"That child!" Nyuriel hissed, storming away from the Castle of Clubs, with his tail fluffed and whipping back and forth angrily. The creature in question was, of course, Clover whom he swore was lying about his Card Title. How could that arrogant, little thing be the Ace?!
One of these days, he swore that he was going to just snap and devour that rude mouth, sharp tongue and all! Then, what would it speak cruel words with? Nothing!
The images in his mind of what he planned to do turned quickly from vengeful to lust-driven, making him shake his head sharply as if to fling the inappropriate thoughts from him by that act alone. Even though he was alone in a forested area, it was embarrassing to realize that he was blushing. His passing became even more violent as he slashed at trees he passed, ignoring their shrieks as he was blinded by his emotions.
Nearing the border between Spades and Clubs, Nyuriel stopped and fretted about whether to cross and visit the Spade siblings or to remain. Truly, he did not have the patience to put up with Johanna's insistence to pet him nor Leon's desire to address what lay between himself and Clover. Mind made up for a little, the cat lept up into the boughs of the nearest tree and settled down for a nap. This, at least, would keep him occupied for a time.
The Black Kingdom of Chess was his, but it was very different from the Kingdoms of Cards.
His eyes were black, his clothes were black, his castle was black, his entire kingdom was decorated in black, and all things white were shunned. Unfortunately, his hair was not as black as the Steward would have it. In fact, his hair had a chunk of white in it at the very middle of his bangs, not to mention all the red highlights.
The white was, of course, unacceptable, but the red was a desirable genetic trait in kings as it meant they would do favorably on the battlefield and the time was coming for the Millennial War with the Cards in the hopes to earn back the Inner Lands that were fertile and green nearly year round.
This meant very little to Nuriel, as he was known back then, because he had no desire to fight anyone he had no personal quarrel with and perhaps if the kingdom focused more on bettering themselves and trading with other kingdoms for things it could not produce itself then maybe things wouldn't be so bad. Unfortunately, no one else seemed to see things the way that he did and anytime that he so much made a reference to such a thought, he was punished harshly and locked in his room for days on end. When he was finally let out, they would scold him for missing lessons that he could not attend while in solitary. Some greater power forbid he ask why they couldn't just give him his lessons in his room as he was king.
That usually got him back in his room for another day or two.
His sister was never treated like he was. She had free reign of the kingdom and took great pleasure in rubbing that in his face should he be so unlucky to see her. Unfortunately, she liked to drop by the library while he had study time just so that she could remind him how useless and ugly he was. It wasn't uncommon for her to blame him for their mother's death, either.
Their father had committed suicide and their mother had died in childbirth. Nuriel had only known the Steward, nannies, and his older sister; they were all of the opinion that the white hair was a bad omen and he was only saved from regicide by the red in his hair as they could not risk killing what might be their ticket to victory.
Being locked up was driving him mad and his tantrums grew uncontrollable, even to the point where he escaped once. The woods around the capital city were composed of petrified trees and struggling weeds, but it was heaven compared to the solid, unyielding black of his prison. He would gladly live in this grey and brown world if he could.
That had been the first time that he had ever seen a cat.
Curious as to what it was, he had spoken with it and become enchanted. This creature, to him, became the symbol of freedom. Though it was not especially well off, the cat was still doing far better than most in the city and spoke of only coming here out of curiosity. It was more than ready to return home and it spoke of it's wonderful home, lush with greenery, fat mice to eat, warm fireplaces to sleep beside, and heavy cream to drink.
Nuriel wanted to go there, wanted to be free, wanted to be anything but what he was, and so, he wished to be a cat as intangible as smoke and to be able to go where he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted.
And Wonderland made it so.
The trees whispered to one another, quietly as to not wake the cat, and told of what he had done to others nearby. When the one he slept on heard of it, the tree waved its branches vigorously and dropped the sleeping cat from his previous, comfy spot.
He woke up dizzy, sore, and grumpy at having met the ground so unexpectedly. Unfortunately, though for which party it is rather hazy, Nyuriel landed in a patch of flowers, the unpleasantly chatty kind.
"What an ugly fruit!"
"I've never seen such a thing and for that tree to have borne it, really!"
The cat's tail swished, accompanied by an eye twitch, and then he very calmly took a bite of flowers. Truly, they were a bit too much for him normally, but his irritation made their screams more satisfying than the taste was unpleasant. He took his time, biting off their tops one at a time and spitting out some that were not worth the taste.
Once done, he huffed at the tree that had dropped him, as that is what he had pieced together, and turned back toward the Castle of Clubs. Remembering his past was unpleasant, but he was sure that Lt. Fluffytail could distract him with ideas for running and training his beloved army of cats.
