Running.
With those words, chaos rang out. Arrows were shot, blades were swung, and screams were heard. Amiera dropped to the floor, crawling her way toward a nearby table that was overturned for cover. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one with that idea, as both of her brothers were already behind the table, also taking cover. She looked over the both of them, making sure neither of them had any wounds. When she found none, she leaned back against the hard surface, closing her eyes to help calm herself. She immediately sat back up when she remembered something, or rather someone, important.
Aeryn.
Peeking over the top of the wood surface, she searched the carnage for Ryn. She relaxed slightly upon seeing the sorceress kicking ass, in high heels no less. Amiera hadn’t even noticed the thin, modest, silver heels Ryn was wearing. They paired wonderfully with her dress, but that was the least of Ami’s worries right now.
Her main concern, was that her and her brothers made it out of the ballroom in one piece. She looked around, trying to find an escape route, when her scouting was interrupted. A surly looking, bulky man grabbed onto her roughly, yanking away from her brothers and pulling her into the fray.
“What, sweetheart?” his rough voice asked teasingly, “Looking to get away?” The sound of his voice made her stomach drop, and her eyes widened in fear. Ryn heard the encounter, and looked up from her place of kneeling in a soldier’s back.
“Let her go!” she shouted, rising from the soldier’s back, but stepping on his back to keep him down.
“What are you gonna do if I don’t?” the man sneered back.
Aeryn smirked, which Amiera found to be way more attractive than it should have been, and kneeled down beside the man whose ass she had thoroughly kicked. She grabbed a fistful of hair, lifting his face from the floor. Forcefully, she slammed his head back down on the floor, effectively knocking him out, and assuring he’d stay down. Standing to her full height, Ryn did something unexpected. She slammed her heels, first right then left, on the floor, breaking off the heels of her shoes. She picked up the severed heels, seemingly thinking over what to do with them. Amiera watched, stunned, as she threw them both, and in mid air, they transformed into silver tipped twin daggers. The daggers imbedded themselves in both the captor’s eyes, killing him instantly.
His blood splattered on Ami’s shoulder, but she hardly noticed in her haste to get away from his now dead body. She bolted in the direction of her brothers, grabbing onto both of them and pulling them along with her as she sprinted to the grand staircase. The three of them made it almost the entire way up the stairs and out the door, when suddenly, tragedy struck.
Arrows were being fired at their backs as they raced up the stairs. Most struck the stone of the staircase, but then Amiera felt a tug on her left hand. The one being held by Rhys. She turned her head in his direction, and almost screamed at what she saw. An arrow was embedded in the right side of his chest, likely very close to his lung. Rhys looked down and saw the arrow, and then he was down. The crown prince of Decorus was lying on the stone staircase, bleeding out. Ami crouched down next to Rhys, arrows still reigning down all around her. Elian turned when he felt the absence of her beside him. He turned, and was almost frozen in shock. He was only saved by his princely reflexes, kneeling beside Ami and protecting them behind a shield. Amiera had no idea where he had gotten the shield, but she had no time to worry about it. She was too busy applying pressure to the worsening wound in Rhys’s chest. She was pressing down, hard, while tears filled her eyes and she whispered what she hoped were comforting words to Rhys.
“You’re okay,” she sniffled, “You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”
Rhys weakly lifted one of his hands and placed it on top of both of hers. He looked at her, blood on the edge of his mouth, and smiled. With labored breathing, he looked over both her and Elian, who was also shedding tears, and reassured both of them.
“I’m okay.” He said the words slowly, pausing a little too long between words. He reached his bloodied hand up, cupping Amiera’s face and rubbing her cheek with his thumb. Amiera felt the tears coming faster, as she positioned her shaking hand over his. She turned her face, pressing a soft kiss to Rhys’s palm. She could tell that their time together was running out. And they both knew it. “Take care of each other. For me.” With a few more strained breaths, Rhys chest stopped moving up and down, the hand cupping her cheek went limp, and his eyes turned cold and unseeing.
Crown prince Rhys Bayard Flynn Norac was dead.
Amiera sat on that step, her hands covered in the blood of her lifeless brother. Her oldest brother. The one who would let her sleep in his bed when she had a nightmare. The one who would let her complain to him for hours about their mother. The one who hugged her while she cried after she told him of her feelings for Aeryn. The one who was set to become Decorus’s next great king. The one who was his brother’s best friend, and his sister’s best comfort. The one who made the kingdom so much brighter.
It hurt. It fucking hurt.
Her chest felt tight, her soft cries turning into heart wrenching sobs. Her vision blurred through the tears. Time seemed to slow to a stop, the only sounds being her sobs and the Elian’s soft sniffles. It was like she couldn’t move. She was glued to those stone steps, clutching onto Elian while Rhys’s blood stained the stone beneath him. There was so much. Covering her hands, soaked into her dress, smeared on her cheek. It completely surrounded her.
Slowly, her sorrow turned into anger. Anger at herself for not being able to help Rhys, anger at the archer who shot the arrow that killed him, hells she was even angry at Rhys himself for leaving her and Elian by themselves. But all of this was just anger. In a larger, more in control part of her, there was rage. Rage at the fact that the fighting was still going on. Rage that no one, not a soul, had noticed the fallen prince on the stone steps. But ultimately, there was one main source of her rage.
Prince Henrik.
She didn’t even have to turn around to know there was a slimy smirk on his face, his blue eyes gleaming in victory. Like he was just going to scoop her up and bring her back to his kingdom. Like he had finally got his prize. Like he had won.
Amiera didn’t really think about what she was going to do. She just acted. She acted by carefully pulling the arrow out of Rhys’s chest. She removed it slowly, almost like she was expecting him to cry out, telling her that it hurt. With the arrow removed, she finally rose from her spot next to Rhys. Her dress was no longer white and orange, as the fiery color had turned into a blood orange, while the pure white had been saturated into a vermillion.
She turned toward the ongoing violence, paying no mind to the chaos raining down on her. Slowly, purposefully, she made her way down the grand staircase.
“Ami?” Elian called from behind her. She did not turn around. She couldn’t. She had her focus on one thing and one thing only.
Giving Henrik Mansfield III what he deserves.
She did not hurry. She took her time. One step at a time, she made it to the bottom of the staircase. Her aura was murderous as her heels clicked across the floor. Her steps were barely audible in the cacophony of battle sounds. Maybe, she supposed, that is why Henrik did not hear as she approached his back. Battle raged around them, and maybe that is why no one noticed as she plunged an arrow into his shoulder. The same one that was used to murder her brother. ‘How poetic,’ she thought as she twisted the arrow, causing Henrik to cry out in pain.
Henrik whipped around, she assumed to see his assailant. He didn’t even get the chance to look shocked, as she swiftly delivered a punch to his nose, hard enough to break it. He reeled back, promptly falling on his ass. Amiera didn’t stick around to see how he would retaliate. She took off towards the one thing she couldn’t leave without.
Aeryn Krea Sabelina Whitlock.
She had used her power to summon her famous bow and was making arrows out of her magic. She had it aimed upward, toward where Henrik’s archers had taken up for cover. The arrows were white and airy, but were anything but as they struck down enemy archers. Pure light pierced the soldiers where the arrows hit, burning them from the inside out.
When she saw the Amiera running in her direction, her bow disappeared in a burst of white light, making it much easier for the princess to grab her hand and drag her along beside her. She did not resist, which Ami was grateful for. They took off through what was left of the ballroom, weaving through the chaos that had still yet to slow down.
Amiera could see Elian in the distance. He had taken off his coat and laid it over Rhys. He was still sitting next to him, holding Rhys’s hand and running his thumb over the back of his knuckles.
He looked up at the sound of their pounding footsteps. He jumped up from his position on the stairs, preparing to follow the two women out of the castle. He looked down at where his coat didn’t quite cover up Rhys’s face. He reached down, moving the rest off of his brother’s face. His eyes ran over Rhys face, their face, for what he knew would be the last time. He turned away just as Ami and Ryn made it to the stairs. He ran up ahead of them, as he couldn’t bare to be stuck in the palace for any longer.
Ami and Ryn were right behind him, hot on his heels. The two of them stopped only once; to say their final goodbyes to Rhys. As she came to the step where Rhys laid, Ami crouched down, just as she had what felt like just moments ago. Determined not to cry again she looked at her left hand, more specifically, the ring on her middle finger. It was modest. A pale green stone clothed in gold wire. She wore a matching one on her right hand; with an onyx stone in contrast. She had bought them both on one of her many trips to Kry. She had bought them because they reminded her of the bond she shared with her brothers. Green for Elian; Brown for Rhys. ‘How ironic,’ she thought now. She took the green and gold ring off her finger and placed it into Rhys’s hand. Letting out a shaky breath, she closed her brother’s icy fingers over the ring.
“Now you’ll always have a part of us.” she whispered, finally standing up and leaving Rhys behind.
Forever.
She grabbed onto Ryn’s hand once again and they took off, exiting first the ballroom, then the palace, and finally escaping into the night.
☀︎
It was daybreak by the time the trio made it to Orane. Aeryn had suggested the small village to the east of the palace, based solely on the fact that her sibling lived there. She said that he could help. And Amiera believed her. So, the three of them each stole a horse for themselves and rode eastward until they came upon the small village.
The sun goddess had just started on her journey across the sky when the trio arrived at Aeryn’s sibling’s home. It was a modest cottage, just outside the village. Vines and other florals all over the outside of the house, as well as the walkway up to the front door. The cottage itself was humble, built with white stained bricks and mortar, likely magically reinforced. There were only two visible windows from the front of the house, which Ami thought was probably smart idea. They were on the outskirts of a village after all.
The group approached the front door, Amiera and Elian a little uneasily. Aeryn, however, waltzed right up to the front door, knocking forcefully enough to be heard. A few moments later, someone opened the door. Ami hardly got the chance to look at the person before Ryn launched herself at them, wrapping them up in a tight hug. From what she could see, the person had fiery red, shoulder length hair, steely, gray eyes, and golden skin touched by the sun goddess herself. When Ryn finally let go of the person, Ami could see that they were covered in freckles, much like their sister.
“Aeryn!” the person exclaimed, “What are you doing here?” The person’s face was a mix of happiness at seeing their sister and confusion as to why they were seeing their sister. Now that Ami got the chance to look at them, the person shared a strong resemblance to Agnola Whitlock, which was no surprising considering that she was their mother.
The person finally looked past Ryn and saw Ami and Elian standing behind her. They looked back at Ryn with a raised eyebrow, as if they were saying, ‘who the hell are these people?’
Aeryn, picking up on this, quickly introduced the people behind her. “This is Prince Elian Maceo Adar Norac,” she spoke, nodding at Elian. Her sibling’s eyes went wide, looking between Ryn and Elian. Ryn moved away from her sibling and came to stand beside Ami and threw her arm around the princess’s shoulders, forcing a smile onto Ami’s face. “And this is Princess Amiera Kione Nadia Joya Norac.” Ryn’s sibling’s eyes got even bigger, which Ami didn’t think was possible, and their mouth dropped open.
Amiera couldn’t blame them for their reaction. She would react the same if her sister showed up at her house in a torn dress, accompanied by two people wearing blood soaked clothes, who claim to be royalty. She smiled meekly at them, trying to show that she understood how crazy the situation was. She looked over at Elian to see how he was taking the situation, only to see him gazing at Ryn’s sibling with a star struck look on his face. ‘Gods above,’ she thought, ‘We just got here and the god of love is already sending doves this way.’
“Your highnesses,” Aeryn spoke, snapping Ami out of her thoughts, “Meet Jamys Doran Amore Whitlock.”
☾
After Jamys snapped out of their shock and invited the party in, they sat down in the small living room. There was a few different pieces of furniture to sit in, but Ami decided to take a wooden chair by the window. There was another chair beside her’s, but it remained empty as the others decided to sit in one of the other chairs around the room. As soon as the three had sat down, questions started flowing. Most of them revolved around the blood staining all of their clothes. Jamys was panicked at first, thinking it was Aeryn’s blood. They gave her a thorough check over, trying to find a wound until she explained that the blood wasn’t hers. “Who’s is it then?” Jamys asked, a mix of confusion and worry in their voice.
Ami looked between Ryn and Elian, neither looked up to answer that question. In all honesty, she wasn’t either. But, someone had to give Jamys an answer. She took a deep breath, trying desperately not to cry. “The blood belongs to Rhys Bayard Flynn Norac. Crown prince of Decorus—”
“—And our brother,” Elian finished.
Ami couldn’t help it. The tears starting bubbling up again and this time she couldn’t stop them from falling. The tears cascaded down her face in waves. Her makeup was by far ruined at this point, between the dried tear tracks and the new ones being created even now. The silent tears soon turned into gut wrenching sobs. It was like she couldn’t stop. Just when she thought she had let everything out, another wave would bubble over, and fresh tears would flow.
Elian moved away from his seat on the other side of the room and came to sit beside her, quickly taking her in his arms as she sobbed. Ami immediately wrapped her arms around her brother, clinging onto him tightly, afraid that if she let go he would be gone. Just like Rhys was. Ami laid her head on Elian’s shoulder, sobbing into his royal suit. She was getting tears and makeup all over it but she couldn’t care any less. Elian’s hand came up to stroke her hair, messing up her ponytail in the process, but Ami didn’t care about that either. She only cared that her brother was there to hold her. At the moment, that was all she needed.
As they sat there, Ami could hear that Elian was crying too. She heard his soft sniffles that he was undoubtedly trying to hide, likely thinking that he needed to be strong for her. She felt as the tears fell from his face onto her hair. She could do nothing but squeeze him tighter.
So they stayed there. Brother and sister, holding each other for comfort. Neither one prepared to let go.
Amiera knew that she never would be.
☀︎
By the time the siblings had composed themselves, the sun had began to peek out, and the birds were singing their morning calls. Aeryn and Jamys had left the room awhile ago, giving Ami and Elian some time to get all their emotions out. The two came back into the room just as Ami had wiped away the last of her tears. They both had a sympathetic look in their eye, which made Ami feel worse. She didn’t want to be pitied; she wanted to run a sword through the person who killed her brother. She wanted to take action, not sit around getting pitying looks. But most of all, she wanted to stop fucking crying. She’d cried enough already to fill several barrels. She was done with it.
Elian got up from beside her as the other two walked in, reclaiming his seat on the other side of the room. Aeryn promptly sat where he had been, turning towards her and wrapping her up in a short hug. Ryn leaned her head down, whispering in Ami’s ear, “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
Amiera pulled away from their hug, nodding her head at Ryn’s words. She knew Ryn was just trying to be comforting, but that didn’t stop the feeling that the words were empty, only said to lift Ami’s spirts.
Ryn pulled away too, but stayed in the seat next to Ami, and turned towards the other two people in the room. “We talked to our mother while you two were—”
“Sobbing? Mourning? Ruining our clothes with our tears?”
“All of the above, My Prince.” Ryn took the time to actually look over the two of them, and presumably, saw the tear spots on Ami’s dress and the makeup stains on Elian’s suit. She made no comment about either.
“How did you even get in contact with her?” Amiera questioned. She knew of no means of communication that would allow them to reach the palace, that was well over several hours away, in such short time. She should have expected it when both Whitlock siblings turned to her, looking at her like she had grown a second and third head.
“Magic.”
Of course.
Ami could do nothing but roll her eyes at that, continuing to listen to their recap of events.
“We asked her about last night, everything that happened after we left.” Ryn started, “She told us that the whole palace went on lock down. Very few people were able to escape.”
“Yet somehow, this person did,” Jamys continued. “Queen Izella Norac.”
“Izella escaped?” Amiera asked, “How?” She would never admit it to anyone, but she was curious if her mother was alive. Hearing that she was left her wondering whether to be relieved she was alive or upset she wasn’t dead.
“Mother said that she went through a secret passage behind King Mael’s throne. Apparently, it’s been there since the reign of King Leon IV. She says hello by the way.” Ryn explained, “But that’s not all. Prince Henrik has seized control over the palace and everyone inside of it. He’s taken half the kingdom as his prisoners.”
Ami looked around the room, locking eyes with everyone individually, knowing that they were all likely thinking the same thought as her. Henrik needed to be stopped.
“So what’s the plan?” Elian spoke up from his seat. He had said nothing thus far, choosing to absorb the information rather than spew his thoughts. Ami had always thought that was one of his best qualities.
The others looked between themselves but it was obvious that no one had a plan. Upon realizing this, they all turned to look at Ami, their gazes expectant. Ami actually did have a plan. It was wild, risky, and a little foolish, but it was a plan. The only plan they had.
With that thought and all the confidence she could muster up, she asked the three a simple question.
“Who wants to stage a revolution?”