Salvation of The Scum Fifth Prince

[48 - candy; sweet addiction]

The skies were beautiful, colored in their purple-blue haze, with twinkling sprinkles of light dancing across the dark canvas. It was beautiful, even when this land was anything but.

From the windows, through the clear glass, the town could be seen. Gentle lights illuminated the edges of the buildings in their soft hue, and silence filled the stone streets. Almost as if everything were normal, when normal was so far away.

Soren stood up, pushing the doors open as he stepped outside, crouching to the floor lazily. His legs stuck between the railings, icy eyes reflecting the thousand crystals of night sky.

It was a pretty view; he found.

A strange time to think of such things, but was there ever a right time? Under the night's gaze, he found himself thinking of several things.

They would expose the Haze King for who he was, crushing one of the Third religions' support. If the leader wished to become a God, then Soren needed only to take away his ability to do so.

Then what?

Where would he go after?

Raphael could deal with the rest, and the end of the world could be prevented so long as Soren left behind the information he knew. Because that was his only use, really. The knowledge of the original novel.

As used to he was about the current situation, the chattering people around him, the bonds that clearly existed, he felt unsettled.

That everything would disappear, as it always did.

He closed his eyes, the breeze brushing against his skin and submerging him in his own memories. Of the apocalypse.

"I'm sorry." they'd say, after leaving him behind with guilt painted on their face — along with relief, that they'd live, even if he did not.

"You're a monster!" they'd scream after watching him emerge from the collapse of corpses littered on the ground, drenched in his own crimson colour.

Yet, "Save me!" they'd plead, when he was the only option they had left.

Apathetic, he was, when he'd watch their sobering pleas and turn away. He didn't want to be involved. He wanted to stay away. From people, from feelings — both theirs and his own.

A lurking hatred simmered in his soul, buried beneath indifference and apathy.

Soren despised himself.

"Little prince, what're you doing?" The voice tore him away from wandering and meaningless thoughts, rippling through his mind.

Soren lifted his eyes, still clouded in his murky thoughts. Something crossed Raphael's eyes — worry, confusion, curiosity — as he noticed the haze. But he didn't pry. No, it wasn't necessarily the time to.

Although pry he might, at a later date.

The prince turned his eyes back to the skies above. "Thinking."

"A bland reply as always." chuckled Raphael as he draped his arms over the railing, staring at the same sight as the other.