Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy) - Chapter 44: Chapter 44

"Well, gentlemen and toad," Priscilla grinned, slinging one arm over Wheeler's shoulder and the other around a reluctant Mulock, "congratulations to us for surviving our first year at the academy!"
"Which is a goddamn miracle considering a certain someone's studying habits," Mulock muttered.
"Hey!" Priscilla snapped. "Might I remind you I wouldn't have survived, period, if another certain someone had actually succeeded in murdering me!"
"Let's just hope the next person who tries has better luck."
"God, you're such an asshole," Priscilla grumbled. " I can't believe we're even friends."
The demon grimaced. "Ew, don't use the f word."
"Hey! Look guys! Someone just gave me a flag!" Their attention immediately snapped to Wheeler like two frantic parents.
The boy was currently staring down at the tiny purple flag he now held. There were countless flags like it scattered throughout the audience packing the arena, all eager to watch the second year tournaments.
"Oh yeah," Priscilla said with a grin. "People usually hand those out to support their favorite students."
Wheeler turned the flag over in his hand, revealing a large RK painted in yellow on the back.
"RK," Priscilla murmured, thinking for a moment. "That probably stands for Richie Kingston. As long as he does well at the tournament, he's sure to be recruited as a royal mage. Have you ever met him, Wheeler?"
"Nope," Wheeler said, shaking his head. He flashed her a bright smile. "But since someone gave me this awesome flag, I'm gonna make sure to cheer him on!" The boy followed this up by excitedly waving it around.
Mulock shot him a long, blank stare.
Wheeler thought for a moment. "Hmm, maybe I should do some kinda cheer. Like um...Richie, Richie he's our man! If he can't win this, no one can!"
Mulock proceeded to face palm. "Wheeler," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I will literally drag you out of this arena and all the way back to the hotel if you ever do that again."
Priscilla looked at the flag now, smiling to herself. "We must have passed out at least a hundred of these for Peter when he participated in the tournament. My mother gave one to practically every person who passed by."
"Oh! Speaking of, how is your brother?" Wheeler asked eagerly.
Priscilla hesitated a moment. "Um...actually, I never got to see him." Her gaze flickered to the ground. "I waited for a few hours until eventually one of his assistants showed up and said he was too busy to see me."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Wheeler said softly.
Priscilla shook her head, smiling despite the fact that it looked rather forced. "Oh no, it's fine. He's an imperial magician, after all. It was stupid of me to think he wouldn't be swamped with work all day."
"But still," Wheeler murmured, "you were really looking forward to it..."
"Wheeler," Priscilla said, her voice tight through her smile. "Like I said, it's fine. Besides, he's coming home for the annual Packwood ball." Her face genuinely lit up now. "You two are still planning to stay at our estate this summer, right? If you are, then you'll finally get to meet him."
"Yeah!" Wheeler cheered. "Oh...that is as long as you still don't mind hosting us..."
"Of course," Priscilla replied with a laugh. "I don't really have any friends at home."
"That's a shocker."
"Shut up, Mulock." Priscilla shot him a sharp glare before continuing. "Anyways, if you two are there it'll save me a summer of just aimlessly wandering around my mansion."
"Oh the struggles of the rich," Mulock said dryly.
"Piss off, don't think I haven't noticed your tea drinking decorum," Priscilla snapped, pointing an accusing finger at the demon. "You definitely had a wealthy upbringing."
Mulock rolled his eyes but didn't argue.
"So," Priscilla continued, "are you guys going to want one bedroom or two?"
Mulock arched a brow. "And you ask...why?"
"I mean, you've been sharing a room for nearly a year. I wasn't sure if you'd want to be separated. Y'know, like having your dog sleep in your bed. Well...cat in this case." Priscilla's eyes widened as a sudden realization hit her. "Wait...does it ever get awkward sharing a bed?"
The demon's eyes narrowed. "Why the hell would it be awkward?"
"Just think about it."
Wheeler's cheeks had gone pink.
"I don't like what you're implying," Mulock said sharply. "Might I remind you, I'm a cat most of the time,"
"Most?"
"Well, sometimes I don't feel like transforming," the demon muttered.
"And next you're going to tell me the two of you cuddle."
"Oh, ha ha. Very funny. Stop trying to make it weird, Priscilla."
"Y-Yeah," Wheeler stammered. "There's nothing wrong with two teenage boys sharing a bed!"
"Wheeler," Mulock said through gritted teeth, "you're not helping."
Priscilla giggled now. "Oh calm down. I'm just messing with you, dweebs."
"Stop calling us dweebs," Mulock snapped. "It's important to strive for academic perfection."
"Oh my God, could you sound any nerdier--"
Suddenly a horn rang out, causing everyone in the stands to freeze. Almost immediately the audience began to rise to their feet, eyes set on a spot in the air at the arena's center.
"Is it starting?!" Wheeler asked, sounding nearly giddy with excitement.
"Better than that," Priscilla whispered back. "The Grand Emperor is about to arrive."
Wheeler froze, his eyes going wider than Mulock had even seen them (which was quite the feat considering his track record).
"The...Grand Emperor?" Wheeler repeated, something unreadable coming over his features.
"Yeah," Priscilla replied. "He scouts his imperial mages directly from the tournament. That's why graduating from the academy is the only way to become one."
Wheeler had begun to tremble, and Mulock was unable to hide the immediate concern that flooded his gaze. "Hey," he asked softly, "are you alright?"
Wheeler's only answer was a single, stiff nod.
The horn sounded again, even louder this time, echoing around them. In the air above the arena's center, a golden viewing box appeared. It floated high above the audience who excitedly gasped at the sight of it. In Mulock's opinion, the whole thing looked obnoxiously gaudy. The entirety of its surface was covered in large ornamental flowers compiled of thousands of jewels, thin vines made of pearls twisted around them.
Slowly, within the viewing box, figures began to appear.
Standing there was a group of boys, all dressed head to toe in white and gold. Falling from their shoulders were identical capes lined with golden fur, the fabric a deep scarlet. They were all blonde, glassy blue eyes staring blankly down at the audience.
"Those are the princes," Priscilla whispered. "See that one?" She pointed to the prince at the forefront. He stood taller than the others, his frustratingly perfect face the very definition of regal. "That's Emeric. He's the emperor's favorite. Everyone thinks he's going to be chosen as the Grand Emperor's heir."
And speaking of the Grand Emperor...
A hush fell over the crowd, everyone growing dead silent as a large figure appeared at the center of the box.
He was a giant of a man, over six feet tall with golden hair that framed a devastatingly handsome face. The emperor practically sparkled in the sunlight, dressed in layer after layer of silks and velvets, every inch of which was embellished with jewels and gold lacing. High on his head rested a massive golden crown, covered in rubies that seemed to drip from it. All together, the emperor looked more like a God than a real living man.
The grand emperor threw out his hands now and the entire arena erupted into deafening cheers.
"My people," he said, his thunderous voice booming around them. "I'm happy to welcome you to the imperial academy's two hundred and forty seventh tournament."
More cheers followed the declaration.
The emperor continued speaking but Mulock stopped listening the moment he saw the look on Wheeler's face.
The boy was watching the emperor as if in a trance, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks.
"It's really him," Wheeler choked, staring at the emperor as if he was staring directly into the sun. "He's actually there....right in front of me..."
"Um...yeah. That's the emperor alright," Mulock replied awkwardly. He knew Wheeler was easily excited, but he'd never pinned him as someone to get so starstruck.
Mulock began to dig around in his pockets, hoping to find something to dry Wheeler's eyes with, when he suddenly froze.
Wait. Wheeler's eyes.
He quickly looked back to the Grand Emperor. Unlike the icy blue of his sons, the emperor's eyes were a deep sea-green, almost identical to...
He glanced over the princes now, counting them over. One, two, three, four, five, his gaze finally fell to Emeric which made six.
So then...?
The demon stared at Wheeler, the realization hitting him like a stack of bricks.
Seven.
Wheeler was seven.
The seventh son born with an almost absurd amount of sheer dumb luck.
But that would mean Wheeler was actually a...
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.