Monkeys were a marvel of nature. They were smarter than most, sometimes even more so than humans and the other god races.
They had their own rules and culture.
Zareil knew this because once some of their kind had lived in his house.
He would watch them give birth to their heirs and then proceed to kill them. It always left him wondering.
Why do they kill their own?
He did not know.
They stopped infanticide when he was watching. Were they aware?
Perhaps.
. . . . . .
Pitter Patter.
A young man could be seen standing under the moonlight. His hair was dark, and eyes darker still.
He was still, perhaps busy reminiscing about what he could no longer have. Two obsidian tombstones stood beneath his feet, names engraved on their glossy surface.
Moonlight could be seen bouncing off their surface, reflecting the man's face on the grave of a forgotten couple.
His expression was indifferent, even as something streamed down his face, falling into the shallow puddle of water below. The heavens were crying with him, black thunder clouds gathering over him, mourning what had been lost.
Zareil's hand reached into the pocket of his coat, a black one-piece hugging his figure, and from it pulled a dozen black roses.
He took six in each of his hands and bent down so that his knees dipped slightly in the pool of water.
Faint whisps of wind moved in the empty graveyard. Crashing softly into trees, rustling their leaves.
Zareil placed both his hands on the two graves simultaneously and dropped the roses on top of them. He sat there for a moment, the memories of his dead parents passing through his mind like an old film, images passing through his mind.
"Flower, gleam and glow, let your power shine, make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine~."
Bolts of silver slipped into the world around him, escaping a magical circle. They crackled softly, reminding him of his father.
He remembered the day his father had celebrated his seventh birthday. He had personally wrapped their entire mansion in balloons and bought him his first ever metal weapon.
Zareil remembered many such memories, but ultimately all he could do was...nothing. He could not bring back his parents; he couldn't go to the past, but it didn't do anything to stop the verses flowing from his mouth.
"Heal what has been hurt. Change Fate's design~." His voice was soft and melodious, echoing across the silent expanse of the cemetery. Mixed with the soft platter of rain and occasional flash of purple thunder, Zareil could sing in peace.
His song was almost completed. The crackling bolts of lightning had begun to take shape, converging around his knees; they were forming into living flowers of silver electricity.
"Save what has been lost. Remind me of what once was mine~."
CRACKLE—!
With a final muffled hiss, the flowers took life. Petals of luminous silver, stained with drops of purple, and a muted blue center.
While chants were no longer necessary to cast spells, Zareil had still taken his sweet time. He was free from his duties for the day, and his parents' death anniversary was more important than any job.
Once again, he divided the flowers into groups of six and placed them beside the black roses.
A soft voice reached his ears as the wind howled, stronger this time, making his clothes ruffle, and the freshly placed flowers fall.
"Why are you crying, dear brother. It is your birthday, enjoy the day instead of spending it mourning."
The voice that spoke was soft, filled with kindness, yet the owner didn't dare come closer to the mourning youngster, afraid to disturb his peace, or perhaps afraid of something else.
Zareil glanced behind him to take a look at the figure. They had black hair, blue eyes, and similar yet different azure horns. He didn't bother sparing her more than a glance as he shifted his gaze back to the graves.
The voice, hurt by his blatant disregard to her announcement, spoke again, as Zareil bent to pick up the fallen flowers.
"You're awfully rude today, aren't you, but I forgive you; I can't exactly be mad at the birthday boy. You should really get up; your knees are soaked, and they probably hurt as well. I am going to count till five, and if you're still not up, I'm gonna grab you myself."
He's ignoring me again. What a bastard my little brother has become. It might be my fault, but still...
Astrid knew she was being unreasonable; the fact that Zareil hadn't attacked her as soon as he sensed her was amazing enough. After what she had done, even she would've attacked herself.
Do I really need to pull out that card.
She hated herself for what she was about to do, but there was no other choice. She had to, because if she didn't, something terrible would happen to her brother without his knowing, and that she could not allow.
"You're still ignoring me. Do you not trust me? I wonder what Mom and Dad would think. They would have been so disa—"
Swoosh—!
She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence as a sword flew straight towards her, aiming to turn her into brain mush.
Astrid tilted her head slightly to the side, and the black sword whistled past her, striking an unfortunate tree that exploded in a shower of bark and leaves.
Normally, a thin line of crimson should have marred her cheeks, but the force behind Zareil's strike wasn't nearly enough to even scratch her. Astrid was a Champion who practiced all three paths in tandem. Her skin was harder than the toughest of metals; a measly three shatering strike would do her no harm.
Zareil's voice reached her, burrowing inside her head. It was melodious and sweet, pleasant to hear. A voice that you would expect a musician to have.
"Don't you dare utter their names with your filthy mouth, you devil. You don't deserve to call them 'Mom and Dad, ' not after what you did. Hell, I would have killed you if I could. You should pray to whatever horrid deity you worship, be grateful that I'm still weak."
Zareil now openly glared at her, his luminous blue eyes burning bright with bloodlust, dots of black spreading in his eyes.
"Do you know, sister, because of you, my trust in people has basically died. After your betrayal, I figured out that trust was more of a weapon than the ability to depend on others."
His voice was calm, and his face expressionless, but Astrid could sense the anger behind his eyes.
"I came to understand that trust came in different forms for everyone. For the rich, it came in the shape of connections; for the poor, it was bonds with precious family members. To the evil, it came as a tool, another variable to manage in their twisted games.
All I can see trust as now is an evil concept used to destroy lives, but to some, the ones truly unfortunate, trust sometimes becomes the very lifeline they had been searching for. But even that lifeline snaps under the strain of ever-evolving emotions and complications, and when it breaks instea of blaming themselves, people blame the gods. They blame destiny, fate, and every other celestial entity they can think of."
"Tell me, Astrid, how many relations have you seen that truly lasted till death do them part."
Without waiting for her answer, Zareil continued. "None, you have never seen anyone live happily until they die, not even our parents. Even Mom and Dad were fighting before they died, why I do not know, but facts are facts."
A little overwhelmed at the...sudden vent Zareil had delivered in that calm matter-of-fact voice, Astrid could not help but sigh. Her brother was truly unreasonable, even though she was the one who was being unfair.
"Just try to calm down, no need to tell me how useful and useless trust is, I know better than most. So, for now, let me wish you a happy birthday, and then I'll leave."
She even raised her arms as if to show that she meant no harm.
I don't like this. She is definitely up to something, but I don't know what.
But he still listened, not because he wanted to, but because there was no other choice. Astrid could follow him anywhere he went; the only reason he knew she was here was because she wanted him to know.
"Just wait a few minutes, and then I'll leave."
A few minutes...the clock is going to hit 12 in three minutes. Is that what she means?
Zareil had a nagging feeling that something was going to happen the moment the clock hit 12, but just like he said, he couldn't do anything.
That reminded him of another thing.
He was about to turn 21. How cruel fate was, for his birthday to be on the death anniversary of his parents.
Astrid stayed quiet, opting to wait out her minute.
Three minutes passed in silence as the siblings stared at each other, and then a voice made its way into his mind, saying something that shocked him to his very core.
[12:00, Junel 21, 9971]
[Both siblings are twenty-one years of age or above.]
[Bestowing the gift of Dominion on reader Zareil Di Diavolo.]
Astrid heard the same monotone, androgynous voice, but what was said to her was different compared to Zareil and wholly expected.
[12:00, Novel 21, 9971]
[Both siblings are twenty-one years of age or above.]
[Reader Astrid Di Diavolo already has the blessing of Dominion.]
"Astrid, what in the name of god is happening. What did you do? Why is the Book talking to me, and why the hell did I awaken again!?"
Astrid smiled at her bewildered brother and told him everything she could, which wasn't much except a cryptic oracle-style message.
"All will be explained, Zareil, all will be explained."
[Transferring contestants of Dominion to their first trial...]
[The Book blesses you.]
[Goodluck readers.]