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mulberryasher · 10 months ago

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[Fanservant]

Huitzilopochtli

Huitzilopochtli

Japanese Name: ウィツィロポチトリ

Class: Saber

Rarity: SSR: ★★★★★

AKA: Hummingbird, Eagle, Fake Blue Tezcatlipoca, Fake Grand Saber, True Sun of Mexica

Stats: ATK: 12,831 Lv.100 Grail ATK: 14,047 HP: 14,531 Lv.100 Grail HP: 15,920

Personal Skills:

First Skill: Fifth Sun: A

Grants self-guts status for 1 times 3 turns. Increase the party’s attack for 3 turns. Increases party's critical damage for 3 turns. Charge party’s NP gauge. Grants party Invincibility Buff Block for 1 time, 3 turns. Removed the buff and changed to reduce their defense for 3 turns.

Second Skill: Tezcatl eye: EX

Increase own NP damage and critical damage for 3 turn. Charge own NP gauge and gain critical stars. Ignore Invincibility for one turn and Grant's self-invincibility for 3 attacks, 3 turns.

Third Skill: Solar: A

Increases own Buster performance for 3 turns. Increases own Arts performance for 3 turns. Reduces their defense for 3 turns. Increases own attack for 3 turns. Increases own damage against Divinity enemies for 3 turns.

Class skills:

Magic Resistance: A

Territory Creation: EX

Divine Sun: A

Appreciation of Weapons: A

Parameter:

Strength: EX

Endurance: A

Agility: EX

Mana: EX

Luck: B+

NP: EX

PROFILE

Default:

It was the most powerful deitiy, without a doubt, within the Aztec world. He was born as an undefeated, ruthless warrior on the battlefield, bloodthirsty and bloodshed field, sun and rules, rising sun to the bright sun; when the Aztecs were at war, he was the protector or sacrificed to protect the people as the god of warrior, people believe the incarnation of the sun and replace Nanahuatzin, the sun god from the Aztec Mythology.

Although Hulitzilopochtli would be best suited for the Berserker class, yet was summoned as a pseudo-servant and Saber class.

Bond 1:

Height/Weight: 188cm/80kg

Origin: Aztec Mythology

Region: Latin America, Mexica, Mexico

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Gender: Male

“All I wanted was to protect the people, but I did not. I didn’t want to be a hero or warrior. I wanted to live warmly with my siblings and people.”

A deity known as the god of warrior is considered the god of sun and incarnation of the sun. He was also the patron god of the Aztecs and the capital city of Tenochtitlan. He wielded a weapon called Xiuhcoatl, the fire serpent, and used different weapons in his arsenal during the war field. People believed that they needed human sacrifice to strengthen their efforts.

Bond 2:

Personality

Extroverted, calm yet vibe older brother.

He is a bloodthirsty warrior, aggressive to a fault yet self-sacrificed to defend his people. Until he manifested a body, his host influenced his mind more. He is becoming a lovely older brother and extroverted. His host has a mindset as a mage, and martial arts influence his critical thinking and strategy. He does not hesitate or doesn't think about himself and only thinks he protects others. He is like a big brother who lectures to others or is playful with a smile. During the battle, he is more calm and collective. He is quite a gentleman, and caring comes to others.

He gives off as someone who is enjoying his retirement. When it comes to his routine, it is frightening. He woke up very early to practice for the taijutsu basics, then practiced his magecraft, which involved materializing objects and familiarizing all varieties of weapons.

Bond 3:

As he was defined as the most powerful and honored deity on Earth within the Aztec world, other Aztec deities feared his existence and, at some point, tried to kill him. In the myths, he was a minor hunting god of the Mexica. He is the deity who guided the Mexuca people to the Valley of Mexico from their previous home. He commanded the building of a city known as Tenochtitlan, which became the capital of the Aztec Empire. Then was worshipped as the god of the sun and became the fifth sun. When the Aztecs established their new environment and quickly replaced a Tonatiuh, the sun god, Aztecs believed their worship involved human sacrifice to be his strength effort not only that they also sacrificed the warriors who died in battle.

In the earliest origin myths of Huitzilopochtli, he is described as the fourth and final son of Ometecuhtli and Omecihuatl. During the first 600 years of his life, Huitzilopochtli was born without flesh, but only a bone, and remained fleshless. Huitzilopochtli and his brothers created the world and its laws after 600 years had passed following the events that took place 600 years before. There is a version of that Coatlicue that saw hummingbird feathers fall from the sky. When she picked up, she became pregnant with Huitzilopochtil. In some versions, he protects his mother or avenges the murder of his mother against Couolzauhqui and defeats his siblings, Centzonhuītznāhua.

Bond 4:

Fifth Sun: A

He replaces Nanahuatzin as the new sun of the Aztecs.

Tezcatl Eye: EX

An ability that is the eye is like a second mana cord with magic circuits out of the body. There is clairvoyance and kinetic eyesight, which is gained to see things other than average, like seeing the inner energy of the life of all nonliving and living creatures. Can predict and know the opponent slowly. This can copy other mage’s magecraft and memorizing. There is a second phase of this eye, which can evolve and change the shape of the eye’s user, and it can use all the elements to control the opponent physically and mentally. The last ability is unique and exclusive to a person. Is still unknown of his ability because he didn’t use it during the time when he was summoned. Currently uses half the power of the Tezcatl Eye. Tezcatl Eye is only passed down to the Morarseu Clan. An unknown clan or a hidden clan was unknowingly destroyed in 1994—no record about the hidden clan, only the death of the people, and don’t know if their any survivors in the timelines of Fate/Stay Night series or Fate/Grand Order from any organization.

Solar: A

Using his own mana core connects the earth's planet to the solar sun.

Bond 5:

『Xiuhcoatl Moraresu』

Rank: EX

NP Type: Anti-Army Noble Phantasm

Range: 30-40

Maximum Targets: 100 people

Sol Blade Creation

A Noble Phantasm that creates an unlimited variety of weapons and changes the Planet field as wildfire. The place is a unique marble phantasm, sent back to the Aztec War period from the fallen wildfire field with ruined temples of the Tenochtitlan field of different weapons. He connects to the planet Earth and connects his imagination or views as his sword is morphed into a materialization. Mini energy of weapons provided by thearthet went toward his sword to complete his sword, revealing his blade in his hands. A single swing of his sword can cut the law of physics.

The blade’s name: is Xiuhcoatl Moraresu. Xiuhcoatl was a mythological serpent as a spirit form of Xiuhtecuhli. Become a weapon wielded by Huitzilopochtli. Xiuhcoatl is called a symbolic and descriptive of “fire serpent.” Xiuhcoatl is interpreted as the embodiment of the dry season and was the weapon of the sun. Moraresu is the surname of the host. It represents Huitzilopochtli using his magecraft called Atom magecraft to help his divine to create Marble Phantasm. Also, Moraresu is half-Japanese and used his influence mindset and knowledge of modern. To know Xiuhtecuhli's kind of weapon would then materialize it as a twist-shaped katana.

“As this sun fades away to become the blade who reaches this inner world. I used many weapons on this bloody battlefield, I will create the blade that I desire. Ahora ven a mí mi Xiuhcoatl Moraresu!”

Identity:

Huitzilopochtli, is a Saber Class Pseudo Servant summoned by Yukari Akiwara. He confirmed himself as a Servant and not a Grand Servant in my OC timelines of Grand/Order. Later on, Ritsuka Fujimaru of Chaldea was summoned as a still Saber.

Huitzilopochtli is a eagle deity. He was the tribal god of the Aztec people, known both as a war god and as the incarnation of the sun. The Aztecs worshipped Huitzilopochtli as the sun, causing many deaths and human sacrifices. Guided by Huizlipochtil, the Aztecs quickly largely replaced a Tonatiuh temple around the capital city of Tenochtitlan. Huitziopochtli defeated many deities in the Aztec world.

He is the final and youngest sibling and is known as the loyal and ruthless god of war, yet some myths are out of character, as he wants to protect the people or his mother. Many Divine Spirits are represented as Huitzilopochtli uses his divinity power like Tenochtitlan, the dinosaur king, and Tezcatlipoca. At some point, an aspect of him is known as Blue Tezcatlipocas from Tezcatlipoca. Can’t be summoned fully self as the god of the sun. The Servant Huitzilopochtli is a Pseudo-Servant but summoned with a human vessel named Moraresu Isamu (モラレスイサム) and also Saint Graphs identity as the god of warriors before he was known as the god of sun.

Dialogue

Summoned:

"Are you the Master? I'm Huitzilopochtli, the god of warriors. My class is Saber as a Psudeo-Servant. Let get along well, right, Master."

Summoned (Clear Shatterzone 7):

"Saber, Huitzilopochtli. Well well well, this is interesting. It looks like I'm on your side now, and I hope we get along. I will serve you as my Master."

Relationship:

Cuauhtémoc (OC):

“Cuauhtémoc is some what unique when we hangout. The first time was pretty funny. When I saw her, she gave off a vibe of an elegant lady but she was a fan girl when it come around me. I didn’t expect that from her."

MORARSEU (Caster)(OC):

“Well, well, their another person named MORARSEU. Perhaps he may have known my vessel?”

Tezcatlipoca:

"Big bro, how are you doing? Doing well after calling me the fake Huitzilopochtli and fake Grand Saber and then already giving me the nickname Eaglet. It was a bit disappointing. I thought you could change it a bit. But still, you are my older brother and still my family. I hope this time we spend our time as a family, big bro.

Quetzalcoatl:

“So you also summoned as a pseudo-servant, but why? I will just let this slide because you are you. I hope there is no fight between you and Big Bro. What now? Should I call you sister? Huh, Oneechan, then.”

Kukulkan:

“Huh? Kukulkan from the Mayan deity? This is confusing. She is a different Kukulkan than I know. So she is the sun from the lostbelt. Interesting, a new god and a new sun are rising. A new of myamily…Do you want to know if I would win against ORT-Kukulkan as my Saber Class?...... Nah, I’d Win.”

Tenochtitlan:

“So she is the embodiment of the city from Tenochtitlan. Que linda pequeña hermanita that I have. I hope we will have fun and go around the place. Master… Since I was summoned and here, you would not be alone with mi pequeña hermanita.”

Ozymandias:

“So that guy is known as king of God and the sun….I do respect him and did well as a ruler but I don’t need to worry about him.”

Senji Muramasa:

“Isn’t that one of the well-known blacksmiths, too? His blade is full of power and the will of the flame, but I can still block with my hands. Hehe.”

Karna:

“So he is Karna the son of the sun god. He should relied on other than his spear. He could join me in my routine.”

Miyamoto Musashi (LOST DATA):

“You tell me Muasahi from Alternate universe. She is completely different from I know. She is simple to get along with, and during sparring, she has indeed lived up to the title of the greatest swordmaster, but still, the Musashi I know can really make me not hold back. Maybe she can also join me in my routine with other servants.”

Miyamoto Musashi (OC):

“We finally met in Chaldea. Do you want to catch up or use the blade of our world like the old time with our previous Master?”

(He is the proper human history version and Saber Class. They were summoned by a Master named Yukari Akiwara before Ritsuka Fujimaru. That is how they met the first time.)

Cynthia:

“You also here, too? I guess Yukari’s team is back. Don’t lie to me again or use me for money making.”

(She is a pretender and the goddess of the moon from Greek mythology, as Selene is the goddess of the moon. She is also often identified as Artemis, the goddess of hunting. Her true names are Selene and Cythina, and Cythina is from the Sextus Propertius and the four bok of Elegis. She was summoned with Musashi, Huitzilopochtli with her previous Master. The funny part is that Cythina and her Master lied to him to materialize his physical form to help them with an event. But Huitzilopochtli was working as the butler then earning some quick cash because of his popularity.)

Iori Muuasahi:

“Well, we finally met, so tell me, how was your old man back when you were young? I bet it was hard to get along at first, right, or it was only me.”

Gorō Nyūdō Masamune (OC):

“That blacksmith.. I don’t know I feel he is a rival. He gives off a dangerous vibe when we sparring. Perhaps it is him or his host. Who knows, but still, he is a friendly great-grandpa.”

Celeste (OC):

“That girl, she oddly very friendly to me? What did I do to earn her trust? This is the first time I ever met her.”

(She is a rider class servant. She is the daughter of Andromeda from Greek myths and she is lostdata. She is from an alternate universe or maybe a distant future whose timeline is unknown. Her personality is similar to her mother's, but she doesn’t reveal who her father is.)

Asahina Gozen (OC):

"Gozen, I know them. Isn't he the one who defeats Masamune during the Shatterzone 5? I would love to see that battle. I bet the great-grandpa was in a cage and selling as a slave, Right....uhhhhu RIGHT?"

(Asahina Gozen is a lostbelt or a different version of Asahina Yoshihide and a Saber Class. He is from the Yōsei Nihon and a half-Yōsei who is from a clan of ōni. He is the strongest Yōsei Samurai in Yōsei Nihon. This version has the memory of his pan-human history and also adopted by the ruler of Yōsei Nihon named Umiko Hizumi)

Fusō (OC):

"Wow, isn't she the tyrant queen of Yōsei Nihon? No, it is her younger version, known as Fusō the Saviour and Fusō the Witch. I don't know but I have a bad vibe from her is not of her personlity but it her mana. Maybe she can also use marble phantasm.

(Fusō is a Caster class and lostbelt of Umiko Hizumi. An unknown person that has no record in the historical records but somehow connects to the Throne of Heroes. Her purpose is to cast the Wold's Mana in the Yōsei Nihon. Like her future adopted son, she also received memories in different way of Pan-Human History Umiko Hizumi. Fusō was the Inner Sea of the Plaent of her purpose. Hizumi is an older sister of the "Creation of Magecraft" lost in the record and Hizumi is a woman of selfish witch that wants to rule humanity in her own way)

Something you Like:

"Something I like is quite simple: my family, my people, and others who support me, like you, Master."

Something you Hate:

"What do I hate? I don’t really know. I know there are many things I can hate, like misunderstandings and my siblings, but I can’t hate them."

About the Holy Grail:

"You mean that energy supply? I’m not really that interested. I just want to focus on the extra time in Chaldea and also want to spend with my brother and sisters."

#fgo #fate grand order #fgo oc #trashy oc #fgo fanservant #fate fanservant #fate #fanart #oc #servant oc #fanservant #fate series #Huitzilopochtli #Meixco #orginal character #my art

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noirscript · 10 days ago

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in the lion's keep

WARNING/S: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Yandere. Noncon. Dubcon. Power Imbalance. Forced Pregnancy. Captivity. Manipulation. Psychological and Physical Control. Violence. Emotional Distress. Character/s: King Callixto x Servant!Reader Note/s: A commission for @violetvase. I hope you enjoy this one!

From this series: Silent Servitude [pt. 1] | The Lion's Shadow [pt. 3]

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Your mother has always been your biggest supporter.

She never once stifled your dreams, no matter how small or ambitious they were. When you insisted on selling flowers in the town square on behalf of the old florist to earn your own keep, she worried, but she did not stop you. Your parents feared for your safety, but your older siblings watched over you, making sure no harm would come your way.

It lasted for months—until children your age began disappearing, vanishing one after another without a trace.

Your siblings stopped letting you leave the house after that. The warm sun, the scent of fresh bread in the marketplace, the laughter of the townsfolk—it all became distant, mere memories behind locked doors. You were forced to watch the world from behind wooden shutters, longing for the life you had barely begun to taste.

Years passed before they finally deemed it safe enough for you to step outside again. And when you did, you threw yourself into rebuilding.

With what little savings you had, you opened a food stall in the marketplace, selling treats that made both children and adults smile. Your business thrived. Customers returned with praises, telling you how much they enjoyed your cooking. It gave you a sense of purpose, a taste of the independence you had long craved.

Then, one night, your stall was stolen

Not just stolen—destroyed. Burned to ashes near the town's tavern.

No one saw anything. No one heard anything. No one even smelled the smoke.

The loss devastated you, snuffing out the fragile hope you had so desperately clung to. When you fell deeper into despair, your mother was the one who lifted you back up. She taught you the skills she had learned from years of working in the palace—how to clean, how to serve, how to navigate the world of nobility without drawing attention to yourself. You listened. You learned. And when she deemed you ready, you followed in her footsteps.

You had thought you were stepping toward a new beginning.

Instead, you walked straight into a gilded cage.

A warm calloused hand rubs slow circles over your bare stomach. Your body is sore, ruined, yet the touch is deceptively gentle—reverent even.

Callixto.

The King.

The man who had stolen you, body and soul, and refused to let go.

His breath is hot against your neck as he presses his lips there, inhaling you like a man intoxicated. He traces his fingers up your stomach, over your ribs, cupping your breast with possessive ease. You squeeze your eyes shut, bile rising in your throat as last night's memories resurface—the way he held you down, the way he filled you over and over until you were too weak to fight him.

“You're perfect,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against your back. “You'll be a wonderful mother to our children. The mother of my heirs… My queen.”

No.

Your breath shudders as you push weakly at his arm, but you might as well be trying to move stone. Your body betrays you—limp exhausted, drained of all strength.

How long has it been?

Days? Weeks?

You can't tell. The chamber windows are tinted, making it impossible to see the sun or the moon. And Callixto… Callixto never leaves your side for long. He lingers, watching you, touching you, whispering sweet, poisonous words into your ear.

The chambermaid is no help, either.

She either glares at you with thinly veiled disdain or ignores you completely, doing only what is required of her. You don't know why she hates you, but it doesn't matter. She's your warden all the same.

There's no one here for you. No mother, no siblings. No bustling marketplace or warm, flickering hearth waiting for you at home.

There's only this prison.

And him.

“Your Majesty,” the chambermaid's voice cuts through the heavy silence. “Lord Soleil awaits you at the gates.”

Callixto tenses, as if irritated by the reminder that the outside world still exists beyond these walls. His fingers dig into your hip as he thrusts forward once more, a sharp, punishing movement that sends a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you.

He finishes deep inside you, groaning against your skin. For a moment, he stays there, reveling in the feeling. Then, with agonizing care, he pulls out—only to press his fingers back inside, pushing his seed deeper.

A shiver wracks your body.

“I suppose I've stolen enough time for myself,” he murmurs, brushing damp hair away from your face.

You force yourself not to flinch.

Callixto cups your chin, tilting your face towards his. His golden eyes burn with something twisted, something sickeningly sweet. Then, he kisses you. A deep, lingering kiss that suffocates you more than any chain ever could.

“Stay here and be good,” he orders, his lips still brushing yours. “Let the chambermaid take care of you until I return.”

As if you have a choice.

As if you ever had a choice.

And when the doors finally close behind him, your body sags into the mattress, silent tears slipping down your cheeks.

Not just for yourself.

But for the family you may never see again.

For the freedom that may never return.

And for the life that is no longer your own.

The towering walls of the chateau couldn't keep the rumors from reaching you. They were the only thing that kept you sane while you waited for him to return.

You heard whispers about a grand ball the Prime Minister held a few nights ago. It should've been a night of celebration, but instead, it ended in scandal. His wife, a noble woman and the daughter of a count, was caught in bed with a mere footman—nothing more than a commoner.

Lord Soleil, the Prime Minister, himself had walked in on them. The punishment was swift.

The footman was cast out with nothing, and the Prime Minister cut all ties with his wife and her family, erasing them from his life as if they had never existed.

A cruel fate.

And yet you wondered…

Was it any crueler than yours?

“Perhaps this is why Lord Soleil was so determined to keep His Majesty away from the chateau—away from me. Not just to protect the royal bloodline, but to stop him from making the same mistake his wife did.” You sighed, your breath barely disturbing the still air.

“I can't even blame him. If I were in his position, I wouldn't want a common-born woman anywhere near the throne either. And yet, here I am—trapped in these gilded walls, reduced to nothing more than a vessel, waiting for the day my body finally serves its purpose.”

You leaned against the cool stone wall near the tinted windows, listening to the little birds outside as they carried rumors flitting between the flower beds. Their chatter was a fleeting distraction, a fragile moment of stolen peace—until it was shattered by the sound of heavy boots echoing through the halls.

The doors flew open, and there he stood. The King. Furious.

He called out your name—sharp, urgent, unrelenting—his voice slicing through the chateau hollow corridors like a blade. You didn't move. You barely even breathed. Instead, you pressed yourself against the cold stone wall, your fingers curling into your dress as his footsteps thundered across the marble floors.

He ran upstairs, frantic, taking the steps two at a time. He hadn't even noticed you standing near the windows, so close yet unseen. But you knew it wouldn't last. He always found you in the end.

Outside, the world had fallen eerily silent. The chattering birds had already fled the vicinity, as if sensing the storm brewing within these walls—taking their half-spun whispers with them. The rumor of the king's impending nuptials to a high-ranking noble still lingered in the air, unspoken yet suffocating.

And soon, he would come back down. And this time, he would see you.

Your name tore from his lips again—a furious, desperate plea. Before you could react, his hands found you, his grip ironclad around your arms.

“Where have you been?” His voice was raw, unsteady. His fingers dug in. “Didn't you hear me calling for you?”

“Y-Your Majesty…”

He shook his head. “No—my name.”

Bloodshot, unfocused eyes bore into you. Something was wrong. His gaze sent a slow, creeping dread up your spine.

“Say it.”

“C-Callixto…”

A slow nod. Then, his arms crushed you against him. “You're mine,” he murmured against your hair, his breath searing against your skin. “Forever mine. And I will be forever yours.”

The walls seemed to shrink around you.

“Callixto… Your Majesty… I can't breathe—” you rasped, struggling against his suffocating embrace.

He didn't let go.

“Please…”

A beat of silence. Then, at last, he loosened his grip—but only slightly.

“Apologies, my queen,” he murmured, lifting your trembling hand to his lips.

Your pulse pounded in your ears. You had to calm him. You had to survive this.

You recalled your mother's old ways—how she soothed your father's anger, how she tamed your brothers’ tempers. Slowly, carefully, you reached for his cheek, brushing your fingers against his skin.

“Tell me your worries…”

“The royal court has been trying to push this woman onto me for as long as I can remember—something about securing the heir to the throne’s bloodline. The nerve of those fools,” he muttered, absently running his fingers through your hair as you lay atop him.

“If I wanted to, I could trace your family's lineage—alter it if necessary— and keep them out of our way.”

Listening to his monologue as you drift in and out of consciousness feels more exhausting than it should. You know you should try to persuade him to accept the will of his people, to yield to their demands—but deep down, you wonder if it would be easier if someone else had his full attention instead. If only he'd let you go.

“Perhaps we should secure an heir to the throne first… then we can look into your lineage…” he whispered, thrusting into you once more. His seed spilled from you as his movements grew more intense with every passing second.

Since then, it had become his ritual to fill you to the brim, keeping you in place—stuffed, trembling, and utterly his— until he was satisfied. Only then would he leave to rule his kingdom, but never without ensuring you remained exactly as he left you, his claim unmistakable. He controlled everything—the meals you ate, the tonics you drank—all carefully chosen to prepare your body for the sole purpose of carrying his heir.

You were his, and soon, you would bear proof of it.

It didn't take long for the signs to show.

The nausea. The exhaustion. The unbearable weight in your lower belly that told you something had taken root inside you.

And yet, luck has not abandoned you entirely.

Your chambermaid—a woman whose disdain for you was only rivaled by her loyalty to the royal court—had noticed. She must have. But instead of betraying your condition, she pressed a cold cloth to your forehead and muttered, “A commoner’s flu. Nothing more.”

A lie. A calculated one.

The King believed her.

But belief was fragile in a mind like his. It splintered easily.

His golden eyes flicked between the chambermaid and the royal physician, narrowed and gleaming, hungry for an answer that neither of them dared to give.

“Her color is pale,” Callixto murmured, pacing your chambers. His fingers twitched—fidgeting, trembling, curling into claws before stretching straight again. “She barely eats, barely moves. And yet you say it is nothing?”

The physician bowed his head. “It is a seasonal illness, Your Majesty. A touch of fever, some exhaustion—nothing that cannot be cured with rest.”

Callixto laughed—a dry, humorless sound. His nails dug into his palms, leaving little crescent moons of pain.

“Rest,” he echoed. His voice was a whisper of rage, of something darker crawling beneath his skin. “You think I have not noticed? She wilts before my very eyes, and you tell me to wait?”

The chambermaid stepped forward then, expression schooled into reluctant sympathy. “Your Majesty, she is weak. He kind does not fare well in the colder months. It is not surprising.”

Callixto stilled. His breathing slowed, deliberate, controlled—but his eyes never left her face.

“Weak?” The word came soft, almost thoughtful. “Is that what you believed?”

The chambermaid hesitated.

Something in the air shifted.

A warning.

Callixto's lips twitched—not in a smile, no. In something sharper. Something that showed his teeth.

“Fine,” he murmured. “If she must rest, then she will do so under your watchful eye. I want no one else near her.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

But as the King turned away, the chambermaid gaze flicked down—her fingers twitching at the pouch hidden beneath her apron. The weight of the promised coin.

The chateau felt emptier than ever one evening. The halls echoed with the distant clatter of preparations from the palace—the banquet, the foreign dignitaries, the noble guests.

A distraction.

And when the chambermaid entered your chambers, her usual sneer was absent. Instead, she carried a bundle of clothing.

“You need to leave tonight.”

Your stomach twisted. “Why?”

“Because I tire of wiping your sweat.” She threw the bundle onto your bed. “Because I want you gone.”

You swallowed hard. “And that's all?”

The chambermaid exhaled sharply. Something in her posture—something tired and worn—hinted at an answer she would never give.

“The palace gates will be open for the banquet. No one will be watching the chateau. Take the back corridors, follow the outer gardens. You are not important enough to be noticed.”

“What do you gain from this?”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “What I was promised.”

You should've asked by whom. But you didn't.

The scream shattered the night.

“WHERE IS SHE?”

The chambermaid barely had time to compose herself before the doors to your chambers slammed open, cracking wood against stone.

Callixto stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with each uneven breath. His pupils had swallowed the gold of his irises, leaving only thin rings of amber around black pits. His fingers curled at his sides, nails digging into his own skin, but he did not seem to notice the blood welling beneath them.

His gaze snapped to the bed. Empty.

Something inside him snapped with it.

“Where is she?” he repeated, stepping forward, his voice no longer a demand but a plea.

The chambermaid bowed, but her voice was steady. “Resting, Your Majesty. The fever worsened—”

“Liar.”

The word cut through the room like a blade. The chambermaid flinched.

Callixto's hands trembled. “She would not leave her bed unless someone forced her to,” he whispered. His tongue darted out, wetting his dry lips. “Unless someone… took her from me.”

He turned, suddenly—too suddenly—and grabbed the chambermaid’s wrist.

“You would not betray me, would you?”

The chambermaid swallowed.

“Of course not, Your Majesty.”

His grip tightened. Bones creaked.

“No, of course not,” he echoed, smiling now—serpentine, sharp. His head tilted. “Because if you had…” he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I would tear this palace apart. Brick by brick. And when I found her—oh, when I found her—”

He released her.

“Find her,” he murmured. “Or I will find you instead.”

The chambermaid bowed, stepping backward toward the door. “As you command.”

But she didn't turn fast enough to see his lips curl into something… inhuman.

He turned back to the empty bed, trailing a hand over the sheets as if he could still feel you there. His fingers ghosted over where your head had once rested, then curled into the pillow, dragging it close. He inhaled—deeply, desperately—like a starving man before a feast.

His eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh, my love,” he whispered to no one. “You can run, but you cannot hide.”

The night air was crip—freezing against your cheeks, but blissfully free.

You ran. Through the outer gardens, past the dim lanterns, past the drunken guards too enamored with wine and revelry to notice a shadow slipping past them.

You ran until the scent of the palace faded into the trees.

Home. You had to go home.

But when you reached the village outskirts, you stopped.

Guards. Stationed outside your family's home.

You shrank into the shadows, heart hammering against your ribs. From where you hid, you could see the single candle in the window—dim, unmoving.

Not flickering.

Not alive.

A silent warning: Do not return.

Tears burned your eyes, but you forced yourself to turn away.

Not toward another village. Not toward a stranger's mercy.

But deeper into the forest.

Through the twisting paths only you knew, past the moss-covered stones and the brook where you once dipped your toes in summer. Past the memories. Past the ghosts.

And there, hidden beneath the tangle of overgrown branches, the shack still stood.

You and your siblings built it once—when you were small, when the world was gentler. A childish hideaway, pieced together from stolen nails and planks too weathered to be missed. A place of whispered secrets and stolen sweets, of giggling beneath a roof that bare kept the rain out.

It was nothing.

But it was enough.

You pushed the warped door open and stepped inside, the scent of damp wood wrapping around you like an old embrace. The cold bit at your skin, but you knew how to survive here. You always had.

With shaking hands, you pressed your back against the wall and slid to the floor.

Outside, the trees whispered.

Somewhere beyond them, the King was hunting.

But you would not be an easy prey.

Not here. Not yet.

—

tbc.

—

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