Villain's Second Heart: Trapped in A Fantasy Novel (BL)-Chapter 9: The King’s Curse

[Name: Oberyn Omekia

HP: 20/400

MP: 0/50

Race: Nephilim

Level: 13

Class: Custom - 'Magician of Explosions']

"Okay, Mr. Bigshot level 13," Deek pouted, jealous. "And you're a whole ass Magician, huh? Well, you're still nowhere as cool as Mr. Rav. He's like, the greatest Magician to ever live."

"I never said you could look at that," Oberyn snapped. He dismissed the window, but not before Ezra and Deek got a good look at it.

"Your health is so low."

Ezra spoke quietly, concern apparent in the slight tremble of his voice.

"I'm fine," Oberyn said quickly. "I can handle myself."

"Yeah yeah, sleepyhead. Just this one time, since I'm feeling generous. Lemme get you something to eat, Fae-boy."

Deek traipsed away to the kitchen. As she entered, they could hear Cliff, the old man in the other room, complaining about something.

"None of the good food, damnit! Save my pickles, don't let them have my pickles!"

"Nobody wants your damn pickles, gramps!" Deek argued back.

As the two bickered in the other room, Ezra and Oberyn found themselves alone - and for once, neither of them was incapacitated or captive.

"So, uh..." Ezra mumbled in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"What?"

The fiery Nephilim put a hand on his hip and leaned to the side as he toyed with his hair, pushing it out of his face. He was still avoiding eye contact with Ezra.

"Is it cool if I...ask you some things?"

Oberyn gave Ezra the side-eye. "You just did, so yes, I suppose you can ask more."

Ezra smiled. It was a rough start, but a start nonetheless. He plopped onto the couch and looked at the Nephilim who still stood, standoffish.

"Nice to see you in clothes, by the way."

Oberyn tapped his foot. 'Damnit, why did I say that?' he thought.

"You're the one who ripped my shirt off," Ezra huffed. "Didn't seem like you minded me being shirtless before, though."

Oberyn turned his body so that he was facing completely away from Ezra. It was almost endearing how much he was avoiding any sort of eye contact, but the Nephilim could tell he was bright red.

"Yes, well...things were different back then."

"Nothing wrong with saying 'I'm sorry' after trying to murder someone, you know."

"Oh, I'm aware."

'That's no apology,' Ezra thought, but he didn't press it.

"So, where do we go from here?" Ezra asked. It was the lingering question between them that was begging to be answered.

Oberyn contemplated the question for a while, slightly distracted from the cacophony of yelling and banging from the kitchen as Deek verbally sparred with Cliff about every little thing.

"You can go back to whatever villainy you were up to before I found you," Oberyn decided. "I will return to Asteria alone. My official report is that I found nothing."

"What about your debt? You mentioned before the reason you wanted my Second Heart was to pay off your debt to some king?"

Oberyn wasn't usually so forthcoming, not with a human - but he supposed the clueless human couldn't do anything with a little information. It wasn't exactly a secret.

"The ruler of Asteria decreed that all Magicians fall under his command. The only way to be free is if a Magician presents an Apocalypse Engine to the king. But, as you may have surmised, Apocalypse Engines aren't exactly 'laying around' to be claimed."

"That's where the Harbinger stuff comes in, huh?" Ezra said, following along closely. "I'm guessing all Harbingers have one?"

"Yes. Apocalypse Engines are the reason this world's mana is in chaos. Though yours...seems to be doing a decent job at containing mana rather than releasing it."

"What's stopping you from just running away from the king?"

"Tch."

Oberyn stared at his feet. All he could think about was that fateful day, when he landed on the planet. Sent away from everything he'd ever known.

He was excited to be welcomed and greeted by the humans of Asteria - until he realized what was happening. He wasn't an ally, or even really a conscript - he was a slave to the empire.

"A curse." Oberyn rubbed his temple, eyes flickering with exhaustion. His fingers twitched before he clenched them into a fist. He hated showing weakness. "It's the reason my mana is so low."

"A curse?"

"That's what I said."

"But what does that mean, exactly? I lived in this world a total of fifteen seconds before you attacked me. I'm not exactly up-to-date on what's going on here."

"Does your other world not have 'curses'?" Oberyn questioned.

"I mean...we have the idea of curses," Ezra said. "But that's like, fantasy stuff. TV, movies, novels."

Oberyn's ears perked up at the mention of fantasy novels. Reading had been a favorite pastime of his on the moon. In the past two months, he'd hardly so much as seen a book.

"If you really must know, it's a curse that only affects Magicians. It drains magic from my body and returns it to the king. If I am to ever replenish my magic, I need to return to him and receive more, lest I succumb to the mana fatigue."

The words were delivered so matter-of-factly, but it was hard for Ezra to hear. Oberyn wasn't just some military grunt, nor was he someone indebted to an empire. He was a prisoner, being held hostage by his own powers.

"Oberyn, I..."

"Lunch time! Eat up, you two!"

Deek pattered into the room with two heaping plates of food - leftovers, naturally, but it still looked delicious. She handed Oberyn a plate of meat and potatoes, covered in gravy and spice that uplifted the soul. Ezra, on the other hand, is given some kind of goopy, green mush.

"There you go!" Deek chirped, looking pleased with herself. She plopped back onto her chair and started picking at her nails.

Ezra looked back and forth between his plate and Oberyn's. "May I ask what this is?" he said, trying to sound grateful.

"Three-day-old pea soup. Sorry it dried out a little bit. Oh, and for Mr. Nephilim, that's braised beef with roasted potatoes, served with my world-famous gravy!"

"It looks delicious, Deek, thank you." Oberyn bowed his head politely for the food, and reluctantly sat on the couch next to Ezra. They were sitting so closely that as Oberyn grabbed his fork, he accidentally bumped elbows with Ezra.

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"Oh, sorry," Oberyn said quickly, scooting a bit further left.

Ezra smiled. He didn't mind - the food on the other hand...now that was a different story."

"Eat up, stupid. You two are gonna do me a BIG favor after you eat, so you better chow down quick!"