Post by devilinthedetails on Apr 22, 2018 2:56:39 GMT 10
Title: Betrayal
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500
Summary: Ozorne, Master Chioke, betrayal, and the making of monsters.
Warning: Death threats and paranoia ahead.
Betrayal
“You’d never betray me, would you, Master Chioke?” Ozorne’s voice was a silk trap, a shimmering spiderweb to ensnare the unwary, in this case, Master Chioke. His question gave no indication that he suspected Master Chioke might have plotted against him with the gladiators.
“Of course not, my prince.” Master Chioke was an insect so close to flying into Ozorne’s woven web that he could almost taste blood on his tongue.
“Good.” Ozorne’s tone was warm as sunlight on the cusp of burning skin, but his eyes were cold and hard as diamonds. “If you betrayed me, I’d have to kill you, and I’d hate to have to kill you.”
“You shouldn’t threaten a master of this university.” Master Chioke was sharp, a knife that could have stabbed Ozorne in the back if Ozorne hadn’t learned to anticipate treachery.
“It’s not a threat if you aren’t a traitor.” Now it was Ozorne who was the dagger in Master Chioke’s chest. The pupil had outwitted his instructor; the student had surpassed the teacher. Master Chioke hadn’t realized that yet, another testimony to the fact that he wasn’t half so smart as he thought he was, but when it lit in his mind like a candle, his whole life would be set ablaze the way a spark could destroy a library of ancient tomes. Twisting the knife in Master Chioke’s chest, he continued, “Since my own father died in the Sirajit uprising, you’ve been a true father to me. A son should never have to slay his father, though I suppose if rumors are to be believed, that happens with distressing frequency in the imperial family’s history.”
“I’m honored Your Highness would consider me a father to you. I have only tried to advise you to the best of my humble abilities.” Master Chioke inclined his head in a display of modesty that was contrary to his nature.
“You’re the man who made me. I will never forget that.” Ozorne smiled with teeth like icicles, because his words weren’t intended to be an honor but a punishment that Master Chioke would only appreciate years later when he discovered the depths of Ozorne’s cunning and cruelty, when he saw the monster he had made who was and always had been beyond his control.
When that moment of epiphany arrived for Master Chioke, as it inevitably must, Master Chioke would reflect on this conversation and be tormented by the terrible knowledge that it was he who had taught Ozorne that the world was a ruthless place filled with vipers hissing at his heels where in order to survive when many enemies wanted him dead he had to become even more pitiless and mistrusting than the life that had created him. Ozorne might have been alone in the world except for Arram and Varice, but alone was how he preferred to be. Alone meant no vulnerability and no betrayal. Alone meant power to him and peril to those who sought to undermine his will.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500
Summary: Ozorne, Master Chioke, betrayal, and the making of monsters.
Warning: Death threats and paranoia ahead.
Betrayal
“You’d never betray me, would you, Master Chioke?” Ozorne’s voice was a silk trap, a shimmering spiderweb to ensnare the unwary, in this case, Master Chioke. His question gave no indication that he suspected Master Chioke might have plotted against him with the gladiators.
“Of course not, my prince.” Master Chioke was an insect so close to flying into Ozorne’s woven web that he could almost taste blood on his tongue.
“Good.” Ozorne’s tone was warm as sunlight on the cusp of burning skin, but his eyes were cold and hard as diamonds. “If you betrayed me, I’d have to kill you, and I’d hate to have to kill you.”
“You shouldn’t threaten a master of this university.” Master Chioke was sharp, a knife that could have stabbed Ozorne in the back if Ozorne hadn’t learned to anticipate treachery.
“It’s not a threat if you aren’t a traitor.” Now it was Ozorne who was the dagger in Master Chioke’s chest. The pupil had outwitted his instructor; the student had surpassed the teacher. Master Chioke hadn’t realized that yet, another testimony to the fact that he wasn’t half so smart as he thought he was, but when it lit in his mind like a candle, his whole life would be set ablaze the way a spark could destroy a library of ancient tomes. Twisting the knife in Master Chioke’s chest, he continued, “Since my own father died in the Sirajit uprising, you’ve been a true father to me. A son should never have to slay his father, though I suppose if rumors are to be believed, that happens with distressing frequency in the imperial family’s history.”
“I’m honored Your Highness would consider me a father to you. I have only tried to advise you to the best of my humble abilities.” Master Chioke inclined his head in a display of modesty that was contrary to his nature.
“You’re the man who made me. I will never forget that.” Ozorne smiled with teeth like icicles, because his words weren’t intended to be an honor but a punishment that Master Chioke would only appreciate years later when he discovered the depths of Ozorne’s cunning and cruelty, when he saw the monster he had made who was and always had been beyond his control.
When that moment of epiphany arrived for Master Chioke, as it inevitably must, Master Chioke would reflect on this conversation and be tormented by the terrible knowledge that it was he who had taught Ozorne that the world was a ruthless place filled with vipers hissing at his heels where in order to survive when many enemies wanted him dead he had to become even more pitiless and mistrusting than the life that had created him. Ozorne might have been alone in the world except for Arram and Varice, but alone was how he preferred to be. Alone meant no vulnerability and no betrayal. Alone meant power to him and peril to those who sought to undermine his will.