𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃; ʜᴘ (𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃)

𝟏𝟏𝟖; ᴀ ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀ's ᴡᴏᴇs

NARCISSUS IS the Machiavellian, a master manipulator, a cunning strategist, and a true artist in the art of arranging people like flowers in a vase.

Narcissus just smiles.

From a young age, he has possessed the innate ability to understand others weaknesses and vulnerabilities, using them to his advantage.

His methods are akin to that of a florist, carefully selecting each person for their unique qualities and strengths, and arranging them in a pattern that serves his grand design. He knows that anyone can do it, but he is the best at it. It takes years of practice, and some may never be as good as he is. Narcissus is ever so good. He creates displays that are so pretty, so perfect, that they always get him what he wants in the end.

Astrophel sighed as he gazed at Narcissus. He maybe manipulative but he is Astrophel's.

He is a master of empty promises, knowing that they are like candles that light the world for a while and then disappear, leaving the world to return to the way it was before. He has crafted promises, carefully and meticulously, each one a true work of art made from all the flowers of the world. His promises are a true work of art, a masterpiece that he has spent lifetimes perfecting.

Draconian's heart felt as though it had been ripped from his chest as he stared at his older brother. The pained expression etched on his face spoke volumes of the anguish that he was feeling. He couldn't believe that his own flesh and blood could lie to him so blatantly.

The air was thick with tension as the two brothers stood face to face. Draconian's eyes bore into Narcissus's as he asked the question that had been weighing heavily on his mind.

"Does that mean everything you told me was a lie?" Draconian asked, barely able to keep his voice from shaking.

Narcissus let out a weary sigh, his expression one of resignation. "I lied to you, I've lied to everyone." He confessed, the weight of his words palpable in the air. "Though that doesn't mean everything I've told you was a lie." He added, attempting to ease the pain that was etched on Draconian's face.

But Draconian was having none of it. The betrayal he felt was too great, and his anger boiled to the surface. "It better be, or I swear, I'll kill you the exact same way I planned to for our father." He spat out, his voice filled with venom.

Narcissus chuckled in response. "Oh look at how much you've grown! Threatening me! I'm so proud of you!"

He is a Machiavellian, a charismatic and charming figure, but one with a dark and manipulative heart. He is the puppet master, pulling the strings of those around him, always one step ahead, always in control. Though despite his many flaws, there is a certain elegance to his methods, a certain beauty to his arrangements, that cannot be denied.

Narcissus is a complex character, both beautiful and cruel, a true enigma that draws people in and leaves them helpless in his grasp. He is a master of the game of life, always one step ahead of those around him, manipulating the pieces on the board to achieve his ultimate goal.

"Master of Life?" Narcissus chuckled, the sound echoing through the air.

"I may not be Ophiuchus, but I have lived countless lifetimes and traversed countless cycles of reincarnation. I have mastered the art of living." His voice was smooth and confident, the tone of a man who knew his own power.

As the words left his mouth, Narcissus' expression shifted, his eyes growing sharp and focused. The jesting tone vanished, replaced by a clear and unwavering determination.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make sure this is the last lifetime." He declared, his voice low and measured. There was a sense of finality in his words, a sense that he had made up his mind and nothing could shake his resolve.