carry the Hearts of the weak and be draped in the shields of the powerful, and be open to strip naked for waters of wisdom. That is the way of a king.

—— Words Of KING INAR JÛ BERNIA ——

Seated on the porch of a simple home yet more alive than any others in its vicinity, a woman fiddled with the earlobes of her son. His small body seated perfectly in her lap,

Her golden mahogany-brown skin glistened under the scented candles hovering above them both; her son was like a star in her lap, pale as the white moon above.

She rested her chin on his head, her long locks sweeping across her shoulders to cast a veil over her beautiful Boy, she watched him as he twisted a wire into a figure, his hands so small he’d had to use his entire palm to bend its shape.

“What are you making, son?”

Stopping his work, the boy tried to lift his head backward, prompting her to lift her chin.

When his head leaned back to gaze up at her,

Her golden-orange eyes met his; his looked like millions of tiny crystals, all shining a different color.

She smiled, “Well?”

“I don’t know yet, you have to wait…”

She chuckled in response

“Oh, I see, ok I’ll wait… we have all the time in the world my Snowfall”

Opening his eyes from the daydream, Snow shifted, pulling himself up from the steaming water, sending ripples throughout the vast spring.

Grabbing his towel and wrapping himself, he headed for the exit of the school’s bathhouse, as he walked he caressed the small mole under his right eye,

It was the same shade as his mother’s dark skin, he often touched it, expelling anxiety from himself.

When he stopped, letting his hand fall back into its natural place at his side, it was as if the world unfroze the cadence of conversation bleeding back into his world, consuming the pleasant dream he had indulged for a time.

The last few weeks worked him harder than anything else, Snow could get used to just about anything.

Or so he thought, training, studying, and all things to do with learning and growth were already hard enough, especially while learning to live in an entirely different world.

But something Snow could have never prepared for was social life… that stunt the instructor pulled sent his status through the roof.

And not to his benefit.

“There has to be some legal loophole to get that Damm instructor fired.”

But somehow, even worse than that was his new stray cat,

“I hear ya instructor Ben is something else I should’ve warned you”

Turning to look at the person next to him, Snow regarded the stray coldly.

“When will you stop following me around stray…”

“It’s Oz remember that’s my name, and I’m basically your best and only friend by now so it’s technically not following”

𝘋𝘰 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦?

Sighing, Snow turned away from Oz heading to dress and leave school for the day.

As horrible as things have been, growth was still happening. This bathhouse was more than just a wash-up, or else he would be home right now.

The water had a factor that healed and soothed not only his muscles but also the spiritual essence network within his body. Snow could feel that he was much more powerful than before in every way.

But it wasn’t enough; he needed more.

Mastery of anything was out of the equation now, because, as Snow had predicted, King Inar’s death caused a significant cut in the timeline. Just a month and a half left until exams.

That was basically no time at all, and there was no information on what the exams would be, besides that, it was split into two parts.

That all made things harder.

Reaching his locker, Snow began to dress himself, Oz’s locker wasn’t far from his.

But this was the first time they came here simultaneously, and Snow didn’t anticipate that Oz’s entire torso displayed patchwork tattoos.

But that seemed to be the norm among numerous awakened, l

Oz’s consisted mostly of symbols and abstract designs with some differing and being larger than others, notably the largest one on his back across the line of his shoulders, a sentence written in a language Snow couldn’t read.

He let out a wistful sigh

“Things only get more confusing by the day”

Although Oz’s comment had stuck with him though. They were friends huh Snow had friends, once. Or maybe just acquaintances, mostly people he’d studied with or worked with. He’d already completely forgotten their voices and faces by now, only some fighting still to remain.

Their existence was ephemeral to Snow, but their deaths were a haunting force even if he hadn’t seen them die.. that didn’t seem fair.

Having fully dressed himself now, he glanced down over at Oz, before sighing and calling out to him.

“So were you headed after this?”

A shadow of surprise flashed across Oz’s face for a moment before smirking.

“Finally you come around, but it’s good you asked today cause I'm going to the best place in the inner city, actually a lot of us are going.”

Us? He must mean awakened people.

Snow raised an eyebrow, replying in a placid tone.

“And that is?”

“The opera house, of course”

Snow had briefly heard about this opera house, said to be one of the oldest relics in history, dating back to times of the first priestess.

“And since you asked, that means you’re going right?”

“What—I, that’s not why I—“

“Shhhh the worlds will has flowed man your destiny is too go”

Snow had planned to visit there before his timeline was cut short; the historical value of that place could be vital in his understanding of this world and to the culture of awakened. So this escapade could prove insightful.

“But you can’t go dressed like that, you’ll probably become an even bigger laughingstock than now”

“You're courting the thin line of death Oz…”

“I’m joking! I’m joking!… but no seriously come over to my place. I've got plenty outfits to spare.”

Snow simply sighed in response and followed Oz, out of the school.

Oz lived…well rather… chaotically. His apartment was maybe twice the size of Snow’s, but was somehow more cramped than a closet. It was like a museum of old relics.

“You have an odd taste for old shit…”

“Awesome shit you mean, old stuff is the best stuff ask anyone, ancient things are proof of history—of before.. ”

A statement which Snow agreed.

“But anyways don’t mind the mess”

Stopping a large closet in the hall close to the bathroom, Oz swung the doors open, gesturing his hand inside

“Now on to the true purpose of this adventure: what colors do ya like”

After an obscene amount of time, they both were dressed, and elegantly at that.

White gloves that reached Snow’s forearms fastened with black buckles covered his hands. He wore his ring over the glove in stark contrast with its white, scrunched up at the ends of his gloves were the wide sleeves of a black wool-blend robe-like coat that opened up into a large collar;

His white insignia pinned to it, his pants were of the same texture and were wide, covering his entire legs and folded on the floor around his white gloss ankle boots. And to tie it all together he wore a white pinstriped shirt, unbuttoned his chest bare along with his necklace.

Lastly, his hair was slicked backwards at a slanted angle to the right, a few long bangs neatly curled like the crescent moon.

Oz was in contrast to his dark outfit, he wore a lavish, lavender and white suit, an intricate design throughout its entirety reminiscent of brush strokes, and wore ankle boots as well except his were black.

And he styled his hair the same way as Snow’s, with less length and volume, sleeked and curled in the opposite direction, and adorned it with his signature red hair bow.

They looked both handsome and beautiful, enough to garner envy from both men and women. And could easily be mistaken for brothers.

“Isn’t this a bit overkill”

Raising his eyebrows as far as they could go, Oz replied in a confused tone.

“Overkill??? This underkill, dude just wait till we get there you’ll understand.”

“If you say so…”

Snow had to admit, Oz was much more of a stylist than he’d expected. He’d only told him the colors he wanted and what he usually wore.

But even more importantly, he was definitely of a prestigious background.

But that was the case with most awakened becoming one wasn’t free. That was another reason Snow stuck out so sorely. He had no surname, which meant he wasn’t of a notable background in the slightest.

So Oz sticking to him so closely was a bit suspicious sometimes to Snow’s already guarded psyche.

Both of them left his apartment shortly after dressing. Along the way, Oz explained the many rules and areas of interest within the opera house. But nothing could prepare him to actually experience it,

The building took up an entire city block. Bigger than most museums. Its architecture was sublime and true. One glance would tell that this was built far before their time. The line to enter was long,

Oz wasn’t lying about most of us awakened coming here today.

But soon enough they were entering themselves, producing their cards of identification Snow’s was gold while Oz’s was black, actually, everyone had been black as far as Snow had seen.

In front of the large, open doors. Stood a masked man and woman on each side of the doors; next to a vast table of elegant masks, they both wore elegant drapes just translucent enough to make out their nakedness beneath, fashioned with shimmering diamonds.

As Snow and Oz approached, they were each handed a mask. Snow, being on the right, was handed one by the women. The one he received was a half mask that covered the lower face.

The face was stark white and feminine, and the lips black and soft, slightly parted. Encasing the face in a golden frame work design in the shape of vines, leaves, and small flowers with small red gemstones throughout.

Oz had received a half face as well, it covered the left half of his face, it was completely black and frowning slightly, it wrapped around his eye, nose, and lips accentuating them.

Before they continued their pace, the woman stopped Snow for a moment.

“Please, sir, if you would like, you may request a seat in a private box during the show.”

Glancing over at Oz, it seemed they didn’t stop him. He could easily chalk this up to the difference in their cards.

“I’ll take that offer, please and thank you”

The woman replied in a delighted tone.

“Wonderful I’ll make sure they see to it”

The conversation ended just as Oz noticed Snow’s delay.

A cheeky grin splaying on his face Oz called out to Snow.

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing, let’s go”

They walked side by side through the vast hall of red carpet, maneuvering through the conversations and clutter. Along the walls were tall statues and paintings illuminated with a soft orange light.

“It’s better and better every time I come”

Oz looked around amorously, absorbing the art eagerly. One step into the Hall and shifted Snow’s entire perception, this was more than simply an opera house… it was a den of self-worship, expression, and creativity.

Snow had come to the understanding that awakened were artists, an essential discovery in the development of any awakened. But he’d underestimated those who’d come before him and even his peers.

This place is a testimony to that very part of the awakened life. They didn’t simply just study the information available to them or seek discovery through reputation, they leaned fully into the embrace of artistry.

Bitterness boiled in Snow’s stomach as they walked. He was on the right when he’d forged the jewelry for himself.

But he’d discarded that in favor of what had worked in an environment so drastically different from now.

“Damn it, I’ve wasted so much time simply fighting the air and twisting his brain,” he thought.

While an extremely versatile ability had come about, evaluate ly

“Priestess call be to Snow”

How much more could he have discovered had he immersed himself in artistry more—

Putting out a foot, Oz tripped him, a look of contempt on his face.

“You—what the hell—“

“As I was saying, I’ve gotta go get someone I’ll find ya during the show.”

Snow didn’t reply simply sighing and nodding.

He thought for a moment about how odd this really was. He was living a completely different life than the one he’d lived before, he could feel the unanswerable question of reality beginning to invade.

Continuing his stride, he studied the many artworks, until he happened upon one that tugged at his sight. A man, a woman both mirrored over each other, their many body parts seeming together in one,

They held the same T-shaped position. It was simple and concise, what made Snow so interested in this piece was that in the middle you could almost make out a third person within.

The meaning of this piece was a mystery to him, beyond maybe that men and women are more one than not. But that felt too obvious.

“I find this one interesting too”

A woman had walked beside Snow to admire the piece as well.

“What do you think its meaning is?”

He spared her a glance without changing his stance, her mask a fox.

He replied in a thoughtful tone.

“I’m not sure, it’s… not as simple as it appears”

She chuckled in agreement.

The jewels sang with her movement. Her dress was in two pieces: the top a set of pearls in the shape of hands half covering her breast, and the lower, a white dress dancing with diamonds in the shape of bones.

“While the meaning may be lost on me, I do enjoy its sensualness, even if that may not be its intent here… I find that makes it even better,

She chuckled and continued.

Sex to me is the most amazing art in the world. We are granted the option to choose whom and how we sex, a connection so artistic as to be divine… I could very well be as dominant as any king or soft was the prettiest pedal in a shared bed with a love, regardless of anything else in the world”

Snow had no real reply for her, after all he was callow in that specific art.

But sensualness was not foreign to him, knowing the human body had been a requirement for him in that life before now.

But luckily, this conversation was cut short as one of the many stationed butlers came to whisper in her ear.

“It seems I’m needed elsewhere, I enjoyed our shared admiration, I hope to see you again…”

He didn’t reply except to bow slightly, and she did the same and turned away.

That conversation, while unprompted, awoke something within him, or rather within his mind.