Ajiel could remember his birth. He knew of no one else, no other race, capable of doing this, except for him and his direct litter-siblings, who, of course, were also present during the untimely experience. Ajiel could remember it in perfect clarity, to the smallest detail. He could recall the feeling of sucking in his very first breath, his lungs filling with precious air and he squalled and gasped. Breathing for the very first time.
He was the third, of their little group of four, to be born, and once it was finished he struggled, not quite blindly, against his mother's belly, his little claws tapping against the cold, stone floors. He was the third, but not the last. If he had been then, perhaps, he wouldn't have remembered his birth quite so well. It wouldn't have been as important to know what had happened.
Ajiel's...brother was born moments after him. Small, weak, frail. Already he had known his rank, as had his siblings. Puppet Masters, both of them, and he a Director. Not so well off, but certainly not low in Euclides hierarchy. Certainly not weak. But their brother was no more than a lowly puppet, incapable of taking on the burden - no, the pleasure, it was always a pleasure - of soul strands. One who would never make anything of himself, nor serve any purpose in a Cast other than to consume resources and serve as entertainment for a Puppet Master.
And, perhaps, they wouldn't have killed him, even if he was just a puppet, if it weren't for the jewels. But it was a sore insult upon the line of Jiarokumo to have a puppet carry his blessed rubies.
Slowly his siblings had crawled away from mother, limbs shaky and wet, and made their way toward the puppet. Ajiel followed after them, not because he wanted to, but because he had to.
Before the puppet had taken his first breath they attacked. The female, jet black and every much as perfect as their father, did the worst. She snapped his neck before he could mewl, digging her teeth and claws (abnormally hard, for Jiaro could never bring weak children into the world) into his flesh and tearing. The male, a perfect twin to their mother, followed after his sister, gnawing at the puppet's legs and bashing the teeth from his maw. They clattered against the floor like the patter of rain (a simile Ajiel would not use until much later, when he had the chance to hear rain), spilling over the floor between them. One by one the puppet's rubies were ripped from its mangled body, and the Puppet Masters dragged the valuable remains of the corpse away. Bones and teeth and claws, which would later come to decorate their godly forms.
Ajiel approached only when they were finished. Not because he wanted to, but because they were watching them. He didn't hesitate when he reached it, his senses filling with the scent of blood and death. He peeled back his lips and tore into the body, mangling whatever was not already mangled. Bloodlust filled him and he ravaged the corpse, swallowing rancid, congealing blood and crunching what few bones were left between his teeth. Eventually his siblings turned away, crawling back to Mother, leaving Ajiel to himself.
With no more audience to play for, Ajiel lent back and finally looked at the body. The image would be imprinted in his mind forever. Torn and bloodied, there was not a splash of white that was left uncovered by brown-black blood, no area where skin had not been torn back to reveal the weak muscle beneath. No bones, for they had all been taken, but for a single rib and the upper legs.
And the skull.
Ajiel lifted a paw to his face, stretching another out to feel his brother's cheek. Embedded beneath his eye was another ruby, glistening and bright, as red as new blood. As red as his brother's blood.
He knew full well he didn't have to do it anymore. No one was watching, and no one wanted anything more from him. He'd done what he must; he'd participated in the desecration of his brother. Later, he would use the excuse that he took it to remember his sins. Not for his siblings or anyone else who asked, because that could mean death for him as well. Such religious zealous was equivalent to that of an Amuni, and that would mean death just as surely as if he had been the puppet.
Careful, so not to splinter the bone any more than need be, he pushed a claw into his brother's thin skull and slowly, carefully, carved it out. The skin and muscle slid easily off his slice of bone, but the ruby remained embedded beneath the eye socket.
Ajiel cast a glance across his shoulder at his siblings, suckling at mother's belly. Each had slid the stolen bones over their bodies, the female wore the puppet's spine like a second to her own, and the male used the carved foot-bones as some sort of morbid leg-armor. Ajiel shifted his gaze back to the skull, cradling it in paws as if it were some breakable thing. Like glass. He sucked in a breath (air!) and lowered his face into it. Blood immediately dripped into his eyes and fur, but he blinked it out and looked up. The skull stayed in place, and the ruby glimmered beneath his left eye. It fit perfectly.
.:.:.::.:.:.
He still wore it to this day, the skull having oddly grown with him. Ajiel had not seen those siblings since he'd made himself part of the Prince's court, but in the time they had spent together he'd notice the abnormal...growth of their bone ornaments as well. It shouldn't have happened, they weren't magical.
But they were Euclides, and Euclides had a knack for becoming...undead.
Ajiel shivered, rubbing his hands over his knees until his fingers pricked with heat.
Did he regret it? Killing his brother? The puppet?
No, no he didn't. Because if he hadn't, he'd have been killed after ward. Even now he could feel Jiaro's gaze following him, judging him. Distrusting and wary and displeased with his tardiness. He knew Ajiel hadn't wanted to do it. He had to know. Jiaro was a god amongst Euclide. There was nothing he didn't know, especially of his own children. And Ajiel had no doubt Jiaro exploited his knowledge by passing on a few...hints to the others. Ajiel didn't know, but he suspected. He had to have, the way they looked at him, with their smirks and sneers and narrowed eyes. Dying to tear him apart, just like the puppet. Playing with him, as Euclides were so very fond of doing.
Of course he'd taken the Prince's offer.
"I'll keep you safe," He'd crooned into Ajiel's ear, stroking his fur ever so very softly. Like a Marionette playing with her prey,"Your siblings can't hurt you if you're mine."
And he'd believed Him, so sweet his words, like the sound of his own symphonies as his fingers danced across the organ. Like music, His lies bloomed and filled the air sweetly, sweetly. It was such a seductive, perfect melody. Of course he'd agreed.
And, oh, how he wished he hadn't. Not one week into his service, feeling out a new concerto with his instruments (gifted to him by the Prince when he'd agreed, one more little sweetness for their deal), his siblings had appeared. Not very many of them, four in total, all younger than he. But they were there, and they knew.
He'd locked himself in his rooms as soon as he realized why they were there. That they wouldn't be leaving.
He hadn't left them in nearly six months.
His fingers prickling and warm, Ajiel lifted his hands from his lap and rested them over the keys of his organ, testing the ivories carefully. Each one was perfectly in tune, as always (he suspected the Prince had some influence in that), and began to play.
Not three minutes into the symphony and the door to his rooms burst open, banging open with an unusual clamor that rang louder than the music. Ajiel jumped and missed a key, marring the melody. He whipped around, gripping his mask to his face, the ruby pressing into his palm, and reached around himself for something, anything that he might be able to use to defend himself.
Laughter echoed through the chambers, familiar and melodic. Ajiel sucked in a breath and let his hands fall stiffly to his sides. Quickly he dipped his head in a bow,” My Prince."
The Prince's laughter deepened and he stepped down into the room, letting his hands brush against the chaotic mess of scrolls and parchment that littered Ajiel's work tables,” I trust I haven't interrupted anything?"
Ajiel dare not even think 'yes' to that question, even if it may have been true. He shook his head,” Certainly not, my Prince."
"Composing something new, are you?"
Ajiel shifted his weight between his feet and shook his head again. His hands clenched at his sides, muscles tensing as he forced them not to rise up and check his mask. It was warm and hot over his face, and he could feel the sweat blooming up over his skin, threatening to make it slip. "No, my Prince."
"No?" his brow quivered, rising a few minuscule centimeters upward. He let out a sigh and bobbed his head, muttering something to himself under his breath before turning to face once of the tables. He plucked a sheet of paper from the piles and ran his eyes over it,” I didn't think you had." His eyes reached the bottom of the page and he set it down again,” You haven't produced anything new in months, Ajiel. What are you doing with yourself? You can't very well have many more things to do, can you? Having locked yourself up like this..."the Prince trailed off, muttering again, and Ajiel could see, even in the dim light of his rooms, that he was sneering.
Displeased. Like Jiaro.
Ajiel gave a little shiver and stepped forward,” I’ve tried, my Prince, I have several unfinished pieces, if you'd like to-"
"I don't want unfinished pieces! I have given you a home, instruments, food, clothing, everything you want,” the Prince's hands snapped about the room as he listed off his gifts,” And all I ask is that you supply me with music."
"I'm...my apologies, my Prince, I'll try-"
"Try!" the Prince snarled, snagging a stack of papers in his hand. He threw them at Ajiel with a jerk of his arm,” You’ve never had to try before!"
"I can't think of anything to write about...I don't....my inspiration-"
"Your coherency!" the Prince growled. He whipped around, shoving another pile of papers onto the floor,"What must I do to get you to make me music! What?"
Ajiel gaped a little, and his hands flew to his mask against his will, trembling,” I don't know."
The Prince gritted his teeth and stalked away,” Don’t know!"
"If I knew...if I could finish something-"
"Oh, shut-up!"
Ajiel snapped his jaw together and backed away, cowed. Good god...what was he going to do? The Prince was going to kill him, mutilate him, god knows what he'd do to him. The trembling of his hands traveled to the rest of his body and he slunk into the shadows to shiver.
The Prince's mutterings turned to angry, hissed whispers. He stalked back and forth across the room, growling between clenched teeth between words. Finally, he stopped, his head snapped backwards. Ajiel watched him freeze completely, not so much as a finger twitched nor a leg muscle quiver from the stillness. Suddenly, his shoulders began to shake and Ajiel watched his hands float toward his face.
For a minute, Ajiel believed the Prince was crying. He froze in place, staring onward with his mouth dropped open, blank eyes widened.
But that familiar laughter quickly filled the room again, and the Prince whirled around with a grin on his face,” No inspiration?"
Ajiel shook his head, swallowing hard.
"Well,” the Prince gave a light chortle and straightened out his clothes,” That’s simple enough to fix, isn't it?"
"My Prince?"
The Prince merely smirked and waved his hand dismissively, "Obviously, little Ajiel, you need a muse."
.:.:.::.:.:.
Ajiel crept along the shining, metallic streets of Star City, keeping as close to the walls as he possibly good. As a Euclides he was fairly unobtrusive, easy to miss. Just a little feline cub slinking about the shadows. Certainly nothing to worry about. Everything else was so much bigger than him, after all. Having his claws and teeth (and spikes, as the case was) was more reassuring as well.
He made his way through the crowded walkways to The Building. The Prince's instructions had been clear. Star City, DRM, sign up for Synth 15. Something about a Muse... Ajiel wasn't sure how this...bonding thing was going to help him, but he dare not disagree with the Prince. He understood what it meant. He'd be sharing his mind with another being, in almost constant company of someone else.
He'd wanted to protest. To tell the Prince that it might kill him. God knew what sort of thing he'd take home. But the Prince had been reassuring; he wouldn't bond something that would hurt him, that would be completely against the point. And besides, he'd added, Dr. Schroeder didn't give create creatures with a tendency for violence. (Ajiel didn't know, but He'd conveniently left out Schroeder’s foray into Yautja, Hydras, and Xenodragons)
Perhaps it would not be quite as bad as he believed. The Prince would be pleased, he'd have...a Muse, or something to draw his inspiration from, and, maybe, he wouldn't be quite so lonely anymore.