Chapter Text
Magic had always ruled in the country of Sunset Savanna, however, the entire Twisted Wonderland continent based itself on exploiting every means of it. Most people born in magic wielding families were blessed with fortune, fame and power within the wretched system they referred to as government. Those magic blessed people were often seen using mage stones which they held onto carefully in the form of a pen. Each renowned family chose their own colour; crimson red, navy blue, baby purple, golden yellow; the colour of wheat, the colour of dawn, the colour of prosperity. Kingscholar was the name of the mage family known as the best and most acclaimed surgeons in the continent.
The Kingscholar’s artistry was beyond any casual medical staff at that time. They were skilled with the scalpel and with the mind. Their pride laid within the clever surgery patterns, their unique carefully crafted stitching or perhaps their years of dominating the field. Undoubtedly also because they were the only beastman family to have paved the way in the medical industry despite the limited knowledge and technology they had available.
Currently, Falena, the family’s firstborn son, was in training to become the head of the family estate. As the tradition went, the oldest son of the family must continue its legacy, leading the family towards further success. He was blessed in every way - tall, charismatic, skilled, kind hearted, intelligent. He was known to often perform surgeries for no pennies, especially for certain areas in the slums. His policy was that every life counted, money should not hold a proper surgeon back from saving it.
Bullshit. Leona knew what he was actually chasing, it was clear as day. Falena’s benevolent persona was an excuse to use slum residents as subjects of his theories. Sure, he saved as many lives as he could, however those who were considered ‘on the brink of death’ he would use to his advantage. It made Leona furrow his eyebrows each time the poor, kind hearted, Dr. Falena would be spotted profoundly apologising to a freshly orphaned child about the ‘strange circumstances’ of their parents' passing.
“My sincerest apologies, kind soul. I could not save them.” was the poor excuse of an apology Dr. Falena frequently spoke. Leona knew that his older brother did not mean it; however that was not inherently what upset the younger one. Leona could do better. He knew that if he focused, he could bring back the dead. But why should he? He had nothing to gain from doing anything out of the ordinary. His fate was sealed before he even knew what fate meant. Being born the second son of the family meant his duty in life was to be a spare pair of hands working to ensure the continuation of the bloodline, or to bring more eyes and signatures to their name. The lion boy was not about to try changing his planned out fate.
In time, his retired father was going to send him off as a trophy to another family, marrying into them; or worse, he could be ostracised in another country, left alone in a clinic of his own, all to please his family and be useful.
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9th September, 1876
The morning sun had passed over the curtained windows of the lion boy’s room. After graduating from his surgeon apprenticeship, Leona refused to work on anything related to medicine; his brother should do it if he is so capable of it. Why would there be a need for him if Falena was the chosen one already? Even after 3 months, most of Leona’s time was spent sleeping his life away. If it wasn’t for the ancient magic books he often bought from local markets, he would be sleeping in different parts of the family estate or attempting stargazing on nights he felt particularly gloomy on.
Having no purpose of his own, no path he desires to walk towards, he was a simple vessel. At least in his dreams he was a skilled surgeon. In his dreams, his parents looked at him with different eyes, and there were no servants whispering about his unenchantable attitude. He was free of the misery.
Leona's emerald eyes shot wide, the door of his bedroom startled him awake. After an unexpected incident, one of his eyes, the left one, was left permanently scarred, yet still functional.
“Leona! How dare?” spoke his father. The old man’s eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes glaring at the messy lion who seemed to finally realise the world he lived in.
“What a pain. What's with the urgency? Need an extra pair of—“
“Quit the remarks! How dare you not show up to your brother’s first apprentice ceremony?” the old man cut off. Leona remained silent, his expression mimicking his fathers’. He tried to scoff, his tail flicking against the bed sheets.
“Do you understand what the journalists will say about our name, boy? Have you once in your lifetime considered doing anything but laze around at your disposal? To not attend Falena’s ceremony is blasphemous! You were instructed about the importance of this event and yet you—” Mr. Kingscholar's voice was loud, it was ringing in Leona's lowered ears. “I have given you every opportunity to find yourself a path, and for once I ask of your presence and you reward me with NOTHING!”
Twice this time, Leona averted his eyes. He simply laid on his bed, motionless, somewhat thankful his bangs covered his expression. Maybe this way his father could not see the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He had much to say, he wanted to tell him everything he felt; the pain, the disappointment, his urgency for validation from him. He wanted to open his mouth and say it but he had no ground to stand on.
Noticing his son’s body language, the elder lion stopped himself from digging a knife in the wound. A simple sigh would escape his lips, trying to ground himself before speaking more ill nonsense.
“Dress up, go salute his new boy. Do not be late again, otherwise the consequences may be dire.” were the last words the man spoke before exiting the room, not even acknowledging any response Leona might have had to his previous words.
He was right, Leona thought. It didn't make it any less painful, though. If those words were his truth and what he felt for Leona, then he was as good as disowned. What a pain.
---
Whatever was left of the small yet important ceremony finished up before midnight struck. This time Leona's tie was properly wrapped around his neck—something he despised doing, it felt too restrictive—and his suit was properly secured with the family’s emblem. He hated being at the meeting, it was full of rich snobby researchers who bought their way to fame with plagiarism and body theft. It disgusted Leona to even make small talk with those magicless herbivores.
Ever since the one sided conversation with his father, Leona's eyes were lowered. He felt like a scolded pup, pathetic. But despite the beginning of the day being foul, he was curious of Falena’s new apprentice. Due to him sleeping in, he missed the introduction of this boy. Allegedly he was a wolf beastman, a magicborn that Falena seemed to have taken an interest in and adopted him under his wing. Leona knew his intention was to uplift beastmen magic and his respect for the cause was raised.
The group was told the apprentice had to abandon the midnight dinner due to ‘an urgent matter’. In the world of the fraudulent doctors there was no actual urgent matter. The boy was young, though, possibly with minimal skill, and Leona was quite intrigued by whatever this boy had to defend himself with. After Leona thought it through, he realised that the boy might have been intelligent about it—leaving a boring midnight dinner might have been the smartest idea.
“He urged me to not mention it, but his schedule required him to go and rest early in the night.” Falena leaned towards his baby brother, reading his thoughts like an open book. This brought a small light in Leona’s eyes. What on earth does that mean?
“Yer tellin’ me he dug his reputation into a hole just to catch on some sleep?” his laugh escaped his lips involuntarily, his features became softer, his jaw unclenched in a small chuckle, showing off his fangs.
“He reminds me of you,” Falena teased.
“You’re not gettin’ an apology.” Leona frowned immediately afterwards, picking up a slice of his meat, attempting to at least try the food.
“One grumpy cub you are, I was simply making an observation,” Falena smirked, knowing how to push Leona's buttons. Leona’s ears and tail gave away more than he thought. After hearing his brother’s teasing, the lion boy’s ears dropped again, and an annoyed pout made its appearance on his countenance.
“Why did you pick this goody two shoes? Bribery?” Leona bit back, not letting his brother get the last word.
“Does it concern you?” Falena laughed, nudging Leona, hoping to loosen him a little. The older one had a feeling that his father may have gone further than anticipated with his anger. Part of him was upset at Leona’s carelessness, but he couldn’t help but pity his brother. Despite his rich position within the family, some of him understood it to some extent.
“No,” he paused, giving Falena a stink eye before groaning, “So loud… Ugh.” He was finished with his meal. After the encounter with his father, his appetite refused to cooperate.
“He was promising. He is a beastman, and as you know, our kind would benefit well from further coverage,” Falena continued, noticing his brother’s eyes scanning the rest of the table. He could tell his mind was restless.The lack of effort in Leona's sarcastic remarks, his lowered ears, his plate full of well prepared meat - the lion boy was distressed.
“Didn't say I was interested,” he grumbled.
“He doesn’t mean it.” The older lion’s voice dropped, leaning towards his younger brother. Falena’s hand made it towards Leona’s shoulder, trying to show a little affection for the agitated lion.
“Keep your paws far, I ain't interested in family group hugs,” Leona mumbled, however his eyebrows softened a little. Unconsciously, a breath he kept in escaped his lips in a sigh, letting out a little of the burden. Sometimes Falena’s ability to forgive people easily left Leona speechless.
“Leona,” Falena said firmly, looking at him directly.
“Yeah, as you say,” he mumbled, getting up from the table. Leona knew Falena well. He was pitying him and he was not having it. He was not the one he needed comfort from.
A loud cough could be heard from the other side of the dinner table, loud enough to startle all eyes towards it. Mr. Kingscholar’s condition seemed to have worsened for a brief moment. A thought came through Leona's mind. Could it be because of him? His father must still be upset over the argument, perhaps his stress was worsening his condition.
A few servants gathered around the man, helping him stand on his two feet, stopping his coughing. The medical servants provided him with laudanum before escorting him to his chambers.
The corner of Leona's eyes dropped, his eyebrows shifting into a melancholic frown, his eyes lowering towards the untouched plate of food. He knew that many times his pride would stop him from acknowledging his mistakes. He was a stubborn and proud lion, and while he truly believed he wasn’t wrong, it did not hurt to pay his old man a visit.
“Tch… what a pain,” He mumbled picking the plate up and following the servants, letting Falena lead the dinner.
“Who goes there?” a weak sounding voice could be heard from inside the Kingscholar bedroom. On the bed laid a frail elderly man, leaning against a multitude of yellow embroidered pillows, silken blankets and a plethora of medicine bottles.
“Relax, old man.” Leona entered his room, making sure to close the door behind him. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, abandoning Falena all by himself once more could possibly end with him lecturing the rest about his newest invention. Thinking about it, that would be hilarious to hear about.
“Leona, you know you must be with the rest of the guests. What have we—“
“I said relax. Passin’ out and making a grandiose exit isn’t like you, father,” he mumbled, putting the plate full of meat he borrowed from the dinner table “Eat.”
“Leona…” the old man sighed, lowering his head. His troublesome younger son… how he loved the boy. A little smile appeared on his face, the pain of his anger dissipating. That was his son’s way of acknowledging his mistakes. A wordless apology spoken through actions.
“You need strength, you’re not in your prime anymore, y'know that, don’t you?” Leona tried to keep his exterior collected. If he acknowledged the rotting disease inside his father he might begin to crumble, no King’s Roar needed.
“Thank you, son.” He raised his hand towards the lion boy, patting his forearm as acknowledgement. “I was too harsh.” The old man’s soft yet calloused fingers gave the other a gentle squeeze.
“You were correct.” Leona cut him off again. This old man can croak at any time, so might as well give him the pleasure of being right once. What was Leona even thinking of, at that point not even his sarcasm could convince him the situation was less grim.
“You have to understand, my boy. We are losing our name. Ever since the Draconia family’s only heir entered the surgeon business, we are getting less cases by the day.” His father spoke in a concerned tone, looking down at the plate of food in front of him, almost afraid to touch it. “All our hands must work together to keep our name. That also means I have to be rather crude at times.”
“So? You think I can't win against a ruffian like the Draconia son?” Leona spat out, almost offended. Mr. Kingscholar remained silent. His eyes turned towards the window. It was night outside, pitch black except the stars blinking faintly though the night clouds. His body was slowly weakening, he knew he had little time left.
“Leona… his methods are beyond our capacity. You are a capable young man, I don't doubt your value.” he paused, exhaling painfully. “If only you joined forces with Falena, we could stand against them."
“So being Falena’s lackey is the only saving grace of this family?” he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His tail began to wag again, signaling his annoyance at the remark.
“The odds are against us. Modern prodigies like Malleus Draconia are on the uprising, we ought soon be good for naught.” The tone of his father’s voice was fainting; a few painful coughs escaping his lungs.
“Right.” Leona's eyes glimmered, his pupils shrinking, his eyes furrowing to the point he formed new wrinkles. His gloved fists curled up in a ball, his tail swinging angrily from side to side at a faster rate. It made him sick to his stomach the way his father, a man he admired, was becoming nothing but a coward.
“I’m sorry, boy.” His father noticed his tense figure, raising his hand again to pat his son’s arm, in hopes he could soothe his rage.
An exasperated final sigh coming from Leona finished their conversation. He would turn his back at his father, leaning his head against the palm of his hand, exiting his chamber. Leona’s head was hurting, this day kept getting sour affecting even his desire to rest. The thoughts of being just another hand Falena could use sickened him, along the image of his father giving up to a faceless acclaimed prodigy was churning at his own pride.
There was no other place for him inside the manor. He found himself visiting the gardens, laying on his usual bench. Right now it was him and the stars, the remnants of the past, they were timeless and beautiful. When he was young, Leona wished to be a star, he wanted to shine his light like them; though, not so much recently.
In the swarm of thoughts the lion boy had, one kept creeping up, it made him uneasy. He sat up, looking down at his gloved hands. He had the skill, he had the knowledge; he had the means to restore their family name and take Falena’s title.
“I'll show them. These dumb herbivores couldn’t understand talent if it hit them in the face.” A smirk made its way on the lion boy’s countenance, his chest inflating with a deep inhale. His eyes shone with the spark of life, one which had been absent in his emerald eyes for a decade. It filled him with pride. He would do it, he would prove them that they couldn’t dare take the Kingscholar name for a joke. He would conquer death.