Chapter Text
How did it come to be like this? Michael thought desperately as he split from Gavin, the half-Creeper blending immediately with the surroundings, giving both men the chance that only one will die. Michael didn’t look back, only looking forward as his heart was lodged in his throat. He couldn’t look back, to see if he was the one being chased, or if Gavin was the one to die.
It turns out he did not need to turn around, as he heard the pounding steps of a horse, heading for him at full tilt.
Scrambling around some trees and up some smaller hills, Michael distantly thought how unlucky Gavin was. He had meant to split their food, had been dividing it between the two of them when Gavin had shrieked and high tailed it, only giving Michael a few precious seconds to return the food and leaving the hastily made camp the two and Jeremy made.
If I make it out of here, and I somehow to Christ find him again, Michael thought, dread filling his stomach as he heard a too-close for comfort laugh somewhere to his back left, I’m giving most of this shit to him. He seriously needs to eat more, Jesus Christ.
Michael knew he couldn’t run anymore, searching for a place to hide from the horse and its rider, before finding a low hanging branch, sturdy enough for what he needed to do.
But as he swept up the first branch, something sharp and cold pressed to his back, freezing him in place.
“Come now, I thought I was hunting the most dangerous game.” Came the taunting laughter as Michael turned around, pale as the moon that was slowly rising, to face the owner of the horse and deadly, deadly sword, the one who had started all of this.
Ryan smiled crookedly, malice bright in his eyes as one hand held the sharp, powerful diamond sword, while the other held something made out of obsidian, something small and circular.
“You know the laws.” The Mad King reminded, hefting the black thing up pointedly. “Unless you would rather be reunited with the Lovely Rose.”
As much as Michael wanted to give up, to never betray their friends like Ryan clearly had, as much as he dearly wished to see Ray again, he couldn’t leave Gavin; he couldn’t leave his still living friends to their fate.
Slowly, Michael dropped his head in surrender, swinging off the branch to land back onto the hard dirt, hands up. Ryan gave an amused chuckle before sweeping gracefully off his massive beast of a horse, his armour gleaming brightly like a star in the moonlight, until he stood towering over the younger man, sheathing his sword in favour of grabbing Michael’s chin, lifting his head.
“One caught, four to go.” He said, snapping the circular piece of obsidian around Michael’s neck like a heavy collar. Michael stumbled under the weight that seemed to now threaten to crush him. “Now, where did that little Halfling Creep off to?”
**Going back in time**
Peaceful years were hard to come by in Éacht, until the reign of High King Geoffrey and his Queen Griffon. The normally turbulent kingdom, surrounded by rough waters and two impressive kingdoms, the landlocked Fiacla, and the growing kingdom of Baile Spraoi, had until the rule of King Geoff been bitter enemies, all three kingdoms desperate to win more land over the others. But the High King had made the fighting not needed, settling the history of bad blood with a simple festival and discussion, leading to many treaties and signings with Fiacla’s ruler King Burnie, and Baile Spraoi’s King Adam.
Éacht soon spent many decades of peace and prosperity alongside its neighbours, all three rulers praised with being benevolent and peace seeking, allowing free travel between kingdoms for merchants.
As High King Geoff thought nothing could ever tear this peace away from him, disaster struck. His wife, Queen Griffon, a wonderfully strong woman in both mind and body to the point she rivaled her husband as the best ruler, died in childbirth. Although devastated, King Geoff continued, for their child, a beautiful girl he decreed would be named Millicent, Millie for short, had survived her birth that had killed her mother.
Another disaster struck when High King Geoff’s daughter, Millie, barely reaching her tenth birthday, was struck down with a powerful illness that would not let up, and would not slow down. As her life slipped, High King Geoff demanded and pleaded for his men to find someone who knew a way to save her, meeting a rather mysterious man by the name of Ryan, who had been rumoured to be a mage and a powerful one at that. He joined the castle during Princess Millie’s last day, unable to help her in any way besides lessen the pain the child would feel.
No one is certain how things proceeded from there, but the King, devastated by the death of his young daughter, withdrew to his castle for several weeks as his kingdom mourned the loss of their beloved princess. After several more weeks, though, news traveled that the High King was stepping down, giving the crown and title to one of the two men that had joined him and who he had begun to trust.
How the decision was made that allowed the newest man, Ryan, to become King had been debated for months after the announcement, and soon after, the peace High King Geoff had been protecting broke like fine glass.
For Ryan was ruthless, and to the people, he was Mad, bloodthirsty in all the wrong ways, and cruel.
Then his games began.
**still back in time but closer**
Michael, the kingdom’s bravest and strongest warrior this century, had been spared from the first game the new king had presented, an almost cannibalistic version of hunting, but his friends had not been. Ray, Gavin, a young maid named Lindsay, had all been taken away from the castle to some sort of area, possibly a small island far from the mainland, surrounded by forests and mountains, according to Gavin, the only one to survive the experience. Michael still remembered the horror filled shouts encompassed the room when Gavin returned, bloody and relaying the trauma. Out of the six innocents taken to play the game, only Gavin, whom all knew was the weakest, the clumsiest, the stupidest, and yet, he was the one to survive.
The Mad King would not let the families reclaim his ‘prizes’ and Michael flinched at the memory of Jeremy screaming for his ‘big brother’ to be returned to him and his family. He remembered Gavin scrambling whenever Ryan was walking, hands raising to his neck, his eyes wide, pupils small little dots as they watched every single movement made until the King would pass and Michael would spend hours calming him down, wishing for Ray who had always been there to help him calm the King’s charge.
Michael remembered both he and Jeremy spent weeks trying to get what exactly happened during the game from Gavin, to find out how Ray died, how their friend the maid Lindsay died, how those other three nameless victims were killed, but would always reach some sort of wall that would make Gavin freeze up and spiral into fits, as if unseeing to the world around him, locked in the past. The two warriors had finally stopped pestering the old King’s charge when it became apparent the other lad could not even dip his mind back into the memories without reliving every painful memory.
It soon became a tradition, a cruel, twisted game every year with only a small handful of poor souls practically kidnapped or coerced into joining the game under pain of decapitation public execution style. There were only ever a couple survivors at most each year, sometimes no one would survive the hunt, and again Michael would hear the mourning cries of his friend after one game, the eighth year, returned with news of the death of his closest childhood friend, Matt, who had been the last to die in the game, according to the Mad King.
Soon, it was rounding the tenth year of the annual Most Dangerous Game, and around the twelfth or so rule of the Mad King, when Ryan decided to up the danger, announcing some new laws to go with the game, before saying who were being hunted.
This is how Michael found himself surrounded by his closest friends and the Mad King, being told they would be participating in the game. By the way he was acting, Michael could tell under the hood Gavin was pale, hissing softly in fear, a coping mechanism he had learnt from his Creeper family, and shook like a leaf in a hurricane. Everyone was pale as they listened to the laws of the game. Jack gripped his arms in a fearful version of crossing his arms, the grip making his knuckles white. Jeremy looked ashen as he figured out how his brother, and his best friend, had been murdered during this game, and both young men understood how Gavin had survived. The Old King Geoff was more stony, unable to exert power to stop the madness as he willingly gave the crown and all the power that came with it to Ryan. Michael himself was unsure how he was feeling, but he had the most horrible feeling he would never see any of these friends alive ever again.
They were taken to one of the islands, connected by simple wooden or stone bridges, by boat, reminded of the rules. There was a magic barrier around the arena that would burn those foolish enough to try swimming away. Only at most two people were allowed the chance to serve the King when they are found. All the others must die, hunted like wild deer like it was all just some disgusting game. They were not allowed to dig and hide themselves under the earth.
They were given until sun up the next day to prepare, and when Jeremy had asked if they could work together, the Mad King just laughed crookedly. “Not like it’ll do you any good.” He had said, before releasing them onto their island.
Jack and Geoff fucked off first, crafting what they could quickly before they left the lads on the tallest hill on the island. Gavin seemed stricken and hadn’t spoken a single word, or at least human words, since getting on the boat. He would hiss and click, his hood pulled low over his face as if he were a child hiding from the world around him. Michael knew he couldn’t leave him.
Jeremy stayed with them as well, helping gathering materials with Michael as Gavin followed like a lost duckling. The two warriors discussed plans and possible strategies, but they had been flung into this situation with next to nothing. They had no weapons besides the ones they crafted themselves, had no idea where they were or what the terrain was like for the various islands that were connected by bridges, they were like infants on their own and it frustrated Michael to no end.
**Which leads back to**
The collar weighed heavily on Michael’s shoulders, the magic it contained sparking at his neck like mini lightning.
Ryan sat atop his steed as he scanned the area, but if he knew Gavin, the Creepling would be long gone, and wouldn’t look back. He wouldn’t be lucky surviving the games twice, Michael could tell by the twisted smile adorning the face of who had once been a good friend of his.
Michael still couldn’t understand what had happened to Ryan that changed him so drastically. A part of him even wondered if maybe he had always been this way and the self he had presented himself as was an act. Michael didn’t know which truth hurt more.
Ryan turned his gaze to the warrior, looking thoughtful. “You’re going to be my siren, dear Mogar.” Michael inwardly shuddered, his warrior name sounding dirty coming from the Mad King. “The collar will link us together telepathically and when you find one of the others, you will tell me.” His face darkened for a brief moment and it took all of Michael’s training not to flinch.
“Yes, my Liege.” The words rolled off the tongue out of habit, with no real commitment to the man on his horse in front of him.
“And if you do not tell me if you found one of the others, especially that Creepling you are so fond of…” The Mad King’s eyes sparked dangerously, but didn’t continue and Michael wanted the earth to swallow him up.
He nodded and Ryan smiled again. “Go forth, dear siren. Let the real fun begin.”
Chapter done!
This life is filled with hurt
When happiness doesn't work
Trust me and take my hand