Chapter Text
Sand crunched under his bare feet as he walked along the beach. The sun hung low in the sky and created a long shadow that disappeared into the dark green water. Wood and shells scattered the shore as waves began to move higher and higher as high tide came back in to greet the moon.
Sea foam wrapped around his ankles as he diverted his straight path along the sandy shore to a cluster of rocks. He grabbed onto a stone; the cold, wet algae finding a way under his fingernails as he pulled himself up. Each pull and tug, movement of ascension, was met with some hesitation as he adjusted his grip so he would not fall back onto the rocks below.
The man pulled himself up onto a hidden path, more likely a part of the rock had broken away long ago and left this flat section. The ledge he stood on was barely wide enough for him to stand, his back forced to be against the rock wall behind him, so he did not fall.
Salty wind blew his messy bangs into his face as he began to inch around the rock, careful of every step that he took. He used his bare feet to feel for any loose stone before he put his weight fully onto it. The journey would have taken an inexperienced climber twenty minutes, but he did it in half the time.
Down below him the beach was gone. Waves hit the rocky sides of the cliff angrily. The dark churring water only seemed more menacing as the light of the sun began to disappear. Soon he would be left in the dark, but he did not care.
A grin stretched onto his face as he hopped nimbly to a ledge much wider and easier to keep balance. Enough room for him to feel perfectly safe and steady.
The bag that he had been carrying was put down carelessly as he looked down over the side. Down at the choppy waters. His grin fading into a look of confusion when he thought he spotted something under the dark waves.
Cautiously, he moved closer to the edge and squinted down. The darkness of the oncoming night no longer a comfort as it hid something under the waves. His toes curled to clutch at the edge of the rock; body resisted the want to look closer in fear of falling.
“Hello?” His voice echoed off the walls and was drowned out by the sound of waves, “Are you one of mine?”
There was no answer. He stood up straighter and took a small step back from the edge of the cliff. He furrowed his brows in thought. The shadow below the waves had been too vague for him to tell what waited below the waves.
“Guess I am not doing an evening dive,” he sighed to himself. A black expression appeared on his face before he shrugged and he turned on his heel, “Ah well. Can still work on my super-secret project.”
With a flick of his wrist the cliff face that housed the ledge he stood on opened-up like a door. Green torches came to life and showed a long hallway that seemed to go on for miles. Water dripped from the ceiling and the hall gave a blast of cold, damp air.
The man took in a deep breath and sighed. A happy smile on his face as he moved to grab his bag. He did not make it over to it. The cliff ledge he stood on shook and made him slip on the slippery rock. He held his hands out to catch his balance.
For a moment it looked like he would be safe as his lower back hit the rock he had been balanced on. His breath left his lungs with a small wheeze as the surface under him fell still.
Something below him had smashed into the rock.
Something under the waves.
He turned his head to look down back at the water that was below him. Somehow, in this vulnerable position, the drop down seemed much farther then before. In the darkness of the newly settled night he saw nothing. Only heard the crash of the waves. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as he tried to sit up.
Another hit shook the cliff more.
He began to slide.
Hands unable to grab onto anything he felt himself tip off the ledge. Wind whistled around him loudly as tried to shake himself from his shock to grab onto something; anything.
He heard someone screaming. He vaguely wondered who it was. Who noticed his fall?
He only became aware that it was his own scream when what little air he still had in his lungs was knocked out by the force of the water as he landed. The pain from the hard smack hurt. The waves tossed him under and then smashed him against the cliff that he had once stood on top of.
The saltwater stung his eyes as he forced them open as the waves continued to pummel him against the rough surface of the cliff. What little air he still had escaped in bubbles as he tried to figure which way was up; which way was towards air.
Black danced around his vision as the waves smashed him back against the rocks once more. He did his best to shake it off as the cry from his lungs pleaded with him to move. To get oxygen.
He pushed off the cliff side with all his might; hands and feet scraped by the harsh surface so that the saltwater could sting them. It was worth it for the sweet taste of air as he broke the surface of the water.
The man gasped and sputtered. Trying to get as much air into his lungs as possible before he would have to try and swim back to the beach. At least, that had been the plan.
Something below the surface of the wild waves had moved closer. Something had brushed against his leg. He tried to see but the darkness of the night, the movement of the water, and his own tired mind could not find anything to spot. He only got a clear lock on it when he felt something wrap tightly around his ankle.
Not a sound left him as the creature pulled Remus back under the waves. The ocean seeming to calm once the deed was done.
The mindscape, or palace as the twins insisted, was calm. Thomas was in bed reading a book that he had wanted to pick up for a few months, so the sides had the rest of the night free. Patton took this as an indication that they could all have a family dinner and game night. While met with different reactions from certain sides, Roman had jumped on board immediately.
He did not have to do much in terms of creative ideas while Thomas was focused on another’s creative work. This was how he found himself dancing around Patton in the warm kitchen as they finished up the final preparations for dinner.
“I think these biscuits are ready to go, Padre.”
Roman turned the oven off with a tap of a button and pulled on the oven mitts. The biscuits that he pulled out were golden brown. The heat the emitted did not stop Roman from reaching for one once he set the baking sheet down and pulled the mitts off.
Instead of a rewarding treat he found his arms full of plates and cutlery.
“Not yet they need to cool, my hungry prince,” Patton giggled. “Besides, don’t want to ruin the appetite so close to dinner time.”
“But Patton,” Roman pouted, “It is just one.”
“One that will burn your mouth like last time,” Patton moved to stir the mac and cheese.
“It was not that bad.”
Patton sighed and shook his head in fondness at the impatience of the creative side.
“Alright, how about this, you can have one as soon as you finish setting the table for me.”
Roman stood up straighter and hugged the tableware he had been handed, “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Roman grinned brightly and rushed to get out of the kitchen, “I am holding you to that, Pat!”
A quest was obtained and Roman was determined to do his best job at it. His goal in sight, the tasty treat that he would get to eat before dinner even began. Maybe if he was lucky, he could sneak some of the Wild Berry Crofters onto it before Logan came downstairs.
He hummed a tune to himself as he placed all the plates in front of every chair. Cloth napkins appeared out of thin air, folded into swans at the flick of a wrist, before they landed gently on each plate.
The last napkin swan had just touched down onto the shiny surface of the plate when a sudden feeling of panic seized him. The cups and silverware fell to the ground as the usually put together prince braced himself onto the nearest chair. He clutched at the front of his uniform as the pain seemed to only grow, centering on his chest.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He had to do something and yet, he felt frozen. Frozen and doubled over in the dining room; stuck in place to stare down at his shoes.
Something was wrong.
“-man?”
Something is wrong.
“Roman!”
He distantly heard a voice calling his name.
“Something is wrong,” he mumbled the words to himself under his breath.
“Roman, what is wrong? Are you okay?”
The warm hand that touched him freed him from the spell of terror, but he only became more worried as the pain turned into simply a dull throb. A dying memory, a dying force, buried deep within him.
Patton looked at him with worried eyes behind his glasses; obviously trying to find a physical injury on the side before him.
“What happened? Did you stab yourself with one of the steak knives?”
Roman gently moved Patton’s hands off him and rushed towards the stairs.
Something is wrong. Something is wrong.
“Roman!?!” Patton was at his heels. “Roman, please, tell me what happened? You’re worrying me.”
“I’m fine,” Roman insisted as he pushed into his bedroom. He nimbly jumped over his brother’s mess so he could get to the wall of weapons that was situated on his brother’s side of the room. “But I think I am going to be late for dinner.”
Roman picked up a net, his sword, and then hesitantly grabbed Remus’ morning star.
“What…what do you mean you are going to miss dinner?” Roman turned to find Patton standing in the doorway, a scared look on his face.
“I’m fine, Patton,” he tried to give a reassuring smile, but it fell flat. “But…But Remus isn’t.”
The dull ache in his chest told him he could not delay. Could not wait for Patton to question him more on specifics. The longer he stood there and did nothing the more likely it was that Thomas would lose half of his creativity; that he would lose his brother.
Roman only paused his rush to get out of the room to give Patton a quick hug. The morning star slung over his shoulder, his sword strapped to his belt, and a small hope. A small hope that moved him fast out the door and towards the imagination.
That he could get to his brother in time.