I Began to Sow in Him, Seeds of Hatred and Discord

Four years later...

"I do not want anyone to come in!" Sagar shouted at the slave who stared at her feet shaking virgorously. The little boy continued his tantrums, throwing anything in his sight at her. He kept shrieking and whining but the slave stood there like a statue, staring at her feet. At the same time, ignoring the sharp pain she felt each time an object was thrown at her. The objects seemed to carry the anger of the little prince because they collided with her body leaving brutal marks, hot liquid scalded her skin, he grabbed a plate and flung it across the room. The ceramic make a wooshing sound spinning in terrible speed. She mentally braced herself for the head-on collision as the ceramic grazed her forehead, wickedly slicing the plain white skin which was quickly tainted with red, dripping, staining her cheek travelling down her jaw to form a drop soaking her white cloth, each drop soaked the cloth in crimson, she didn't flinch, even though pain rolled off her like waves she kept quiet, her face was blank, almost lifeless. Fragments of the fragile piece collided with the wall behind her, shattering in pieces. The prince isn't about to stop. In fact, he just started. He threw everything in his grasp at her, some inflicted cuts, others flew past her, successfully crashing against the wall. The maid closed her eyes in defeat wishing for a knight only that it wasn't a knight. It was the Queen. 

The Queen flung the door open, walking in flawlessly, dressed in red silky robes draped across her shoulders, fitting at the waist, her long legs covering long strides. She was just in time. The little prince threw a pretty little tea cup at the slave. The Queen swiftly moved to block the slave like a piece on a chess board, the cup spilled it liquid in the air whilst spinning like a knife aimed at its target. The Queen face is calm, her posture rigid, she swiftly caught the cup in mid air, revealing her creamy skin, calmly waiting for the unaware prince to notice her, she glanced at her side, nodding at the maid who bowed in response moving backwards before turning around at the door, closing it. 

"I never asked you to leave." Little Prince said in a leering voice. 

"I apologise for the inconvenience Your Highness." she replied quietly. He slowly turned around with a smirk on his face but he wasn't ready for what he saw. His mother was standing there, the teacup still caged in her hand in mid air. In a petrified motion he walked towards his mother with trembling lips. Loosing her grip on the cup, she let it fall off her hand helplessly meeting with the floorboard, the ceramic shattered in tiny fragments between the two like a barrier.

"Remove your footings and come to me." She motion for him to come forward in a cool demeanor plastered to her face. The prince is shaking now, he knows there's only one way forward and it's through the pieces lying on the floor. He stared at them with tears glistening in his eyes.

"Do not keep me waiting Your Highness." She drawled folding her hands behind her, her jewels twinkled. Slowly, the prince walked forward in a dazed motion. He stepped on the first piece and flinched in pain, the broken piece sharply cut through his feet staining the floorboard with crimson.

"Keep walking." The authority in her voice were crystal clear. The little boy placed his other feet on another broken piece and hissed in pain as it pierced his feet, each step was sickening, messy, he closed his eyes in disgust and kept walking towards his mother until he was inches away from her, his eyes still closed, pain shot through his body. 

"Look at me." She whispered, slowly he opened his eyes and looked at her but he was met with a deafening slap, WHAM! Her ring cut through his soft cheek and blood spilled out. He dare not flinch. 

WHAM! The sound came again but this time, it was his other cheek, tear rolled down helplessly. 

"Is that how I raised you, to treat your slaves like pests?! You turn them into a doll that you use to relieve your tantrums?!" She raised her left hand again and landed them on his right cheek, WHAM! The prince stood still, he could hear bells ringing in his ears. 

"I am disappointed in you, I am ashamed to call you my son!" She shierked landing another slap on his face, 

"How dare you, HOW DARE YOU?!" She knelt down on the floor shaking the petrified boy vigorously. After what seemed like ages she got up, adjusted her posture and walked towards the door which opened before she got there and closed behind her.

The boy stood there rooted to the spot, tears spilling from his eyes, not from pain but heartbreak. His little heart has been shattered like the tiny fragments embedded in his skin. Something uncurled itself from the bed, slithering down and making its way towards the standing boy until it encircled him, gliding up his torso to his neck, golden dilated eyes flashed with interest when it's forked-like tongue teasingly tasted the fresh blood which was earlier spilled from the open cut on his cheeks.

"Cannn yooouuuu seeeee iiii wasssss rrriiighhhhttttt?" It hissed, "ttthhhheeeeyyy dooo noooottt llloovvee yyyyooouuuu." It kept on whispering into his ears with the y-shaped tongue that flickered mid air. 

The boy shut his eyes, something gathered underneath the lids, something black and raging. As soon as it came, it stopped and he opened his eyes, now emotionless, he walked back on the ceramics but didn't flinch as one little piece got winded up into the cut, cutting deeper to spill again. He didn't even flinch as he was hopped onto the bed, lsy down, blew out the lamp and closed his eyes while the Cobra watched cautiously. 

Sagar wasn't aware of the time he went to bed but when he opened his eyes, it was already morning. Dried blood plastered his cheeks and sweat matted his wavy hair to cover his forehead. "UGH!" He flinched as he tries to move his toes towards him to examine the damage which has been done from yesterday. 

The cuts had dried but one tiny part remained wet, slightly oozing. It is probably that ceramic of yesterday which entered his foot. Gently, he looked around and saw a tiny needle which he had been using the previous day to learn cutting and sewing and picked it up. Bracing himself for pain, he clenched his teeth tightly and plunged it into the moist area, moving left and right until he could feel the tiny shard and guided it out albeit ripping a bit of flesh with it as it squelchingly dropped on the soft golden bedspread. Carefully, he soften his facial features and let out a sigh of relief then picked up the tiny shard with his left hand to examine, squinting his eyes closely only to be interrupted by a knock. Anxiously, he looked around and eventually dropped the blood stained piece and needle into a plant vase then quickly adjusted his posture and pretend he was still asleep. After some minutes, the same made came in, all looking fresh and beaming as if nothing happened the other day. He took a peek at her and saw that all the inflicted cuts and wounds were already polished up by makeups and his mother must have paid a hefty sum to keep her smile on her face which made him silently scorn and he pretended to sleep and allow her do her daily chores of going around and clearing the room. Not daring to move an inch closer to the edge of the bedframe.

Neither of them noticed that the plant vase in which the blood and fresh residue was dropped had already begun to die, slowly loosing it green as black soaked in an upward motion from the soil into the vines of the aloe vera leaves, drying up its juicy gel and leaving in its place, black slime. None of them paid attention as the leaves silently cry for help till it withered completely and silently in the pot.

But the Cobra watched everything intently, surprised what the blood of a cursed dweller can actually do. She has come this far from her home, come this far to exchange a human baby with him, kill it and take it back to Sconoscuito's body incase it was eventually found by the slave search party. She has come this far to fake her death at the altar of the gods by killing a slave and branding on its face her own before she gave up her human form and became one with the ethereal, a powerful and dark cultivation that others feared to master so they deemed it evil. They can only allow it appear at their side in its glory state, they must not become one with it... Although her goals are not yet clear to me yet but one thing was. She intended to teach him everything she knows and find out if truly he is a reincarnation of the Basilisk's body by pushing him into the doomed sea where the spirit stay locked... If he resurfaced then she has achieved her first step but if he doesn't, she has gambled for nothing. 

This gave her hope and vigour, she must persist and when the time is right, she must retell history to all who had known it. 

Three hours later, the opening of curtains to allow bright hot sun steep in, burned the essence of the poor boy who must have fallen asleep while pretending. He yelped and bolted upright, looking around in panic as his emerald green eyes flashed around the room, scanning the heavy metal carved door, his study area, his ever-neat wardrobes adorned with fancy little clothes and jewelries before it landed beside him and looked upon the face of his mother. A red haired beauty whose hair seemed to have been firmly pulled into a tight ponytail and jabbed with several adornments, looking like it would have hurt a lot before achieving this feat. 

"Will you continue to lie there or will you get up and prepare for today's lessons young man?" The Queen questioned him, giving him a mean glare and moved out of his view to go through his wardrobe. After rummaging for a while, she found the right one; a black satin shirt, this would go with a royal blue pants. "He's just a kid after all, no need for anything top fancy." She murmured to herself as she handed over the pair to a nearby slave who immediately set to work; straightening slipt ends and beckoned to another to bring up the heating flat iron rod which will be used in straightening the cloth. Two maids gingerly moved to the side of the prince who had now gotten up and stood awkwardly beside the bed, stairing at his toes. One knelt in front of him to unbutton his shirt and then do the same to his black flannel trousers, allowing it drop to the floor so she could help him raise his leg one after the other to pull it off. As she reached for one leg, he flinched and she paused in fright but he regained his composure and allowed her touch it.

Few hours later, the Queen and the Young Prince sat at the dining hall silently scooping up little portions of rice from their plates, their cutlery made no sound as they ate in silence.

However, the Queen was filled with thoughts. This boy, who she was told and personally verified to be her lost baby, seems to be closed off and prone to anger. She glanced sideways at him. His jet black hair woven it two huge braids backwards, allowing a great view of his forehead. Something caught her attention; it was the red italic 'S' mark on the left side of his forehead.

"Where did you get that scar?" She asked without thinking.

"I do not remember Mother." He replied courteously, making his mother wander, how such a little boy could be so adult like in behavior.

The rest of their meal was had in silence.

Everyone was silent, except the snake whose tongue kept making hissing sounds as he coiled and uncoiled under the dining table, choking the life out of a tiny rat, leaving in its stead, dry crumbs of low quality gray fur and dried up bones.