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Fifth King

My name is Shaytan. Just Shaytan. I get up at five o'clock every morning then I eat my cereal, fried eggs, or toast. After that, I brush my teeth for about three minutes trying really hard to avoid any contact with the damn bogey living in the mirror. I have a roommate, a werewolf. We are best friends and also classmates. After school, I work as a bartender in a nearby pub, where apart from your regular humans, other creatures also get together for a drink. Aside from these little things, I lived a pretty normal life until my everydays got completely fucked up. The peacefulness of the night seems to be over, the Fifth King is preparing for war — perhaps for world domination —, and common sense has evaporated somewhere along the way. And somehow, I got right in the middle of this glorious mess.

ErenaWrites · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
89 Chs

Fifth King

Life is not a bottomless cup of latte all the way.

Fifth King

Alex didn't blame me for arriving late at night. He didn't mention my nightmare either. He never did, he didn't need to do it. His look was more eloquent than a thousand words. He just stared at me, his heartbeat pounding with as painful and kind melody as ever when I woke up at night with a sore throat, panting.

I was sure as he was looking at me, he could almost hear my screams in his ears. I screamed that night until my voice was gone. When I woke up, I immediately glanced at Alex's bed. The wolf pretended to be innocently sleeping like he was deaf — and I was secretly grateful for that.

My pride just couldn't bear the fact that someone saw me so weak and vulnerable, and Alex understood this without words by my first nightmare years ago. As long as he could ignore these dreams stinking of anger and bitterness, I too could ignore the fact that someone had learned about them. I could still deceive myself by saying that everything was okay. Nothing was okay — but I would have liked everything so desperately to be okay.

I knew he was suspecting something. When he burned his hand one morning and screamed barely audibly, I was immediately beside him. He didn't even realize what had happened, I was already asking him about it.

At that moment pain flashed in his eyes that had nothing to do with the burning wound on his hand. Grumbling sleepily, I headed towards our room so I wouldn't have to face the worry hidden in his eyes.

Alex suspected the truth, yet he didn't ask. He knew I wouldn't answer anyway. Not because I didn't want to lie to him, as a matter of fact, I lie without batting an eye if it's necessary and even if it's not. It just wouldn't have made sense. Wolves can smell lies.

Alex has known me for longer than anyone else, so he knew perfectly well that there was a boundary around me that I wouldn't let him step across. When he decided to stay with me, he had to accept this.

So, Alex has been waiting patiently for me to answer his unasked questions ever since. No, Alex was neither naive nor dense; rather when he was betrayed by the whole world, I was his only refuge. I think, from that day forward, he has been determined to believe in me blindly.

Morning arrived mercilessly and I, as always, had a hard time waking up. Then, jumping on one leg, I put on my socks and ate the breakfast Alex had prepared. Everything seemed as normal as if the night hadn't even happened.

When the grey demon cat entered the kitchen, I gave it a sharp look but remained silent. Since Alex wasn't questioning me about my things, I didn't want to quarrel over the cat. Sooner or later, I will get rid of it anyway. Hopefully sooner.

(...)

I called Coffee aside at lunch, and though she looked at me a little ugly for disturbing her coffee break, she followed me silently. I got straight to the point.

"What are the ferocious ignobles and dealers looking for?"

Coffee didn't seem surprised, which was pretty worrying.

"I have no idea," she admitted, her voice ominously calm, "I think maybe they're scouting."

"What's the purpose?"

"One of the kings is making a move, he wants territory."

I wasn't too pleased with this information. Most of the country, particularly its dark side, is governed by four 'kings.' The Crimson King is the ruler of vampires, presiding over the western region of our small country and most of Austria. It is rumored that he holds immense power even among vampires, supposedly belonging to the first-generation ancestors.

However, it seems that the renowned wisdom of the vampire king has evaporated into thin air if he intends to turn against the other three kings — especially since I've heard that he gets along quite well with the southern lord.

"Is Crimson out of his mind or what?" I inquired doubtfully, and Coffee shook his head quietly.

"I was talking about the 'Fifth King.'"

The blood froze in my veins. I'm not stupid; I've also heard rumors that another powerhouse popped up out of the blue — I just didn't want to believe it.

"Fifth?" I asked.

Coffee frowned but eventually decided to answer.

"My father is pretty involved," she said.

The situation must be quite worrying if even the old bat is interested. Coffee's father is also a relative of the first-generation ancestors and the king of bloodsuckers, so he must be about two thousand years old.

"Allegedly, some half-blood monster is collecting and dominating the ignoble vampires across the country. His army must be huge since we didn't really care about the ignobles as long as they followed our rules. I don't know what he promises, but there are huge troops behind him, and the number is growing rapidly. He is probably preparing for war against South."

"Wonderful," I snorted.

Will my city seriously become the site of a huge bloodbath now?

"Leave it to my father and Crimson." Maybe Coffee could feel my concern because she touched my arm hesitantly. Maybe it was meant to be an encouragement. "We can't do anything anyway, let the lords settle the issue with each other. After all, another war would not benefit anyone."

"You're right," I nodded.

Indeed, no one would benefit from humans realizing our existence.

After that, we went back to the classroom for an amazing double literature class. You know, I loved the subject itself, I just hated the teacher like the fairies hate iron. So, our relationship wasn't good for several reasons. First of all, she was human. And second, she was closer to sixty than my taste required. But still, my last and most compelling reason was that she was always yelling at the class, as is expected in a rubber room dressed in a proper pink little straitjacket.

Seriously, you could hear her teaching a class in room two-hundred-and-one even at the end of the hallway. I swear if this goes on like this, I will demand compensation from the school for my hearing loss. You can imagine that I was going through hell itself, as my hearing is somewhat sharper than that of humans. The life of an informant is really hard — I sighed to myself.

I played nonchalantly with my cross pendant and watched uninterested as the teacher talked about some poems with great enthusiasm. Now then you might think that I am a believer. You couldn't be more wrong. Then why am I wearing a cross? It reminds me that I am not human. I can never become human. Because there is no place in the world that can accommodate me.

For some reason, I have always stood out from the crowd: as if it had been written on my forehead that I was different from everyone and could never be equal to anyone. I'm more than an average human, less than a purebred noble, different than a half-blood - I'm always on the edge, but I don't really belong anywhere. Some spit on me, some look up to me, but no one can ignore my existence. I'm an anomaly in the world, a phenomenon you can't just get by.

You know, there are very few half-bloods in the world, barely a handful. Few, but no doubt there are some. But I've never heard of anything like myself. Though impossible, I still exist, the child of a half-blood and a human: a mixed-blood.

My father was half-vampire and half-fae, and my mother was human. There are three bloodlines present in me, something that has never occurred before. Did you know that fae are afraid of iron? Even the slightest touch causes them burns and beautiful blisters. Although drops from the ancient blood are flowing through my veins, my iron pendant is merely itching, it does not cause any permanent damage; it simply makes me aware of its presence and continues to malevolently swing in front of my chest.

Similarly, to the fear of iron, I inherited only a small portion of the unquenchable thirst for blood from my ancestors. I don't need any hocus pocus against the sun — my eyes are still sensitive though, and as the light from the sun gets stronger, sunglasses become an essential part of my face.

Just like the weaknesses, the strengths of the two races seem to be not so outstanding in my case. Vampires are the strongest of monsters. Well, I'm not much stronger than an average monster. Fae are the fastest in my world. I inherited a little more of this, yet I can't be compared to the moon-eyed folks. Although the infamous cruelty of the fae slumbers deep within me and comes to life with the full moon, it begins to fade to the background again with the waxing gibbous.

Anyway, I wouldn't care so much about these issues if I didn't have to fight all monsters' hatred — though for most it's mutual. Because the majority has pureblood mania. Sure, there's Alex and Coffee, but not everyone is so open to the products of blood corruption. In a nutshell, it sucks to be a mixed-blood.

It was no surprise that Alex didn't go home together with me. In fact, I thought I would be missing his company for a while. I would have bet he launched an arbitrary investigation into the nasty case of dangerous bloodsuckers.

There was a devilish smile on my lips. It can only mean one thing: enough time to get rid of the cat. Anyway, I thought I'd rather eat something first. I was in such a shitty mood that day that no matter how many times I passed the buffet, I never once tried to freeload on any unfortunate kid. I just didn't feel like it. Honestly, I never thought this day would come.

Since the fridge didn't offer anything worth consuming, I opted for the five-minute packaged dry soup. Either that or starving – quite a shitty situation. I heated the water with the microwave. Once the base was there, I added the contents of the sachet and covered the bowl to make it ready sooner.

I almost threw everything out of my hands when something rubbed against my leg. I think the cursed demon cat mistook me for Alex because he even sweetly purred during the operation. I could feel my face twist with a grimace from disgust, and I seriously thought about kicking the cat with due strength so that it wouldn't even stop by the window. But at least I realized that its elimination is top priority because this spiritual terror cannot be tolerated anymore.

I decided to give the demon cat another chance before I sent it to damnation, and instead of immediate execution, I just pushed it away with my foot, but quite meaningfully. At this, it tilted its head to the side, meowing questioningly and indignantly.

I was suddenly tempted to tear out the whiskers of this abomination one by one. I gave it such a sharp look that it immediately ran under the table. After that, I ate my soup with a victorious smile. I placed the plate in the sink and went through the house, all the way to our room. Alex's bed always looked messy, but now he'd even complemented the picture by throwing his clothes on the floor.

It was said that in the evening it would rain again, so I started looking in my closet for my leather jacket. When I found it, I threw it on the bed and headed to the bathroom.

"Hi there, sweetie!" Berry greeted me, rightfully earning one of my nasty killer looks.

"Shut up and disappear," I growled, standing in front of the mirror.

"Come on, what's with you?" my reflection asked with a wide grin, "You're in a bad mood again, little Shay?"

"Do I have to repeat myself?" I threatened.

The situation finally got through Berry's head, and the image of the mirror slowly took over my facial expression as he left. I watched the features for a few more seconds to make sure he was really gone. After that, I got rid of my clothes and took a quick shower. I love cold water – it reminds me of the rain. Sometimes the rain falls so scarily and heavily, but other times it is so sweet, caressing the flowers and trees. I really like the rain.

After that, I did not spend too much time at home, I quickly picked up a few more things and left the apartment behind with the useless cat, and set off to work.