Chapter Text
There was an empty feeling in the pit of Vincit’s stomach as soon as his friend’s spirit left. He could no longer feel the presence of the Lost Child, and once again, the joyous was alone.
The soft Eden wind rustled his hair as he stared out over the land, clutching the dead king’s crown. What would happen to the island without a leader? Would an authority take it over, keep it just as unfair as it had been under the previous king? Questions filled the young boy’s mind, buzzing around like an angry hive.
More than anything else, however, one thought stood out.
Where was the safest place to sleep?
Vincit adjusted his mask to rub his eyes. It had been ages since he’d had a good sleep. Was it the heretic safehouse where he had slept last? If it was, that had been a long time ago now. The young joyous yawned. Perhaps it would be best to find a good spot to rest for now.
He wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the castle. For a few moments, he could have sworn he saw silhouettes, or heard soft whispers around him, but as soon as he looked around, they stopped. Against his better judgement, he continued onwards.
The small room he found was tucked away, most likely a room for whatever housekeeper was employed here. It was thankfully empty, and though it was far from lavish like some of the other rooms in the castle, the bed was comfortable, and as soon as Vincit settled under the covers his muscles relaxed.
The boy curled in on himself, blankets wrapped around him like a cocoon. It hardly took long before his sore eyes drifted shut, and he fell asleep.
For once, Vincit dreamed of nothing. No visitation from the Lost Child, no planning in his sleep. It was just pure, serene silence. He loved it.
Until the whispering began again.
“Is this him? Our Joyous?”
“Hush now, Silviya. He is sleeping.”
“What is he holding?”
“The crown. He has accomplished what none of us could.”
“But he is just a boy.”
Vincit awoke quite some time later. The joyous blinked his eyes open, stretching his arms as he adjusted to the morning light filtering through the window. As he was about to get up, he stopped, freezing in place. He was not alone in this room.
“Fear not, Vincit. We know each other. I will not harm you.”
The boy turned to face the other, and was met with the face of the hunter. The man who had tried to take his face. He instinctively clutched the crown tighter in his arms, eyes widening in a panicked state.
The hunter put his hands up. “Calm yourself. I know I have much to explain.”
“Have you come to take my smile?” Vincit mumbled hoarsely. Was the Lost Child here? That was his only form of protection. He felt so alone.
“No. I give you my word.”
That did make him feel a bit better, though he still felt that he couldn’t trust the deer creature. Vincit sat upright again, still eyeing the older man distrustfully. The hunter lowered his hands.
“My name is Lasciva,” he began slowly. “My family comes from Riverager. On the night that I met you, Vincit, I was traveling to fetch medicine for my mother. I was… ambushed, you might say. By a creature some call the Faceless.”
The young goat's eyes widened in recognition. The Faceless… that was the creature that had been terrorizing him throughout his journey.
“I'm afraid on our last night together, I wasn't quite myself. That thing… it did something to my mind. It felt as though I was watching somebody else control my body.” Lasciva sighed, brushing his fingers through his locs. “I am very sorry if I hurt you, Vincit.”
Should… should he trust the man? Vincit was quite conflicted. For all he knew, Lasciva could be lying to gain his trust. But… oh, he was so lonely. He missed the camaraderie that the hunter's presence brought.
Slowly, Vincit stood, getting up from the old bed. He reached out a hand hesitantly. This could very well be his end, but he wanted so badly to trust the man.
Lasciva took his hand and gave it a warm shake.
The joyous's face broke out into a beaming smile. For once, a genuine one. Not the one he wore on the mask. Without thinking, he rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Lasciva in a hug. He could feel the deer stiffen for a moment before returning the hug. It was warm, and comforting. Like Vincit's old friend's hugs used to be.
After a moment, Lasciva broke away, giving Vincit a soft smile. “The others are dying to speak with you.”
“The others?” Vincit straightened up a bit, tilting his head in confusion.
The hunter nodded, taking Vincit's hand.
The two pushed through the door, out into the corridor where he had found the small room. He was met with a crowd of faces. All of them were authorities.
“...Our king.”