meet at university you hoped would die before you had the chance to bump into them ever again.

"Astor, how goes it?" I ask with no time for how little these elves stay the same, locked in time, just getting fatter and more prosperous.

He pats his belly, "I'd say rather good, wouldn't you?" he coughs as he laughs, grabbing my hand and forcing me to pat the mound of greed attached to his front.

"When's it due?" I ask him. Which, of course, he finds hideously funny. I look disgusted as the snot escapes his nose and splashes to the floor.

"Funny as ever, Karul," he says, "I'll give you that, always the joker you were."

The fucking joker?

"You must stop by sometime, but in the meantime, I must mingle, Father's orders," I tell him.

"Course, course, he's an important man. It must be hard being chalk to his cheese?"

That cuts deep. "Sorry?"

"Such a brilliant and respected lord, it must be hard following in such footsteps without the, ah, necessary facilities?" he seems to have enjoyed saying that.

Keep your temper, Karul, he's not worth it.

"I always remember that night we all went to that ball. Remember, the girls from Lady Salva's were there as well." I say.

"Oh yes, how could I forget? That's where I met my…"

I cut him in his tracks, "There was this girl, Julia. I think her name was, to be honest, I can't really recall. I was too busy fucking her to ask her name," I let out a loud false laugh and watch his face drop with delight.

"My wife? Julia, that was the night we met." he shutters.

"Me too," I say, leaving him to his bloated belly and newly broken ego.

I move from the bar and settle amongst the rest, leaning against a marble pillar. My ears scan their conversations until I find one that might take my fancy.

"Oh, him, I hear he likes it in ladies" underwear," a voice exclaims.

They all, of course, laugh.

"Oh, I have one. Did you hear about Loras?" A voice adds. "He is no less than a miou, falling for a human woman, can you imagine?"

My ears prick up at the mention of a miou, warriors esteemed almost as much as they are feared. I edge closer. My movements are silent, a predator among sheep.

"Preposterous," other noble scoffs. "Purchasing a human is one thing, but to fall in love? It"s beneath us, beneath an elf."

Their disgust is palpable, a foul taste on the tongue, yet it plants a seed in my mind.

I turn away, allowing the notion to simmer within me. My father has consistently underestimated the power of emotion and the chaos it can sow. Perhaps it"s time he learned just how devastating it can be when harnessed by the right hands—my hands.

The crystal chandelier above casts a constellation of light across the polished marble floor. With each step, I take an echo in the grand hall. The nobles around me are nothing more than stars already dead, their light hollow and fading. Another sip of strong liquor burns its way down my throat as I let their laughter disappear into the background.

"You boy," a drunk voice slurs near me, "you look like someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders."

"You look like someone who should be asleep in bed," I reply.

"And indeed, I should, but I can't find a single soul to lead me to it," he laughs.

"I can call you a human. They have added benefits. You can slit their throat as they read you a bedtime story," I say.

"Ah, humans, I once loved one, you know," he drunkenly confesses.

"Really?" I say, intrigued.

"She was the most beautiful creature I have ever set eyes on. In fact, every time I close my eyes, I see her. It's only when I open them that she disappears. It's only when I have my eyes open that I need a drink to help me close them again." he says as tears swell in his eyes.

I have never heard an elf speak in such a way about a human. He must be mad, like that miou.

This is all too much of a coincidence. There are forces at play. Guiding my way.

"You see, my boy, we elves may think we know everything and control everything, but I have a secret for you. The one thing we do not fear can turn us to dust. Look at me. I was once a powerful and most cunning elf. How, you may ask, did I become such a feeble being? A human did this to me."

It hits me like a hammer to the head. Can I harness this power that has wrecked this dark elf?

I reach over and touch his shoulder, "Get you safe to bed and dream."

"Wise words, my boy. To dream is to live," he tells me as he staggers away.

And the rush of potential courses through my veins, a heady mix of anticipation and malice. Humans, pitiful creatures, though they may be, have an uncanny knack for survival. That tenacity could be harnessed, twisted to serve my ends. A human who could get close to my father earn his trust, only to betray him when he least expects it. That is just one delicious thought.

There will be more such thoughts to come.

The room spins around me, not from the liquor this time but from the intoxicating allure of my forming plan. I need a human, yes, but not just any will do. They must be cunning yet broken, strong yet vulnerable—the perfect vessel for my vengeance. I can already envision the chaos they will sow, the seeds of distrust they will plant.

Tonight, I am no mere spectator at this insipid ball. Tonight, I am the architect of destinies, the sculptor of fates. My father"s foolish dismissal of me shall be his undoing—for I am not the na?ve boy he believes me to be. No, I am his shadow, the embodiment of his greatest fears.

My resolve is iron; it courses through me like a thousand storms. My hunger for revenge blazes within, a beacon that refuses to be extinguished. He has underestimated me for the last time.

"Let them play out their game," I murmur to myself, feeling the weight of my destiny bearing down upon me. "For I am about to play a far grander one."

And with that final, silent vow, I turn from the revelry, my senses honed, my mind razor-sharp. The night is young, and my fun has only just begun. Let them laugh and dance in their ignorance. For soon, it will all come tumbling down, and I will stand triumphant amid the ruins.