Chapter Text
The Heavenly realm was not what most humans thought it was. It was no classless, moneyless society that humans often fantasised about. Not even gods were free of the shackles of hierarchy. Half-animals were placed at the lowest level of the hierarchy. While they had their own realm and leader, they were mostly seen serving under nymphs, heeding to their calls. The nymphs were the second in line; they were beautiful creatures, especially created to serve the gods. The tales of their beauty were renowned in every realm. Even great human musicians and dancers who ever existed were direct descendants of nymphs. Demons weren't even included in the hierarchy, since they were always at war with the divine beings.
But Scott didn't need to worry about the pros or cons of either class. He was fortunate enough to be born in a class way above them. He was the son of a god, after all, born on a silver platter, with all the privileges that most would give their lives for. He sat in front of his vanity table, glaring at the doppleganger staring back at him. It was still early morning. He could hear the birds chirping outside the palace, and the servants who were walking outside his chambers, tending to all their tasks. His father, Zenith, was not only the god of thunder but also the king of all gods, the one who reigned over every divine being.
Everything seemed normal, even cheerful. Scott felt so out of place in his own home. He could feel his heart beating out of his own chest; it was the biggest day of his life. Today, he was meeting his future husband. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to keep his mind at bay. He had always known why he was made, to be the peace treaty between the gods and demons. He knew since he was a kid that one day he would have to marry the son of the king of demons, for the sake of divinity.
The serving nymphs had dressed him in the most royal robe he owned, and the jewellery that he wore was made of the most expensive gems that were ever to exist.
They were suffocating him; he could barely breathe.
The engagement date was not random; it was calculated to fall directly on the 5th millennium anniversary of his father's accession to the divine throne. According to the old heavenly traditions, a king must only rule for five millennia. It was only a matter of time until Zenith would be forced to leave his post. Every 5 millennia, a competition is hosted by the elders; the winner of the competition would be elected the new king.
The 'elders' were creatures said to be wiser than the smartest gods; they lived in the enchanted forest that was closed to everyone unless the competition was taking place. No one had seen what the creatures looked like; they normally take a more human-like form. If anyone were to lay eyes on them, they would forever be blind.
Scott was pulled out of his thoughts by the sudden knock on his door.
"His Majesty has summoned the prince to the dining chambers," the voice was of a lowly servant. Scott quickly dismissed the former as he looked at himself in the mirror one last time before making his way to the dining chambers.
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Every eye seemed to be on Scott the moment he walked in, but he kept his eyes on the ground, meekly standing by his father's side, while his father was buttering up the demon king. Alfred. This was the first time Scott was seeing a demon. Alfred looked mostly like a god if it wasn't for his massive build; he had ashy skin and bright red eyes. His robes were a crimson red that reminded Scott of blood. He didn't look too amused at Zenith's futile attempts at making small talk. Scott looked around the room. He couldn't see the man he was bound to marry.
It seemed that Zenith had made the same observation. He gave Alfred a curt smile before he asked the question that Scott had been dreading all his life.
"If I may inquire, where is your son?" Zenith's sickeningly sweet tone made Scott cringe on the inside. Alfred looked almost bored as he answered:
"Scar would be here any minute."
As if summoned, the door to the room flung open, Scott smelled him before he saw him, the nauseating smell of blood and burnt flesh made Scott's stomach churn. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a serving nymph fainting from the mere smell.
The man who walked in was exactly like Scott had imagined a demon prince to look like. He was tall- taller than Scott, his dark green eyes seemed to scan the entire room, unlike his father, he had honey beige skin with was marred by scars, though the most prominent scar was the one which ran from his left cheek to just before his left eye, he had an arrogant smirk on his face as he walked in, his bloody shoes leaving bloodied footprints as he walked.
"I apologise for not being on time," Scar's voice was more cheerful than Scott had imagined.
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The rest of the evening went by in a blur. Scott could barely remember the conversations or the planning, but he did remember the feeling of Scar's rough hands on his dainty ones as Scar slipped the wedding ring on his finger. The sounds of the clapping felt too overwhelming for Scott.
Alfred and Scar stayed the night, Scott could barely sleep, knowing that Scar was just a few doors away. He spent the entire night twisting and turning, and by the time morning arrived, Scott was so exhausted that he could barely get himself out of his bed.
Scott stayed in bed longer than he was supposed to, listening to the commotion outside his room. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Scott dragged himself out of his room.
Zenith glared at him when Scott finally made his way to the throne room. He must be mad at Scott for taking a long time and making him look bad in front of the demon king. But Scott barely even looked at him; his eyes were focused on the golden parchment in Zenith's hands.
The competition invitation.
Scott suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe; the day he had always thought was far away had finally come. His eyes looked around the room in panic. He could see that Scar, too, had an invitation in his hand, but the one he had was glowing red, the parchment stained with Scar's blood as a blood oath.
As Scott moved to do the same, it seemed as if his life had come to an end, that he was no longer a prince.
But a pawn in this wretched game.