Confront

"Father, the winner is me."

Machia stood over the king's crumpled figure. Struck straight through the heart, his large figure was left bleeding on the cold throne room floor alongside the Emperor. Slowly, it returned to its original withered state, joining the other old corpse accompanying the floor.

"I bet I know exactly what was going on in that head of yours, Father. Make it my last mercy, I permitted you to dream of that, in your final moments, however..."

Talking to no one in particular, Machia climbed the stage, mumbling to himself. Sat precariously on the dishevelled stone throne, Machia gazed over the two bodies strewn across the floor. 

"The winner is still me."

Machia announced his victory with a miserable indifference. There was no one around to hear it. Looking at his single blood-soaked arm, Machia sighed as he leaned back in his seat, avoiding the gory sights surrounding him. Physically and emotionally overwhelmed, he could feel himself slip into a daze. But he knew better than to believe his dreams would provide him any comfort, and so his eyes remained open. 

 'Last time I checked, it was a day away... so maybe I have a few hours to rest.'

Machia wished to ponder. He desired nothing more than to be left alone with his thoughts. To console himself over what he had lost, to process it. The throne room was generously dark and cold, providing him with the perfect opportunity to mope. However, alone in that darkness, he instead sensed a fleeting comfort that felt entirely undeserved.

'Huh, I guess now that I think about it.'

In a way, he had completely succeeded in both his goals. She was safe, and the kingdom was, his. But an unnecessary degree of hardship had occurred; he had lost a lot, almost too much, in the process.

'Maybe I should have at least said goodbye.'

Machia rested his eyes for simply a moment. That sombre relief lasted only a moment as, with a sigh, his eyes opened once more.

"... I wondered where you'd gone off to. What exactly do you think you're doing?."

Machia finally noticed them. A pair of pale white eyes leered at him from the furthest corner of the throne room. Those hollow, dead eyes stared at Machia on his throne with an empty contempt. Machia addressed the creature with great authority, yet it remained silent and defiantly shrouded in the shadows.

"Ha, haha, I must be really out of it at this point! Just what is happening here."

Above, behind and in front. Three more pairs of gleaming ghostly pale eyes stared intensely at Machia. Rather than shiver in fear, Machia relaxed as he turned his head, amused, to each figure, as he scanned the room with intrigue. He fought to resist the ugly grin that slowly warped itself onto his face. But it was useless. 

"I lose everything. But then I lose even more, ha. Just who do you think it is you're looking at right now?"

As if challenged by his words, hooves scraped across the stone ground. A staggering figure rose from behind the throne, bulging and growing in size. Its new proportions caused it to rest its enormous body and head against the roof. The structure was only saved because the creature had lowered its head to leer at Machia with deep pale pupils. 

The timid entity that Machia had first laid his eyes on then approached from the front. The little taps of noise echoed throughout the building. What came into view was a tiny, hooved figure. With pale, distorted eyes that shimmered in the darkness, it spoke without even a twitch of its snout. 

'We've waited a long time for this.'

Ignoring the enormous beast raising its head behind him, Machia was reminded of something. Something he had long forgotten. 

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Alone in the darkness of the forest, Machia wondered. Night had long since fallen, and the shadows around him were deep. Returning to the castle would take time. Unlike his father, he had no strength or magic, yet he found the quiet to be serene rather than daunting.

In some ways, being surrounded by insects chirping in the thick of the night was a less lonely experience than his evenings at the castle. Father was not a kind man. After all, here his adopted child was, alone in the dark, dangerous woods. Despite this, Machia could say confidently he cared for his father more than anyone else. But that was the problem.

'Not exactly a high standard is it.'

Experiences like being abandoned in the dead of night were all Machia even valued. Humans, not so much. His bar was simply that low. The powerful people he met were all greedy and more vile than the last. At least these events allowed him to challenge himself. To improve himself and overcome. His father had taught him the power of such things, and so, he enjoyed the vast forest as he walked silently.

 "I just wish there were others like me."

Machia broke the forest's sacred silence as he cast a disapproving gaze down at his words. He had been sternly instructed not to mope, ever, yet away from the castle and its authority, he couldn't help it.

Sure, he cared for his father, but his situation was entirely different. He was still human, unlike Machia. That fact was becoming more dauntingly clear with each passing day. 

"scrrrraappppe"

Machia heard a noise. Following his teachings, he lowered himself to the floor immediately. Low and hidden amid the dead of night, he placed his ear to the floor and listened. 

The soft sound of scraping he heard, was likely a Brorf. A predator with a modest compact size, its sense of smell was its most fearsome weapon. It could distinguish the smell between people and, in theory, accurately assume how large a group was from miles away. It had a record of only attacking very, very small numbers of people. Of course, it was the creature Machia had been most wary of in his venture. 

Feeling the pounding of his heartbeat, he quickly neglected it. Following his insight, he ran. The creature was surely faster than himself, but it was widely believed to be essentially deaf. Hopefully, it would not realize its prey had fled until it was too late. 

His lung capacity was modest, and his childish lungs inevitably failed him after some time. Laying beside a tree trunk, he desperately caught his breath as quietly as possible. 

With an anxious daze, he gleamed at the darkness around him. He was supposed to be perfect, calm, and calculated in all circumstances, yet right now, he was scared. Amidst the large trees and ever-reaching darkness, he felt small. He went to put his ear against the floor once more, but this time, he heard nothing. 

With a relieved sigh, he stayed like that ear against the floor in the cold of the forest night. A slight twitch of agitation betrayed his features as he looked down at the floor. 

'I'm scared, still. Everyone else is scared too easily. I can't be like them, I don't want to be.'

Relieving his face from the floor and his thoughts, Machia raised his head only to see something truly insidious. A single pair of small white dots stared at him from nearby.

Shocked, Machia scampered back to the tree, away from those eyes. Backed up against the trunk with nowhere to escape, Machia sat in a fearful silence as the white eyes approached. He heard only one word. And it came from within his mind.

'Host'

Three more solemn pale dots lit up behind it as they approached. Machia clutched his chest with his hand as he breathed in and out at this horrifying sight. He knew darkness was scary to people because of the unknown. If one knew even a little, though, then they wouldn't allow such things to haunt them. But when something so insidious, so unknown appeared right in front of him, he could no longer hide it. His fear.

'I, I, no I'm not scared, not ever.'

But as great as his fear was, even as it continued to grow. Something else resonated ever so slightly stronger. 

Rage. He hated the fear more than he feared it.

The small black figures suddenly dashed towards him, teeth bared. Still a little stunned, he allowed the first to dig its disgusting black snout into his leg, tearing at his flesh absent of mercy.

With a scream, Machia's seated figure reeled back as a second snout lunged towards his throat. He quickly grasped the creature by its neck before it could rip into him as he squeezed. Even with his child-like stature, he was able to hoist the small creature off the ground barehanded.

That's when he realized.

'They're weak.'

Using the tree as leverage, he pushed himself up to his feet despite the pain in his leg. The other two dashed and jumped, aiming for his waist, but he moved swiftly out of the way. Free to move, he kicked the one feasting away at his leg, causing it to howl as it hurtled back. 

He grinned at the one he still held onto. In response, it bit down on his childish hand with sharp teeth piercing to the bone. With intense spite, Machia winced before spinning and slamming the creature into the tree. It didn't even have the chance to yelp as its spine crumpled against the tree. It fell to the floor, limp. Its form shimmered, and then it vanished. 

Machia stared at the corpse that had disappeared with shock. Turning back to what he now recognized as supernatural entities, he shivered. The shivering persisted. He was shaken to his core. However, he stood, and he faced them, terrified, a grin warped his features.