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a bunch of bullshit written by a bullshit teenager with a bullshit hobby. tho it's not like I update that often
Beginning (1/?)
( 0 ) a continuation from this! well, sort of. I actually had this part sitting around for a while, I just needed to edit it // didn't know when to stop. :'3 c


The monster was gruesome, a disgusting hulk of a beast that snarled to showcase spit-riddled yellow teeth. It lowered itself, black body rippling and yellow eyes practically glowing in the hot afternoon sun.

Jun sighed, setting down her bucket of water. This always happened when she went to get water from the river. Living out in the southern area of the kingdom (where the farms were) meant that there wasn’t much activity, so Jun was up for any sort of change, but this was beginning to get a little annoying.

Really, how was she supposed to be of any use her last days with her grandmother if she kept running into a rabid puppy along the way?

The girl spread her legs out, scrunching down and bracing her arms with bandaged palms spread out as if she was ready to grip something. She waited.

The beast charged with a typical roar, and Jun lunged too, except she dove to the ground as she pushed all her weight into grabbing the beast by its legs. In a few seconds the monster was flipped over, struggling as Jun ferociously pressed her thumbs into the beast’s eyes, her elbow lodged into it’s most fatal pressure point.
There was a small popping sound as the beast went slack, giving out a dying roar.

Jun relaxed, slinging the monster in its whole across her shoulder as she grabbed the pail again. She was beginning to wonder if her grandmother was going to get sick of the meat any time soon – the messenger that had arrived to their village warned them about the monsters, but from the way he was quaking in fear the village had been worried over nothing. (Or at least the teenager thought so.)

It took her only a few moments longer to reach her grandmother’s house, giving a little ‘I’m home!’ as she entered and dropping the monster with a telltale loud ‘thump’. Her grandmother was at the stove, cooking what might have been another stew as Jun handed her the pail before taking a moment to sit at the table and sling her feet on the edge.

“Feet on the table, head on the ground, dear.” Her grandmother threatened lightly with a sweet hum, her own carefully white-bandaged hands spinning the stew spoon. Fearing her grandmother’s retribution Jun swung her feet off, deciding to lean her head against the table again.

“There are too many monsters.” The girl complained, pointing to the beast that her grandmother was currently hurriedly cutting into pieces. “I know it’s good that we have food now, but they’re everywhere! It’s so annoying.”
“It’s not like you have to kill every single one.” Her grandmother responded, warm voice lack of any sort of sympathy. Jun, already used to, gave a little shake of her head.

“No, that’s the thing. We do. After the huge explosion the cultists caused at the north east where the desert and ocean connect – you know, the one that released the monsters in the first place – the Oracle announced that we were supposed to kill every monster we saw. They’re making a game out of it, like people’s lives can be spared with ease.” Jun scowled.

“Now now, dear.” Her grandmother hummed. “You should really have more respect for the Oracle. Do you forget they are the Ancients who saved us when the Evil King was sealed away under the ground? If it wasn’t for them, we might not be living the way we do!”

“What, in a village in the forests of the south far away enough that the inspectors don’t come here?” Jun replied, giving a slight sneer. “If we have the Oracle, what’s the point of having the royalty?”

“It may sound foreign to you,” Her grandmother began with a rather sharp snap of her spoon, “But there is a such thing as needing to please the crowd—especially ungrateful brats like you. There is a reason there is only a king and one princess, you know.”

Jun brushed off the minor insult – living with her grandmother had made her acquire a tough skin for such things, and she knew her grandmother only meant it lightly. The girl gave a little huff, glancing away to stare sullenly at the wood paneling of the floor. Her brother would defend her – he was the one who placed the idea of the Oracle being a bunch of sleazy fake-children in her head in the first place.

Her grandmother’s eyes softened as she stopped the fire, setting the pot down on the table in front of Jun. “You’ll be leaving soon, you know.” She murmured. “You really need to learn to keep your mouth shut, dear. What would your brother think?”

“Yeah.” Jun responded, going to pour her grandmother’s bowl first. “I wonder.”


The castle was in an uproar.

Servants ran in a panicked scuttle as castle guards clanked about, searching the castle for a very important lost person -- the king’s wailing was clear even through the commotion.

Prince Charles -- not actually the king’s son -- placed a comforting hand on the grieving king’s shoulder as tears spilled down aging cheeks.

“I’m sure we’ll find her, Your Highness.” The prince murmured, eyes flicking past the castle doors to see a rather scantily dressed woman peering through at him. When their eyes met the woman simply shot a smile, disappearing in an instant.

“W-Why would she leave?” The king blubbered. “My beautiful wonderful big-eyed innocent daughter—“

“Perhaps she was unsatisfied with her state of affairs?” Prince Charles was quick to suggest, leaning down slightly so he could meet the king’s eyes as he furrowed his eyebrows. “She never did seem to enjoy castle life, perhaps at the news of the cultists releasing the spirit of the old king and monsters everywhere made her think she could help –“

“IMPOSSIBLE!” The king roared, and the prince was quick to take a few steps back. “Why on earth would my lovely daughter feel that?! She’s never shown any discontent about being a figurehead before, and my sugarpumpkins is so smart she wouldn’t feel the need to go out and hunt those vulgar beasts when there were people out there doing it for her—“

“Perhaps,” A voice cut out from the darkness and from the shadow slipped a being – a tall male, leather-gloved hands tossing an apple. The only remarkable thing on him was the necklace around his neck, chain hidden by a rather large red handkerchief tied around his neck. The male had handsomely tan skin, fashionably long, brown hair flipped up with a clip so it wouldn’t brush against his nape. He wore ridiculously simple clothing, something more akin to a commoner then somebody who would be living in the castle. “Somebody persuaded her into it, Your Highness.”
The man’s eyes met Charles’s, a friendly grin spreading over his features as he gave an almost insultingly deep bow. “But of course,” The tall stranger hummed, “I’m but a simple thief. You shouldn’t listen much to me.”

“Nonsense, Thien.” The king sniffled, reaching up a robed sleeve to dab at his eyes and control himself. “You may be a dirty scoundrel, but as the fourth most popular person in the kingdom, you are an important part of the castle’s top.”

“Such words are really too kind.” Charles slid in, eyes narrowed in dislike as he stared at Thien. “In any case, I’m sure the princess will come back soon. She is the kingdom’s ranking number one, after all. Surely nobody would harm the most beloved girl in the country.“ Charles’s eyes never left Thien as the words slid out of his mouth, aware of the king watching the two of them carefully. It wasn't news to anyone that Thien and Charles detested eachother -- the two had a bitter rivalry that stretched farther than their constant struggle over the fifth and fourth rank.

“You poor thing, Prince Charles – you must really be so worried.” Thein added in slyly, making Charles glare at him. The thief was grinning widely as he motioned to the prince’s hand. Pushed up on the prince’s right finger was a silver ring. “You’re engaged to our lovely princess, so you must be worried, right? After all, she is your most important person.”

If it had been in the presence of anybody else Charles would have drawn his sword, but he remained silent, eyes on the king as the old man turned to him with considering eyes.

“Forgive me Charles,” The king began softly, “for all of my selfishness I forgot to think of you!”

Charles turned, dark blue eyes fixing themselves on Thien in a silent warning. The prince pushed a gloved hand back through curly black hair, unfashionably short.

“There is nothing to forgive, Your Highness.” Charles murmured back, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Thien. The king gave a little hum, saying something else that was lost upon both male’s ears as they stared at one another.

Charles scowled. Thien grinned.

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