Chapter Text
Saying that Card Kingdom was harsh to its performers would be an understatement. The king was rather picky with his jesters. None could be underwhelming, and none could overshadow his majesty. It was a difficult line to tiptoe, and the many who fell ended up forgotten to time, but the few who succeeded were rewarded with wealth and fame that most could only dream of. It was simply a fact of this world. Card Kingdom was harsh to its failures and held its prized few on a pedestal.
Of course, that didn’t dissuade some. Some even took it as a challenge, or, in the case of a few foolish children, a way to spice up their games of truth or dare. It was always innocent enough. Some teenagers trying their luck at fame and fortune to skip a day of school, usually. But the king was not a lenient one. They had shown up at his doorstep to amuse him, and so they were to amuse him, and if they failed they would be punished accordingly. Unfortunately, the king’s idea of a sound punishment was often death. And what kind of king got his own hands dirty with the blood of those killed? Not the King, that was for sure.
That was where his servants came in.
Seam didn’t like all of the death. In their eyes it was pointless. Why kill someone when you could just leave them to their own devices? But the king told them to, and who were they to argue? All that they could do was make it a painless death. Quick? Rarely. The king loved to watch his subjects sob and shriek as they fell to Seam’s magic, begging to say goodbye to their families and friends. Seam could only assume that he got some kind of sick pleasure from the fear he incited.
That was what Seam was doing here today. Execution. Murder. Punishment. Whatever you wanted to call it. It was the same reason they were there everyday. ‘Court Mage’ was the job that had been assigned to them. ‘Court Executioner’ seemed more accurate. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d used their magic for anything but dirtying their paws with blood spilt far too soon. And this was no exception. At least with some of the older darkners, they were nearing their time anyway, and it was often a choice made with the intention of death, so that their families wouldn’t have to watch them succumb to their old age. But children, especially children like the one shoved forcefully to Seam’s feet, shivering and crying, were different.
The king sat at his throne, grinning with both grotesque mouths. Oh, how Seam wished that he wasn’t there. Then he would at least be able to make it quick. But as long as he lounged, Seam would have to kill.
And they did.
And the air felt heavy with the weight of screams.
For a moment, Seam almost thought that the screams were that of pain, that the grip on their magic had faltered, but wouldn’t you also scream if you were dying? Wouldn’t you beg and plead and shout for help and mercy, calling out for someone you hope never hears, never comes running, never watches you writhe as the life leaves your eyes and leaves you a twitching, cold mess on the floor? Wouldn’t you also beg for your killer to stop, not knowing that doing so would mean death for your executioner as well?
By the time the screaming stopped they could barely hear. They wished that they never could in the first place.
The king stood up from his seat on the throne, a slow, awkward movement, aided by the strange ‘Rouxls Kaard’ who acted as his second in command, and stumbled over to them, placing a meaty, sweaty hand on the fur covering their shoulders.
“Good job.” Those words alone made their stomach sink and their mouth fill with saliva. Good job? For murdering a child in cold blood? “Wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
Seam forced themself to make eye contact. There was no change in the king’s wart-covered expression, but then again, he watched the murder every day, didn’t he? It was nothing new. Nothing to be horrified or excited over.
They forced a laugh. “Thank you, your majesty.”
Usually, the king would leave it at that and shoo them away, insisting that they were no longer needed, only to be called back within the hour to kill another innocent victim, or clean up the mess left by a particularly determined victim, but this time, he didn’t. This time, he showed off a toothy yellow grin, staring at Seam with an intent that they couldn’t decipher. One that they hadn’t seen in decades.
“Rouxls, bring in the child.”
Rouxls straightened and nodded, marching out of the room with an air of authority and terror. Seam tensed. Another child? Why hadn’t they just been brought in together! What kind of sick execution plans did the king have for this child that were so important that they had to be executed separately?
They didn’t have enough time to ponder any further, as Rouxls tramped back into the throne room, hand gripped tightly around the dull blue-purple fur of a darkner’s wrist.
The king grinned at Seam, a kind of sick excitement in his eyes.
“Seam, meet Jevil. He passed the test.”