Helix set down his fork.
Here we go.
"Ninety-six percent," he said.
Like most of the times he spoke, Helix barely put any strength behind his voice. It was mostly a whisper, but just like most times, Morgan and Esmeray caught his words easily.
And their reactions were...amusing.
Esmeray’s face twisted through multiple facets of shock before settling in a wide grin.
"Amazing...Truly. You might just become the heir apparent."
Morgan coughed behind his hands, while Esmeray laughed louder, her voice shrill, the mood lifting slightly.
Helix turned his head towards Morgan, smiling pleasantly.
"Morgan"
"..."
"Morgan."
"I heard you the first time." His brother’s voice was flat as a board.
"What was yours again? I want to make sure I remember correctly before I—"
"Eighty-three."
Morgan gave him a dark glance before stabbing his disgusting food with a fork.
Ahh, if looks could kill.
Then he would have almost died. Morgan wasn’t quite near killing him yet.
So logically, Helix started poking the bear.
A wise man would have disagreed, but who cared about old men? Certainly not Helix.
"Morgan." He threw his fork at him. Helix twisted his head and continued speaking as if nothing had happened.
"I know about your memory issues, but I’m a great brother. A wonderful brother even, but that’s beside the point. So I will remind you of that little bet we made, all so you can save face."
His smile widened even further, touching the edges of his eyes. It was almost creepy.
"Aren’t I wonderful, thinking about your honor like that?"
For a moment, the Heir Apparent said nothing, then...
"Ow! I mean yes, I remember, of course I do."
Someone had been kicked under the table, and it wasn’t Helix.
Esmeray leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, looking between the two brothers with a serene expression found on faces watching a nature documentary.
"The bet," she said delightfully. "Yes. Do tell."
Morgan’s eye twitched.
"It’s nothing important."
"Morgan lost. The terms were simple. If I lost, I’d have to eat shit...literally, and if he lost, he’d have to wear a suit of armor for two years."
"Two..." Morgan sat up so fast his chair scraped back. "That was not what we agreed to!"
"Helmet included."
"I will actually kill you one day. Just you wait."
A smile spread across Esmeray Israfel’s face. She turned to Morgan with an expression of pure, radiant delight.
"Sweetheart."
"Don’t." Morgan pointed at her. "Don’t you dare."
"You’ll look so protected."
"So safe." She grabbed his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks. "My little armored darling."
Naturally, Helix already had his phone out. And naturally, he was also recording, which he was going to send in the family group chat.
Naturally.
Morgan made a sound that had no English equivalent, something between a groan and a threat, trying to pry Esmeray off himself.
He was very clearly losing.
Sorry, brother, he thought, watching Esmeray attempt to kiss Morgan’s squished cheek while he tried unsuccessfully to escape.
It really is for your own good.
**
The sun hadn’t risen yet when Helix slipped out of his room.
The estate was quiet, servants sleeping in their quarters. There was no sound of ruffling footsteps or talking voices. Even the wind had hushed to a whisper, as if afraid of waking the Children of Abaddon.
Angels knew how much Helix had tried to sleep, but alas, he was hated by Jeremiel, the Angel of Dreams.
It made sense too, considering Jeremiel was a Fallen spirit.
For two whole hours, Helix had watched shadows shift on the ceiling, his brain refusing to cooperate, until he’d given up entirely and changed into training clothes.
He had at most two years, which wasn’t a lot of time.
The training hall was a five-minute walk from his bedroom, behind a door marked with the same shattered halo sigil as his bedroom, only larger and carved deeper into the stone.
Helix pushed it open and was immediately hit with a gust of cold air and the smell of rot, like a decaying body had been left somewhere.
The room, if it could be called that, was a wide island of glass, with towering pillars holding up a dome of crystal.
Training equipment lined the walls: weights, targets, sparring dummies, and healing potions.
And in the center, mounted on a stand of dark gray stone, were his weapons.
"Beautiful..." The words escaped him without warning.
A dagger, a sword, and a pistol, the first two made from the same glass-like material as the estate walls, while the pistol was carved straight from obsidian. The glass was practically indestructible, and the weapons had been sharpened to a glossy degree.
They caught the pale pre-dawn light and threw it back in fractured pieces across the floor, making a dizzying pattern.
Helix reached forward and picked up the dagger first. It was light, perfectly balanced and cold against his palm.
He grabbed the blade with his right hand, turned it over once, and got into stance. Dagger held in reverse grip and sword pushed forward.
Helix swung in a cross pattern, bringing down his sword in a wide arc, before swinging upwards with the dagger.
He continued with the movements for a few minutes, slashing and carving through the air, moving slightly while doing so.
Oh wait...I’m supposed to stretch first.
He had almost forgotten. Setting down his weapons on the pedestal, Helix began to stretch.
He touched his feet; he tried doing splits, failed miserably, and shifted to something simpler.
Pilates...
...Yeah, I can’t do this.
He’d been trying for the past 20 minutes, but a damn dead person kept screaming at him.
[That’s not how you do it, lad! Back in my day we used to train by going uphill BOTH SIDES!]
Twirling on the soles of his feet, Helix picked his dagger by the edge and threw it at the damned ghost.
"Just shut the hell up. You’re dead! So quit bothering me and go to hell or something."
The ghost scoffed at him.
[Kids these days, no discipline. If I talked like this to my elders, they would have fed me my own shit.]
The sun began to rise beyond the glass walls, painting the sky in pale gold. He had already wasted too much time, and this darned specter wasn’t making it any easier.
"Yeah yeah, go back to sleep or tell me what you want, grandpa."