#echoedloyalty

      “ Whelp, you dare defy me?! Tell me now— Where has your sister fled to? “ Thick, claw-like appendages squeezed around the throat of the weak boy that Grima held up in the air. The tips of his razor-sharp nails pinching in a little too deeply as droplets of blood rolled down the boy-puppet’s neck. A gasp, both out of pain and need for oxygen clambered its way out of his tightly held esophagus. Marc’s teeth gritted in order to focus his tension somewhere, a tendril of drool being loudly ‘slurped’ as he tried to keep himself together as best as he could. 

      Just days prior Marc’s beloved twin sister had ‘ magically ‘ disappeared from the castle. Was Marc aware as to why? Not at all, as the twins grandmother had kept her plans hidden all along to get her grandchild away from the ferocious monstrosity that had become their father. The time to strike and scurry from Plegia had came with not enough time to prepare them both and thus, the older sorceress had been forced to make a choice on who to save and who to leave behind. Morgan would have surely died, that much was obvious to all of the grimleal around. In fact, it was often heard in quiet gossip that the sole reason the girl was alive was merely because their Master liked having a ‘ toy. ‘ Now, with his boredom setting in, it was obvious that without Morgan around to treat so cruelly the Fell Dragon would need to find someone else to take his frustrations out on.

      This brings us to Marc held up in the air like some sort of ragdoll. It did not matter if he was a master of Dark Magic or that he could properly cast the spells learnt from within Grima’s Truth. To the Fell Dragon he was nothing more than a useful puppet to do his bidding and quell any foes that dared to stand in his way. Morgan was just a bartering chip to keep the boy in line. And without her, Marc was as much of an asset as his sister; worthless and easily disposable.

      “ M-Master… I— hnngh… “ The redhead’s voice was husky and hoarse, barely capable of forming a proper sentence. His Master’s head cocked to the side, a smug and snarky grin spread widely on the Dragon’s features. The tight grip around Marc’s throat squeezed tighter, more blood dripping down before the creature’s hand relinquished its grip and dropped Marc to the floor. A resoundingly loud thud echoed through the chambers of the hall as the princeling landed flat on his back. Oh, how his back arched forward in pain as he gasped sharply and nearly screamed in immediate pain. It was over; he could catch his breath. As quickly as he could bring his arms up to his neck, Marc was covering his bleeding neck with the palms of his hands.

      For a brief— very, very brief moment, Marc felt relief. His master was giving him a moment to speak up and explain himself. Taking another deep breath in, Marc lifted his head to stare up towards his Master. Though when his maroon eyes met that sharp, crimson gaze Marc was staring back to the floor; unable to face the monster that lived within his father’s body. “ Morgan… Grandmother… I have no idea as to why they would leave, Master. Please… forgive me for not knowing… Should I go find them? “ Oh, a mistake so grave of him to have asked… Naivety in regards to their master was always going to be the downfall of Marc & Morgan…

      “ Find them? Oh, yes… You will hunt them down, and you will bring them back to me on their knees; begging and pleading for forgiveness. “ As Grima spoke, he stepped closer to Marc and hovered above his so-called ‘ successor. ‘ What a truly pathetic, useless being. At the very least he had his worth stemming from his loyalty and capable skills as an heir… Squatting down to be on Marc’s level, Grima’s claw-like appendages once again took a hold of their puppet. This time, of Marc’s chin and cheeks as he cupped the boy’s face almost ‘ lovingly ‘ like a father would. “ And when you do, I will make them scream louder than they have ever screamed before. Just, like this. “ With his opposing hand, Grima reached for a small ritual dagger that hung off his belt. Just before the pause in his speech, the Fell Dragon jammed the dagger straight into Marc’s shoulder. The teenager’s eyes went wide with a mixture of fear and agonizing pain. His jaw swung open as he went to scream in anguish; his hand rushing to clutch his arm though Grima prevented him from trying to remove the blade.

      “ They will scream just like this, only louder! “ The blade was twisted within his shoulder, encouraging the boy to scream louder just as the Dragon wanted to hear. “ And when their voices are too hoarse to scream any louder, I will silence them for good. Their heads will roll and their bodies will lay limp on the floor. You can even have the honors of burying them after. A good lad such as yourself deserves a reward, doesn’t he? Always following my orders, so obedient. “ Grima cackled as he released Marc’s face, his hand gently ‘ slapping ’ the side of his cheek before standing up and walking away. “ Clean yourself up and get to work. You’re bleeding all over the granite floor. “ There, Marc was left alone in the grand hall as he attempted to pull the dagger free his shoulder.