Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

"...Soren."

A voice of steady certainty. A pale face with intellectual eyes of deep honey eyes and delicate lashes. A body, frail under the loose white clothing from where he sat up in the bed.

Atlas Rosenbaum.

He'd been distant in the original's lifetime, but he'd also been polite. It was a careful distance, unlike Erlen's wild dislike or Vincent's cold indifference. In the end, they hinted Atlas to be a quiet youth before the coma.

If not for Soren, he would have died.

And Atlas was aware of that. Thus, before Soren could even speak, Atlas bowed lightly. "Thank you for saving my life, Soren."

The fifth prince was a little startled and blinked widely at Atlas in confusion. His intention was to barge in and force... kindly request of the strategy genius to make a plan.

That's why the reactions he was prepared for were surprise, annoyance, or anger.

Not this.

Atlas lifted his head, wisps of dark hair brushing against his thin cheeks. He looked at Soren calmly with no expression on his face. Considering the amount of time he spent asleep, his mental age had fallen behind his physical age.

"I didn't do anything."

"You did a lot." said Atlas, slowly stretching his hands in front of his eyes in a daze. Like he was still lost in a dream, so dreadfully long. "I thought I'd never wake up."

Soren looked at him lightly.

Atlas continued. "What nobody considered, was that I was alive the entire time. I heard the conversations flow by my ears while my eyes saw nothing. I couldn't move, couldn't talk. It was like being strapped to a bed in the darkness, not knowing how long had passed or if you'd ever escape."

His eyes flickered back to Soren with unnerving calmness. "It was torture. And you saved me from that."

Atlas was honest, having few secrets unless they were absolutely necessary. Soren was taken back by that, but also appreciated it and decided to treat Atlas in the same manner.

Treat people the way you wanted to be treated.

Wasn't that how it went?

Although several people would question how Soren actually wanted to be treated if he said that phrase aloud.

"You need something from me, don't you?"

Soren finally spoke. "Yes."

"I thought so." Atlas blinked and shuffled on the bed, patting an empty space on the bed that wasn't too close to him, considering Soren's personality. "Would you like to sit down?"

Soren didn't hold back, walking over and sitting leisurely. "Thank you."

He was also polite -- to the people he cared to treat in that manner.

"I will be blunt, little brother." said Atlas, straightening his back. "I do wish to help you, but I also will refuse anything that compromises the safety of the people. I have heard of your reputation, but I've also heard of your change. Even so, I have to tell you, that if it is a ridiculous request, I won't hesitate to turn you down."

To Atlas, Soren and he were strangers who shared the same blood. A brother who he hadn't interacted much with after keeping to himself, and hadn't watched grow up.

All Atlas knew were the rumours — both the bad and the good.

"In fact, a friend of yours spoke a little of you during your absence."

"What?"

Atlas seemed to rummage through his thoughts. "It was some time ago. He was a guest of Vincent, having arrived a month before I woke up. He spoke to me once, when I was going on a walk."

The name lingered at the edge of Soren's tongue. "...Raphael."

"He said, and I quote, 'The idiot you're asking about is somebody who is suspicious, lazy and utterly annoying. But you should be careful to believe in rumours, when they could be the opposite. Only trust your eyes, that idiot isn't so bad.'"

"Although I intended to witness what sort of person you were with my own eyes regardless."

"....." Soren ignored the earlier phrase and said, "How did you know I saved you?"

Atlas tilted his head. "The evidence was so poorly hidden I assumed you wanted me to know."

"....."

Well, Soren hadn't really tried to hide the fact. He didn't directly give it, and preferred to have gone unnoticed, but only to a certain extent.

"So, little brother. What would you like me to help you with?" asked Atlas again, a hint of anticipation in his eyes. If Deimos was like a strangely attached dog, Atlas was like a sly, beautiful cat that had gotten attached.

Soren shivered at the thought subconsciously. They were trouble, the both of them. However, they were also necessary.

In addition, that lingering feeling at the back of his mind — the original's own feelings — had risen again, stirring an unusual happiness in Soren that made him feel bothered.

However, he didn't leave the room. "You've heard of the trouble in the capital."

"Yes, I have."

"Did you have any plans for it?"

"Were you looking for one?" asked Atlas, returning the question. "If you're looking for one, then you have an outline too, don't you?"

"Yeah."

Atlas stretched to the side and pulled out a piece of paper, along with an expensive pen. He grabbed a large book on his table and spread the items on the bed between them.

"Then, let's not waste any time."

The next few hours had gone by fast. There were many additions to the plan, and it was far from simple. The Haze Kingdom. Uriel. The Third Religion. All three were a difficult force to go against.

"The Haze Kingdom is in chaos currently, with Uriel and the King acting as Tyrants. People are locked in their room, or hopelessly devoted to the Third Religion after Uriel saved their life." explained Atlas. "The main issue, is that they are slowly spreading their rule into other territories, chipping away little by little."

"People believe in the Third Religion?"

"It's a sort of manipulation. The Third Religion seems truly magical. Even if they've committed crimes, there's no proof of it. They had been more low-key, so the spread of their influence couldn't have been predicted."

If it continued, there would be a power imbalance.

The Third Religion's main goal seemed to be converting people to their religion, through unrealistic promises and fanatical performances, or fear and desperation.

"They intend to start a war with us." said Atlas with absolute confidence. "Their goal doesn't stop at manipulating the citizens of the Haze Kingdom, but the entire continent.

"Their leader wants to become a God." added Soren.

"Who told you of that?"

"His subordinate."

"I see." Atlas didn't question it and quickly adapted. "There are several requirements to become a God."

"...there's a method?"

"I've heard of it, though the feasibility of it is unrealistic, and it isn't guaranteed to work. It's more of a myth, I suppose."

"The requirements?"

"One. Faith, also known as belief. A God is respected and revered by their people. A person with no believers cannot become a God."

Atlas continued, scribbling on the paper. "Two. Power beyond human capability. Power that can rival other gods. A weak human cannot become a God."

"The next?"

"Three. A title acknowledged by all. For that step, I have little information that explains it, unfortunately."

"Right now, he is going after the first." said Soren, scanning the paper that had been covered in thoughts and ideas.

"That's correct. And what plan do you have to stop this, little brother?"

Soren thought deeply. "I'll cut one of his methods off."

"How?" Atlas leaned closer, intrigued.

"Faith through fear, or trust." said Soren slowly. "We'll make it so people can't trust them anymore."

Atlas stared at him unblinkingly. In his zone, playing his role as what he did best, Atlas gave off an imposing air. As if every word spoke would stir up a new idea in his mind.

"I have proof of their crimes."

Damien had throughly investigated the Third Religion after Soren's intervention. There were likely pages and pages of deeply hidden secrets — that would be simple. The question was, how they would spread it.

It had to be in a large, flashy manner. In a way people wouldn't be able to ignore, unable to forget.

Atlas' eyes gleamed as his hand flew across the paper, speaking quickly. "Brilliant. I know of the perfect event for that. We need only to think of a method to reveal it."

Knock, knock.

The sound echoed through the room. Both Atlas and Soren snapped their heads up and turned to look at the door.

"Who is it?" said Atlas in a calm tone.

"A person who thinks that he should be involved in the plan you two are making." came the reply deeply.

Soren almost swore.

Atlas paused. "Raphael? Come in."

Under the impression that Raphael was Soren's friend, he had unknowingly doomed his younger brother.

Raphael opened the door casually, waving one hand in greeting as he walked over. His clothes still lingered with a scent of dried blood, but his behaviour was as if he hadn't gotten injured at all.

'Inhuman.' thought Soren as Raphael stepped over the bed, eyes examining the paper.

As if he read Soren's mind, Raphael turned to look at Soren. "As much as I appreciate you helping me, I'm not one to sit and nurse my wounds, waiting for orders."

"I'll unbandage your wounds." threatened Soren.

"Try it." offered Raphael.

Soren stood up and stretched out his hand obediently, and Raphael stepped back quickly.

"You were actually going to do it?"

"Yeah. You gave me permission."

"....." A long, typical sigh that always dragged out when Raphael spoke to the fifth prince. He turned his head back to the paper, standing a safe distance away. "What you're looking for is a distraction, isn't it?"

Soren stopped trying to snatch back the bandages and nodded. "The aim is to be dramatic."

"So you want a show?" Raphael gave a lopsided grin. "Isn't that perfect? I’m rather experienced in that.”

"Your plan?"

Raphael's eyes flickered to Atlas, who had watched the two curiously. "The event, it's a large ball, right?"

"Yes, it is."

"We'll crash it." Raphael's hands smoothly crossed the paper, his bold handwriting flowing onto the page, brimming with the same confidence he alluded. "Make it so they'll never be able to get back from it, yeah? Ruin them so thoroughly, they'll no longer be threats."

Soren's eyes trailed after the swift movements of the protagonist's rough hands. "Will you use the other princes?"

"Of course. They're the best assets — willing to. Deimos, talented in illusion magic, can make everything all the more grander. More so, he can be the perfect distraction for us to sneak in."

"And Erlen? Vincent?"

"Erlen had a personal grudge with the Haze nobility, so he'll serve as a watch guard in case anything goes wrong. He's a fighter, so we'll us him as one." Raphael circled the page roughly and scribbled out more words. "Vincent has all the power. He can get us in, and take care of the aftermath. All the politics I can't bother figure out."

Soren was quiet for a moment before he said, "I have people with me who could be of help."

"Go on. Describe them."

".....what?"

"Describe them." Raphael lifted his eyes and raised a brow. "Can't do it? Just tell me what you've seen with your own eyes."

"Brioc." said Soren slowly, seeming to shuffle through his thoughts with deep concentration. "Psychopathic. Excels in violent magic. Blood-thirsty."

"Continue."

".....The Selkie Princess, Vendra. Swift, agile." He paused, seeming to get stuck before continuing. "Kind. Gentle. Wants to... save the world."

Raphael was patient, placing down the pen in his hand as his gaze firmly rested on Soren. "And?"

"Alvara. Young. A necromancer who doesn't know how to use her powers."

"Anything about her personality?" asked Raphael. "It's hard to use a person when you don't know how they'll behave."

Soren blinked. "Awkward. Clumsy. In a way... mature."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Aren't you forgetting one?" wondered Raphael. "A teenager who stayed by your side so loyally only months ago."

Soren had a bad habit of forgetting people, or only focusing on what was in front of him when it came to relationships. In doing so, he'd forgotten that there were people who wouldn't abandon him so quickly.

Slowly he said, "Damien."

"He is...?"

"The leader of the Fox Tribe. Calm. Mature, observant."

"Well look at that. Don't you have quite a few friends, little prince?"

Soren scowled, and Raphael laughed. Atlas remained on the side, quietly watching as his eyes flickered at the page, analyzing every situation, along with all the people Soren had mentioned.

Raphael went back to the page after having his fun, tapping it lightly with his pen. "Everybody will have a role to play. This world won't be saved with only two people."

"You're quite certain of success." remarked Atlas suddenly.

Raphael shrugged lazily, his dark eyes deep in thought. "I've been promised — this won't end in failure."

The protagonist placed the pen down and stepped back, leaning against the wall as his arm gently wrapped around his waist from where he stood.

"You'll need to contact Damien and ask about the information he has. If there isn't enough, we'll sneak in and steal some more. The Haze Kingdom's King isn't the brightest."

"The King's son is in the back." said Soren.

Raphael cared little. "If he has no interest in joining hands with his father, then we'll include him in the plan. If he betrays us..." His eyes darkened slightly. "...we'll treat him with the same respect.

Atlas smoothed over the paper and interjected, "What will you do regarding the Death Saint, Celine Isda?"

"There is one more thing I learned." said Soren suddenly.

Both eyes turned to him, and he continued. "Celine is with the Third Religion because they can promise something."

"And that is...?"

"Uriel's life."

Raphael froze in surprise. "Uriel? As in, the angel Uriel?"

"Yes." Soren's words filled the air. "Celine will destroy the world to save her sister."

"Then, little prince. Do you know where her sister is?"

"No. But..."

Soren's most unique and irreplaceable weapon in this world was the knowledge that flowed in his head of events that none could predict. 

Celine's betrayal wasn't something covered by the book, and Uriel's whereabouts wasn't explicitly told.

But he had a guess. If the heaven's had to hide an angel — somewhere Celine couldn't reach even if she scoured the world — where would they put them?

If Celine was searching, that was because she knew Uriel was somewhere here, within these airs. There were few places that would work. Far away from humans, hidden away from ex-angels. Where none could find it.

The Forest of Beginnings and Endings was one option. But it wasn't feasible — one only needed to long for Uriel so badly all they could see was the slumbering angel, and they would find her.

A person could be considered a destination, and that forest lead to all places.

There were two other forests spoken about in the book. All three with unique and special properties, all three dangerous and mysterious.

The Forest of Good and Evil. A path that would separate those with ill thoughts and those with pure thoughts in a way that wasn't black and white. It'd scavenge through memories, rummage through them and observe.

It'd make you observe it too.

In the original novel, Raphael had found his purpose again after witnessing all the memories flash by his eyes.

Uriel would not be sleeping there.

The Forest of the Lost. That was where Soren hypothesized that she would be, hidden in their never ending maze.

It lured those who were confused, about life, about relationships, about anything, into their twisting paths until they were trapped, unable to escape. Those who died after desperately searching for a way out would be tied to the forest, forever.

The only way to escape the forest's allure was to be dead. But those who died within the forest were bound by invisible chains.

If Uriel was forced into her sleep there, she would be in a half-dead state. The forest would consume her, binding her.

It was a place where nobody could bring her back.

And it was perfect.

Soren explained his thoughts as briefly as possible, while Atlas and Raphael listened patiently. If the Third's Religion power could be broken, they would not be able to stand so tall.

Celine was a person who cared for only one thing.

And a person who only wanted one thing was the easiest to lure in. All you had to do was make a promise, a guarantee. Proof that you could make their wish come true.

"But, the requirements for the Forest of the Lost contradict each other." muttered Atlas with a tilt of his head, a slight pout on his cheeks as he felt the frustration of not being able to think of an idea.

Raphael mulled over the worlds and stared at Soren. "Hey, little prince."

"What?"

"You said you had a necromancer in your group, didn't you? If it's her, she can enter the forest and exit. If she learns to use her mana in a way that can cover her and another person, two people can find Uriel."

It was a possibility. "Which other person?"

Raphael lifted his chin lightly and grinned. "I think it's time to visit your little butler again, Ren."