Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

Damien stopped in his path blankly, slight confusion clouding over. When he lifted his foot to move, there seemed to be a barrier stopping him.

Pale red flowers suddenly lit up the edges of the path, blossoming and unfurling their delicate petals to light up the passage. Some wilted, while some were brimming with youth. Flowers in all different stages of life.

It was welcoming Alvara Jones, the lost God of Time.

A golden thread wrapped around Alvara and Raphael's wrists, never loose but also able to be stretched. Lydia had given them it, although it hadn't been gold originally, just an invisible string tying them together. It was necessary for the hero to find his watcher, when the watcher had already found the hero.

However, the fox couldn't proceed. Alvara turned back, frowning. "Aren't you coming?"

"I can't." said Damien quietly, planting his feet firmly on the ground as he gazed at her. "You'll be fine, Alvara."

"What—already? I... I'm not confident." She snapped her head to Raphael, falling to pieces. "What if I can't save him, what will you do? What'll I do?"

"Alvara."

The soft-spoken tone that was steady made her panic freeze. He tilted his head, raven ears following his movement before he lowered his chin—a sign of respect and submission. That he saw her as an equal, and that he trusted in her.

"You are bound to me." The oath they'd sworn only a day before. "If you speak, I'll listen. I'll hear you, no matter how far you go. Do you understand?"

She swallowed, shaky and uncertain. Her legs ached from the walk, and the nerves that tossed in her stomach didn't make anything better. But she looked and saw Damien's confident stare layered over that soothing emerald, and turned and saw Raphael's determination and faith set over stern features, ready to cross the universe for the one he sought.

It wasn't that Raphael didn't feel anxious, or fear. It wasn't that he wasn't aware of the failure that might occur. But it was that even if he didn't succeed, he knew he'd simply walk on a new path and try again until he did.

He'd failed a hundred times. And he never stopped walking. Struggling. Surviving.

The necromancer couldn't help the tremble in her throat. "I understand." She lowered her chin, smiling. Damien paused, then the corner of his lips lifted the tiniest fraction, too.

Alvara turned around, and Raphael grinned that lazy, confident smile that he often wore before they both started to walk, the path disappearing behind them. If they turned back, which they didn't, couldn't, they would've seen Damien bow to the simmering shadows—to the master he hoped for—and then allowed the darkness to swallow him whole.

The others, having fulfilled their purpose in saving the small, tragic fragments of Soren's history, soon met the same fates in the worlds they stood.

Outside a bright supermarket with neon, flickering lights, Brioc laughed. "You're actually not so bad, Leny~"

"Still with the nicknames, Haze Prince?" wondered Erlen with frustration, though his shoulders shook slightly after they'd spent several hours navigating this strange land in search for food for the malnourished child, now fast asleep in Erlen's arms.

He sold his jewelry for a price he was fairly certain was undervalued, but as he stared at the slumbering ball, the terrible prince couldn't help but think—had Soren been this small, once?

What an awful thing to imagine it was. How a child, as small as this, might've trembled under the sheets in the deep darkness, cried endless tears.

Erlen furiously closed his eyes, and prayed.

In another place, sitting in a park filled with trees, with a little boy between her legs as she swung in a gentle pace, Vendra leaned against the metal chains that connected to the top and smiled. She hummed lightly, singing a song from her tribe as the little boy stared ahead at the setting sun.

The darkness tickled her feet, but she ignored it. She sang until the end.

They all faced similar situations. Atlas awkwardly held the tiny hands carefully in his grasp, walking slowly down the odd roads filled with even stranger buildings.

He walked until he couldn't anymore.

Celine carried the boy on her back, spinning around and laughing with wild abandon as a small smile spread out on the child's lips. "You know, I'm definitely offering to swing the adult you around later! That prince will probably say no, but I have some black history on him now, hm?"

Vincent crouched down, peering at skinny kittens in a box, abandoned on the side of the road. The little boy curiously poked at the box, and the first prince had to stop him from getting scratched or bitten. A much too large, fancy garment was draped over bony shoulders.

Vincent sighed, pressing his lips into a thin line. "...I truly regret... all that I missed out doing, Soren."

Deimos, still crying slightly as the child patted him on the pack in a stiff, confused manner, pulled the boy into his arms and hugged him tightly. It was warm. "You must be alive, little brother. Please...!"

The two, that had yet to be consumed by the whispering shadows, continued forward on the quiet path. The concept of time was confusing, and perhaps they'd have to keep walking for days, months, even years. Despite that, they didn't stop for a moment.

"Raphael."

The protagonist glanced over. "What's up?"

"I've... overheard some conversations, but not clear ones. And with everything that has happened... you knew Soren from a long time ago, right?"

There was no hesitation. "I have. A very long time ago, I knew him."

"Did you forget about him?" asked the girl after another stretch of silence.

"...I'd like to say I didn't, but yeah. I did. And I'm doing everything I can to remember now, and I'm almost there." Raphael turned his gaze away, staring at his calloused fingers that ended more lives than he could remember, the many scars imprinted into his flesh as a reminder. "I remember almost everything now."

"Does it feel different?"

"I think I've felt like I've known him since the first time I saw that infuriating, indifferent stare." He laughed lightly. "There's something I want to tell him."

"What's that?"

"That I've found him. After all those years of searching, looking for something even when I didn't remember, I've finally found it. I—"

Alvara's eyes suddenly widened and she pushed him forward aggressively, though her push was more of a nudge to the man, breaking out into a sprint. She pointed ahead, hair in a wild mess. "Hey! Look!"

A white, glowing figure stood in the far distance. They couldn't make out the face, just a blur of where the person was—flickering between a child and an adult. When it heard the shout, it turned and started to run away.

"Please stop running, Soren!" huffed Alvara as she was pulled along by Raphael, also chasing after the blob in the distance. She stumbled clumsily as she tried to keep up, mainly being dragged with the protagonist's hurried steps.

"Little prince! Fool!" shouted Raphael in a low, frustrated growl as the distance never decreased. "You idiot, why are you running away?"

The trees started to close up in front of them, the branches lowering to create a gate of some sort, preventing them from going further. Raphael breathed heavily, cursing under his breath before he turned to stare at the golden thread. He wasn't supposed to be here, but it was thanks to this that he could—tied to Alvara.

Alvara noticed his stare and shook her head hurriedly. "No, no, no you can't! It's already dangerous, but you'll be the one in real danger if you go off without this, Raphael!"

He swallowed before pulling his sword out of the hilt in a swift movement, smiling. "Sorry, kid."

The thread snapped.

And he jumped through the closing gap between the trees.

"Hey!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, but he couldn't hear her anymore. He didn't want to.

She chased after him, slamming against the tightly knotted roots that firmly prevented anybody from passing, her hands bleeding and scratching. Finally, huffing, she slumped down and let out a long, frustrated sigh. It wasn't safe to separate, but it was also true that they might've lost 'Soren' had they not.

On the side, a new, twisting path grew with the trees' roots, leading around the blockage. There was no other option. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled forward, hastily rushing through the path.

"Damien... Damien, do you hear me?" How did the bond work? She had no idea, and there was no explanation that was given.

When almost losing hope along the endless path, a voice responded. 'I hear you, Alvara.'

A choked gasp of relief. "Raphael, he—he took off after what we think is Soren, but honestly I don't really know if it is, and... and, I don't really know—"

'Breathe.'

The girl breathed. "Okay. Okay, I'm good. Sorry. I'm following a path that goes around the blockage where Raphael disappeared through right now."

'Good. Keep going.'

She nodded, and continued to run even as her lungs and limbs protested.

The question was, where was the heroic protagonist who'd run off at the risk of his life, at that moment? The answer was rather simple, and at the same time, made Raphael question his life decisions. Sitting cross-legged—because that was the most convenient position—he stared at the rabbit in his lap silently.

He'd lunged out to grab the glowing figure and succeeded... so what was this?

"I don't recall having a rabbit for a lover." muttered Raphael with a frown. "Although I guess you're pretty cute, but not really what I'm looking for."

It was trying to squeeze through his grasp, although Raphael's hold was too strong for it to escape from. Instead, it lifted it's face, pointing a black nose to the air with a vague feeling of annoyance.

"...well. You definitely give off the same irritating glare that he does."

Raphael sighed, looking around for any more clues. Although this defiant, escaping rabbit did remind him of a certain man, it wasn't the same. Perhaps it was another illusion, or a trick of this path—he wasn't sure. What he did know was that he likely didn't have a lot of time before it grew too dangerous to be here, even more than it was already.

Suddenly, a sharp pain throbbed in his hand and he loosened them out of reflex, giving the rabbit the perfect opportunity to slip through and run away.

The protagonist stared, questioning his life. Then, without a moment to waste, he stood up and chased after the troublemaker. "So we're running again, yeah?"

The rabbit was surprisingly fast, and he had to exert his already tired body to the absolute limits in order to catch up. Lydia had promised chaos and strangeness—was this only the beginning?

"...!"

A root appeared out of nowhere, tangled up along the dirt, and he stumbled before noticing a steep incline in front of him. Cursing as he fell forward, he slammed his feet down sideways and skidded down the hill while dirt kicked up all around, forming a cloud.

Using his sword close to the end, he pushed it down to stop himself from falling any further, breathing heavily.

The rabbit was gone.

"Little fool, you sure know how to make things difficult for me." muttered Raphael as he looked around, searching behind purple-pink trees, and under twisting bushes that spread everywhere. Slowly and carefully, he kept walking down the path.

He walked, and walked, and walked. It was endless.

Then, as his throat was choked and tired, body reading to collapse of exhaustion, a tentative voice was heard. Soft and uncertain, carrying traces of sleepiness.

"...hello?"

Raphael gasped, and sprinted forward immediately.

His legs burned. His body was sore, scratched and bruises ran along his skin. He couldn't run anymore. But he did, pushing himself forward when he crashed into the ground, clumsily standing up again and running.

Ren. There was only one thought on his mind, his entire being using sheer willpower alone to keep him standing.

He stumbled again, taking a rough tumble to the ground as he groaned, unable to stop himself from tossing in the ground and rolling. He pulled out his sword and slammed it down, gasping. Sweat lined his forehead, dripping down his neck.

It was a pathetic sight for the glorious hero, falling over his own feet, dragging his weary body.

He couldn't lift his head. He couldn't move anything. The crunch of leaves and footsteps told him something was approaching, but there was no energy left to look as his body hung off the support of his blade.

What he did see from his lowered head, were a pair of pale feet stopping right before him.

"...Ren." croaked the protagonist in shambles.

A hand slipped around his face, feeling him. As if the person didn't know he was real, or wanted to confirm his existence. The touches were light and hesitant. Suddenly, they slipped under his chin and jerked his face up to gaze at a blurry pair of eyes, one blue and one black. Unfocused.

Raphael wouldn't mistaken that face anywhere, though the unclear expression seemed a little lost, numb.

He offered a shaky smile. "Ren. You look terrible, you know?"

There was no response, only a frown and knitted eyebrows that continued to stare down. It was blank, as if he didn't recognize who Raphael was.

"You didn't make me run all the way here... for you to forget, did you?" Raphael laughed, but it was fearful and on the verge of tears. "That's alright, I'll help you remember this time. I won't forget it again. Not the past during the apocalypse that ended in tragedy, nor the you I've met here and fell in love with all over again."

More silence.

"I'll remember you in however many more lives I live. I'll remember you when you can't, and I'll remember you when you can. Alright, little fool?"

Soren lowered his face closer, feeling the warmth of the man he held. Slowly, he pressed a light kiss to the coarse lips. Then another, and another as Raphael's eyes widened in surprise and confusion. The light pecks continued, until Soren pulled away and smiled.

"You found me."

Something roared to life in Raphael's chest and he reached out, tugging that pretty, irritating face down as he kissed like they were about to die. He hooked his hand around the back of the pale neck, feeling arms wrap around him in response.

It was violent, full of unrestrained emotions that tumbled out. Soren pulled away to gasp for air, only to be yanked back again and fall in the relentless pace of Raphael's.

Wet tears dripped between their kiss, and Soren opened his eyes slightly to see the protagonist crying silently, furrowed brows. The man cried a lot, it seemed. And it was always for him. All these tears belonged to him.

Soren felt a dampness on his own cheeks—those didn't belong to that man. He choked before Raphael bit his lip, drawing blood. They both pulled away, heaving.

Raphael laughed through his tears and gasps. And Soren couldn't look away.

"Yeah." said Raphael breathlessly, grinning ear to ear as he closed his eyes, pulling Soren in closer. "I've finally found you."