Donovan stiffened slightly as the familiar weight of his raven settled on his shoulder. Kangee’s presence, though unexpected, brought a rare sense of calm to his troubled spirit.
He never once entertained the fact that Kangee would co for him.
"Kangee, is that really you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Kangee on the other hand, simply tilted its head without answering, its sharp eyes scanning Donovan’s disheveled appearance. Then, with an indignant squawk, the raven exclaid, "Master, you look dreadful! How dare they treat you like this? I’ll spread the word! I’ll call for help!"
"Quiet, Kangee," Donovan said firmly, gently clasping the bird’s beak to silence it. His voice held a weary patience, but his expression betrayed their shared understanding. Both of them knew there was little to be done in the situation he was currently in. "I’m fine. Just... keep your voice down before soone hears."
Donovan couldn’t risk dragging Kangee into his ss as well. The silence between them prolonged a bit, but was soon broken by a question that ruined the fragile peace between them. "What about my father?"
In response to his question, Kangee stilled, an unnatural silence falling between them this ti around. Kangee didn’t answer, and Donovan’s lips curved into a faint, resigned smile. "He knows, doesn’t he? He knows I killed Mother. That’s why he didn’t co for ."
Kangee fluffed its feathers, visibly unsettled before asking, "But... how could that have happened?" Its voice, usually so bold, wavered as if grappling with the truth. "The whole of Illyria is in an uproar. You might not believe this but you should be lucky you’re blind. Your father... he’s furious. He’s grieving. But if you tell what really happened, I can go to him on your behalf. I can explain. There’s no way you’d..." Kangee hesitated, "even if you did do it, you couldn’t have done it without a valid reason, right?"
"Kangee," Donovan’s voice cracked, and he dropped to his knees. His hands trembled as he clutched the empty air, as though trying to hold onto sothing that had already slipped through his fingers.
Though the raven could not see the tears streaking his face, it felt the weight of Donovan’s despair, so much so that its own eyes began to water.
"It was an accident," Donovan whispered. "But Father will never believe . I killed her, Kangee. My own hands ended her life. I should have known, but I was being stubborn. I should have felt it. If only I had given in to the curse, surrendered to it for that one mont, maybe... maybe Mother would still be alive."
"Master, get a hold of yourself!" Kangee’s voice was sharp was it couldn’t believe the words Donovan had spilled. It glanced around as though the shadows themselves were eavesdropping, and it resisted the instinct to caw. "You mustn’t say such things ever again. To embrace the curse, it would have destroyed you and consud everything you are. How could you even consider such a thought? I’d hate to see you end up like your father. What happened wasn’t your fault! You can’t carry the weight of situations that are beyond your control."
"You don’t understand," Donovan turned his head away, his voice dropping to a bitter murmur. "These people, they keep twisting the entire truth. I did what I did out of defense, and I wanted revenge for what the King had done. Everyone’s accusing of murdering the king, but no one bothered to ask who started it all. He would still be alive if he had just said no."
Donovan tilted his head up, releasing another sigh. "Kangee, you should leave. But before you go, keep watch over the Damned. No one should breach the barrier that has been created. My people may bear the curse, but they’re innocent. My father’s army are an entirely different set of demons, and the palace can’t even tell the difference. Protect them, Kangee. At least until..." he faltered, his words catching in his throat. "Until the war ends."
"But what about you?" Kangee asked urgently. "Aren’t you going to do sothing about your current situation? It doesn’t matter if your father remains unshaken by your predicant. You need to get out of here sohow! What if they kill you too?!"
"I can’t die," Donovan replied, his tone hollow and filled with resignation. "That’s my curse."
After letting out a slow, tired sigh, he gestured towards the shackles clamped tightly around his ankle. The iron glead faintly under the dim light, and it was a cruel reminder of his captivity. "As for escaping this place, I can’t. These," he tapped the chains with a dull clink, "make sure of that. As long as they’re on, I can’t use my powers the way I want. I’m stuck here."
His expression softened, and he gave Kangee a gentle pat on the head. "Don’t waste ti worrying about . Do as I said and watch everything. No one should know about the two of us keeping contact, especially my father."
Kangee’s sharp eyes narrowed in defiance when Donovan finished his sentence. Seeing its own master in such a wretched state made Kangee’s feathers ruffle with agitation. It wanted to stay, to comfort him sohow, but it knew Donovan would never agree to it. If it could find Donovan’s father and describe the brutal condition his son had been left in, perhaps— just perhaps— it might stir so fragnts of compassion in his icy heart.
"I’ll co back," Was Kangee’s last words to him before it darted toward the small, jagged hole in the wall, disappearing into the night.
Donovan sat motionless after Kangee had left. His throat tightened, and an unfamiliar sting rose in his eyes. Tears threatened to slip, though he couldn’t quite understand why.
Then, he felt it.
The cursed marks on his neck began to writhe as his emotions swirled. They were like dark tendrils, twisting the stretching like living things beneath his skin. A sharp pang shot through him, and Donovan’s hands flew to the marks, pressing down as though that might keep them at bay. His breath ca in shallow bursts as his mind raced.
He knew all too well what the curse fed on— fear, doubt, anger and despair. Every shred of negativity he felt only made it stronger. His fangs were starting to pop out again, and he clenched his teeth, shaking his head.
Kangee was right. Giving in to the curse only spelled more trouble.
’Why fight it?’ A voice whispered in the back of his mind. ’So many things you could have changed. Let go, and let in."
The days passed, and as always, Es found herself drawn to Donovan’s company. After he finished his daily labor, the two of them settled beneath the gnarled shade of a dead tree. The tree’s twisted, skeletal branches made her uneasy, and it cast eerie shapes against the ground. When she glanced at Donovan, who was sprawled on his back, with his hands clasped behind his head, a rare mont of ease softened his features, and her own discomfort lted away at the sight.
"Why do you like resting here so much?" Es finally asked, unable to contain her curiosity. "The tree here looks scary and twisted. Can’t you see how the—"
"No," Donovan interjected smoothly, his tone laced with dry humor.
Es’s remaining words were left unsaid. She had foolishly forgotten he couldn’t see. An awkward silence stretched between the two of them, and Es racked her brain. When she glanced at Donovan again, she noticed the faint curve of a smile on his lips, and his voice broke the stillness.
"Why so silent? Do you have nothing to entertain with today?"
Hearing the slightest tease in his voice, Es was relieved by the fact that he wasn’t offended. A thought struck her, and her expression brightened.
"I do have sothing to share," she began eagerly. "My future stepmother and her son visited recently. At first, I was terrified to et with them, but she’s surprisingly kind. And her son, my stepbrother, introduced himself as Dahr."
"Ahhh..." Donovan sat up, a slow smirk playing on his lips. "So not just a mother, but a brother too? How fortunate for you."
Es nodded, a small smile lighting her expression. "He brought sweets, you know. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have a big brother, and now I can experience all that."
"That’s good," Donovan replied, his tone light and sincere. " It sounds like you have a lovely family now." After uttering those words, his smile faltered, and shadows crept into his expression as her health weighed heavily in his mind.
"I don’t want to die yet," Es dropped, her voice quiet and barely audible. .
Those words stilled Donovan, because she had spoken with a solemnity he hadn’t heard before.
"Who told you you’re going to die?" he asked, his voice edged with sothing beyond annoyance.
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