“They say his hair is as wild as fire”

Twin lamps held high by two maid servants.Their voices hushed, yet their brisk strides down the wet-stone path of the west side of the palace say otherwise. What little rainwater falls from the terrifying height of the palace roof and onto the thick, mushy desert sands. The path leads to a beautiful maze garden in the far distance. ''more like unkempt as a donkey’s rear'' The servant on the left snickers. Soon, they both begin howling at the image. Their gossip shortlived.

Laboured breathing fogs the chilly air. Fireflies dance around the cricket-chirping-frog-croaking thicket. Locks of hair, resembling a blazing furnace cast over the sides of a pale-skinned man, hunched and clothes disheveled as if they’ve been grasped at with restraint. Like spun gold, they begin to drown out the strands of pure silver hair. Pale-silver eyes darken, the flecks burning into a golden hue; unquenched by the scorn of the desert. Inhaling deeply, a deep purr resonates from his chest as the man rolls his bruised inked neck, cut from the sharp nails embedded into the dirt. Humans. A lazy grin dawn upon his rosy lips.

“Mmm..dinner so soon~?”

The cackling servant girl freezes. Her eyebrows furrowing as they reach the entrance of the garden, her friend halts besides her, grasping at her arm. “Lor, what’s wron-“ Raising the lamp higher, the second maid tentatively approaches. Walking past the gate. She jumps when her elbow is grasped, Her head snapping towards her friend who grasped her. And in a moment, the flame of her lamp flickers out.

“AHHHHH !”

You jolt awake, staring blankly at the ceiling of the royal chambers. The scream having reverberated through the west hall.