Screams of Silence

ETIENNE VON SYLVA HAD SERVED HIS MASTER faithfully for many eons. He’d follow his master from glory to ruin and wouldn’t exchange his position for anything. He’d been there during the glory days when his master had been high ranking within his court. He’d served as the man prepared to take over said court and he’d served during the resulting banishing that had caused.

He had been lucky to be acquired by such a loving, honor-bound man as Lord Yyevon von Sylva. He wasn’t naive. He had noticed how the other members of the court treated his kind - his kind being low ranking demons called the Ildyr -and how they would sometimes appear with a new personal servant after only a couple of years. His master was given grief time and time again for his refusal to get rid of Etienne. The members of the court had expressed their disappointment that someone of Lord Yyevon’s caliber would continue to associate with a filthy and lowly being as he; an Ildyr ranked so low in power and ability, he could not even shift forms properly.

He’d gone from being called the loyal servant of the Sylva clan to being called Yyevon’s lowly pet - sometimes even referring to him as some common incubusal whore. His master had assured him that as long as he lived, Etienne would stay by his side.

Time and time again, the man had been true to his word. Even as the craze and popularity of taming an Ildyr servant waned down into capturing humans, Lord Yyevon did not fall into the craze. He had kept Etienne as his one and only servant.

Etienne, his diminutive figure wrapped up in his favorite orange jacket (it was a gift from his master some few years ago - it was slightly ragged from years of use but still served its purpose), stood outside of the cabin that he and his master had been calling home for the past few weeks, staring up at the reason he had been outside for longer than what was warranted. There was a small hole in the roof.

Ordinarily, he wouldn’t care much for damages to the cabin, but this one was an annoyance. It caused the cabin’s fireplace to go out faster than it usually did. And that was causing his master to get noticeably agitated.

Etienne looked through the window to see his master in the same spot he had been in for days now. Sat in a chair, his tall frame hunkered over with his once luscious locks of midnight silk falling stringy and dull around his sullen face. The once vibrant ruby jewels that shined with warmth and intelligence stared into the fireplace, dull and listless with a unfocused glaze over them.

Etienne made his way back inside, stopping at his master’s side to call out to him. Receiving no response, he worried his bottom lip with a tiny, sharp canine, turning towards the single queen sized bed in the cabin.

It had to have been the size, Etienne reasoned to himself. Maybe it was because their chosen abode was so small, it was making his master uneasy and listless. The small cabin could easily be fitted into one of the bathrooms of the Sylva’s old manor.

Twice over.

There was little to nothing in the small cabin save the chair his master sat in, the bed, and a pile of blankets which served as Etienne’s sleeping area. He walked over to the the chest that sat in between the small area, opening it and pulling out a dusty old tome. He trotted back over to his master, carrying the book on his head with a wide smile playing on his face.

The tome was something his master was always fond of. He’d have Etienne read it to him whenever he was in need of entertainment.

Etienne plopped down on the floor next to his master and flipped open the tome. He shucked off his orange jacket and folded it neatly beside him, looking up at his master’s still form for a moment before turning his gaze towards the book.

His light ambers skimmed over the page briefly, flipping pages as necessary to find the place where he’d last left off. The ancient tome told the history of different Courts that were in power back when the book was written.

Finding his place, he made a noise of triumph and began to read slowly. ”Nam sæculorum, Sylva in sanguine fuerit omnem invidiam in atrio," Etienne read. He was never a strong reader but his master always encouraged him to try. Etienne continued, not noticing his master had turned to look at him with a slight scowl on his face.

"Multa in uoluisse nubere sanguine natos pater optime novi gerendum - a sanguine potentiora.”

His master’s pale, hands clawed into the woodwork of the chair he was in, his ire rising.

“Quod nusquam in nomine vindicandi sibi vellet-” Etienne was cut short of finishing when the tome was suddenly ripped from his hands. He looked up in shock as his master glowered down at him. The man revved his hand back and slapped Etienne across the face. Etienne held a hand to his stinging cheek, staring up in a mixture of confusion, hurt, and fear as his master towered over his much smaller form.

This had been the first time his master had struck him. He wasn’t sure what he did to cause such a reaction but knew he would probably find out soon.

He watched as his master tossed the tome into the fireplace, causing the flames to roar to life briefly as more food was added to their dying embers. “I do not wish to listen to such things,” Yyevon rasped in a low, throaty growl. He stepped over Etienne’s cowering form and made his way to the bed.

Etienne scrambled to his feet, pushing his feelings aside to serve his master. He dashed past his slow walking master and pulled the covers down. Yyvevon said nothing as he settled down under the sheets as Etienne pulled the rest of the blankets up over him.

He plopped down on the floor, lowering his mop of shoulder-length cobalt head, awaiting further instructions.

“Fix the hole. I’m sick of feeling snow falling on me. Dismissed,” Yyevon turned his back to Etienne.

Etienne looked up slowly at his master’s back, a sad frown slowly forming on his face. His lip quivered as he stood up and made his way over to his sleeping area.

It had to have been the size, Etienne reasoned to himself. Maybe it was because their chosen abode was so small, it was making his master uneasy and restless. The small cabin could easily be fitted into one of the bathrooms of the Sylva’s old manor.

Twice over.

It was the only explanation of why his once warm and loving master seemed so cruel like the others from his court.

Nether Covet, filled with the most egotistical and power hungry Pyrs of the entire world.

His master had tried to change the court and the court wanted nothing to do with the humility he wanted to introduce.

Etienne pulled a small white and black cat plush his master had gotten made for him some eons ago. The ears had to be restitched and it had lost an eye, but it was another gift his master had bestowed upon him and one he still treasured. He fingered the small bat wings that had been added almost as an after thought to the toy. He looked at his master’s back and sighed silently.

He turned his back towards his master, curling around the small plush and falling into an uneasy sleep.