The Runaway Queen

The Sasahara Knights chattered amongst themselves, voices rising impatiently to be heard over one another. None of them seemed particularly surprised by the sudden announcement, but as they gossiped, their voices were gradually rising with growing excitement.

Their words swiftly filling the room with inane noise, Matt made no effort to translate the many conversations as he watched them talking. Many of them were still glancing over at the newly born Ophiella; even now, she was the centre of their many conversations.

The girl herself was too short to be seen clearly above the crowd of taller Knights that were forcing their questions on her. The only sign of her still standing next to Myra was the set of tall horns waving back and forth at the centre of their small mob.

Many other Knights were already distracted by the new development that had charged into the room, intentionally avoiding Ophiella as they left. Their voices fading as they were blocked by the sheet of cloth that served for a door. Even though they ignored Ophiella, it didn’t seem to be out of spite; rather their spritely steps and stolen glances revealed the same fear he’d seen in many, the last few days.

It’d been the same fearful eyes that had looked upon himself and his fellow soldiers when they’d entered the city with such complete invulnerability. It was the same fear in the people’s eyes as they watched invincible drones flittering around the sky, reaping human lives faster than they could scream.

The woman who’d brought news of the King to them was still standing stock-still, frozen in shock; her eyes locked staring the direction of Ophiella. Distant eyes stealing what glances she could from through the shifting walls of flesh surrounding the girl.

“What… the hell?” The words falling from her lips, “When did the world turn on its head?”

Lilith whispered words to herself in reply, loud enough only for him to hear, “It was always like this. It’s just taken us too long to realize it.”

One of the many voices rose to the fore, “The King is finally addressing the people that hate him the most? This should be interesting.” Not a single desire hidden in her voice to hide her disgust as she spoke.

“I wonder whether they’ll riot?” Another joined the conversation, her voice mildly amused.

“Perhaps the mages will slip up. We all know that they serve the King after all.” The first voice replied speaking with some growing excitement to her voice. “Now I’d like to see that.”

“He should’ve stayed holed up in his castle, the fool.” The words slipped from an overly liberal tongue.

The King would be a poor King if he didn’t address his people in a time like this; in Matt’s opinion, it was bad enough for it to have been left for this long. Though he couldn’t understand how this world was supposed to work.

What was the most disconcerting was the amusement in their voices as they spoke of the possible collapse of this nation. Were they truly so indifferent to this city and its people? Who were these Knights really if they weren’t here to serve the population of this place? What were they after?

Within the tent people quickly gathered together into small groups, without any particular order to their forces. Their voices completely chaotic, finally Matt was beginning to realize what it meant to be without a leader. This chaos, it seemed almost self-destructive to him as he stood and watched them behave so irrationally. For not the first time he wondered how they’d survived as long as they had, behaving like this.

Those that surrounded Ophiella, seeking answers to her current form and strength, to how she was handling the demon in her mind, and the nature of her accursed arm. There was a sense of desperation flowing off them as they sought to learn whether or not she could stand against the tide of war about to flow over the land.

There were also those who sought to hear what the king had to declare, hoping to see something spark from the coming announcement. From these women, he could sense a slight bloodlust rising into the air, their voices rising with excitement as they spoke of the coming days.

The difference between the groups was quickly resolved when Myra’s voice rose above the others, “If the mages might show themselves, then I’m going to be there to cut them down the moment they do.” She ran outside with Ophiella dragged along behind her, the many questioning the girl, following behind.

Apparently, she was so enticed by the king’s coming declaration, and her desire to meet with the mysterious mages, that she completely ignored the women chasing after them. Questions flowed after Ophiella from excited young woman seeking to learn her strengths and abilities, hoping to find some hope in their new ally.

Myra had a fevered look in her eyes as she ran, her pace unchallenged by the many Knights chasing them. Her ears deaf to their calls as they tried to ask her questions. Ophiella, far too distracted to be able to reply as she was raced from the tent.

The first to tail after them was Lilith, positioning herself close behind Ophiella, who she still held at great suspicion. Her hand was still gripping the gun held close to her body so that the other women couldn’t knock it aside as they gave chase. Her eyes, focused on nothing in this world, were almost as feverish as Myra’s as she ran.

As soon as the word, King, had been spoken aloud she’d been emotionally startled, her thoughts washing up against him chaotically. They were so scattered that he could make no sense of them, yet so numerous that he could not keep track. If he tried to follow along, he’d lose his own mind in that chaotic ocean of her soul.

“Matt, she isn’t of sane mind when the royalty is in her thoughts. Step carefully around her.” The voice of Grikith spoke to him, far more blatantly than it had previously, yet Lilith seemed to take no notice.

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked the demon that lived in her mind, cautious at its sudden advice.

“It would serve me no good for her to kill you. The coming tempest will affect us all, even demons and angels must make friendly if we wish to survive.” The voice spoke to him with an earnestness that was unfamiliar to the alien thoughts flowing into his mind. It didn’t take much creative thinking to realize the meaning; the gun in his hand, a weapon that frightened even the strongest beings of this world.

“Do you really think that that girl could stand against a demon of such strength? Without such compromise, we cannot face the wars to come.” Matt was shocked at the earnestness in the demon’s voice, a hint of fear seemed to emanate from it. A strange emotion to feel from a creature who had been so full of confidence.

“Why do you think that? You’ve barely even seen what my world is capable of.” He asked, frightened of the answer that just might come.

“I exist in Lilith’s mind; do you really think that I cannot see the memories that she has stolen from you? I’ve seen what your people have done to your world. It cannot be allowed to happen here.” The voice spoke so honestly that he paused in response, unsure of what to ask it, unsure of whether to be grateful or fearful of this creature’s assistance.

“So, Ophiella, she’s not…” The shape of her arm flowed into his mind, a fraction of the absolute power that she wielded over them.

“She’s in control because the demon has offered her that control. Perhaps with time they will find greater strength, because even as she is, she will die if she faces your weapons.” He could understand the reasoning in the demon’s words, the intention to survive at all costs, even at subjecting themselves willingly to slavery under the hands of these women.

He couldn’t help but admire that determination, that sacrifice.

At first Matt was too distracted by Grikith’s words to follow directly after Lilith, who’d already long left his sight. In only a short while all his acquaintances were gone and he was surrounded by only strangers, who were crowding the exit. Even Grikith’s voice left his mind as the distance between him and Lilith greatened.

“Hurry up!” Lilith’s words reached him, forcing a soft ache to his head as the thoughts crossed the distance. “You’re still my responsibility, so keep up with me. Otherwise I’ll kill you so that I finally have an excuse to cease with this babysitting.” Matt could feel a tenseness to her words, enough to know that she wasn’t entirely joking.

He raced forwards, through the doors which were no longer crowded, the Knights that had been crowding the doors now far ahead of him. The only woman left in the tent was the woman who’d just lost her friend, a few tears staining her cheeks, reflecting the low light inside the tent.

Outside he could still see the many Knights racing along, some forming small groups and walking ahead together, others racing forwards alone. Matt felt a sense of separation from them, seeing so many people in uniform acting so childish and disorderly. As abstract as the sight was to him, it was not entirely uncomfortable to embrace. It wasn’t as cold as his own military had been.

That was highlighted by the sadness that many of them felt over the deaths of their allies. Although they persisted in speaking as if it made no difference to them, he could finally notice the sorrow filling the atmosphere in the breaks between words. They kept speaking so that they could fight back against that air of sorrow.

He’d already long lost Lilith, who’d moved with such pace that she was likely within the city walls already. Not wishing to die an early death by her hand, he followed his best instincts and gave chase, her threats still fresh in his mind.

A tightness had formed in his chest as he lagged further and further behind, not like anything he’d ever felt before. His legs moved forwards almost of their own will as he found himself drawn towards where Myra, Ophiella, and Lilith were themselves moving. The sensation bringing a sharp anxiety into his heart as he recalled the term translated to him through a demon in the mind of a Knight.

Mind slave.

He brushed off the thought, even if it were true, for now there was precious little he could do about it. Right now, all that he could do was run.

He was offered only brief glances by the many Knights that he raced past, recent events having again lowered the value of his intrigue to these young women. In fact, the appearance of Ophiella and the sudden declaration of the King were all that he could hear from their passing conversations. For some reason, he felt a momentary warmth in his chest at no longer being the focus of their attentions.

It was not as if he’d been accepted by them, but it was as if his fate was no longer in question. Like he’d found some precarious place amongst them, even if just for now.

His lightly shod shoes slipped time and again in the mud as he ran, but he managed to keep on his feet all the same. While still catching up to the long distant woman that was meant to be his guard, he tried to listen to the conversations going on around him. Strangely their words no longer flowed through his mind as they had before, they streamed through his consciousness with the pace of a thick liquid. Their meanings taking a few moments to dawn on him as his heart grew tense.

It felt almost as if he were listening to a language he hadn’t spoken in years, or trying to recall the details of a distant memory. He struggled to find the meanings rather than having them simply offered to him as they had been.

“What do you think this is going to be about?” One of the Knights asked another as they walked side by side.

“Another attempt to save these stupid people, perhaps?” The Knight looked over the area with spite. Where they were walking, they could see a great many lost people wandering the flat plains out the front of the city walls.

“An evil king attempting to save his idiot people. Sounds like a fairy tale turned upside down.” The first Knight responded, laughing at the situation as it unfolded.

Soon enough their words faded behind him, others taking their place as he progressed towards the city gates. He could hear many other conversations with the same intent, most of the Knights speaking with disgust, not only at the King but at the many people of this city.

Even as they walked past a small graveyard that had formed over the last day, they showed no sympathy to their dead. Some of the Knights even spat in the direction of the people that they came across, those same people lowering their heads as if they were being blessed by something holy.

Matt passed by several people dressed in worn and wet clothes, their words just as harsh as those of the Knights. “Is he finally going to fight this war seriously?” A young woman asked turning to a man that looked like her father.

“Perhaps,” He muttered under his breathe, “I wish the queen was still alive. She’d have already won this war, and without touching magic.” The man spat at the ground.

“What happened to princess Theresa?” the girl asked her father as Matt left earshot. The name of their princess seemed to be living still in the hearts of the people, who idealised her far more than they did the King that was currently serving them.

Passing the few people remaining, Matt ran through the city gates which had been left wide open. Their enemy so powerful that it seemed entirely worthless to even try to block their passage. It seemed that even the guards had left their posts to listen to the Kings announcement, giving up on their duty.

All around him was the same scene that had been the new image of the city since the attack. Rubble and scattered belongings blocked up most roads, and hopeless faces stared out into ruins of the city that they called home. It seemed their spirits had been broken worse than the architecture of the city had been.

If anything, the king’s demands had made their expressions that much more dark. The people who had been filled with nothing but hopelessness now revealed signs of hate, as they spoke of their King. No longer could he see the people turning against one another, or taking things from one another. Strangely they had formed a sense of comradery, as if unified by an enemy.

That enemy wasn’t the untouchable drones or the invincible soldiers, rather the King too weak to fight them.

Matt’s foot was caught by a piece of debris in the street, his shoe coming loose as he fell into the wet mud. With a quick reaction, he’d managed to keep himself from landing on a few scattered pieces of metal that were sharp enough to part flesh.

With the foot that had slipped loose from its shoe, he pushed up off the muddy ground, a sigh escaping his lips as he stressed his body. The tenseness in his heart pressuring him to keep moving.

“You okay?” A familiar voice called out to him, “No need to rush, we should be able to make it in time just fine.” Rloki offered her hand to him as he lay on the ground. Not bothered by the mud covering Matt’s hand she forcefully took hold and dragged him up with more strength than he had expected from her small frame.

“Thanks,” he said feeling the pressure in his chest slightly relieve, Lilith and the others seemingly having stopped running ahead.

“Perhaps you should learn how to speak properly.” She replied to his thanks, “You could at least learn a few manners. See here, when someone does something for you, say, yuva” He focused on the words pronunciation so that he could learn it properly.

“Yuva.” He tested the new word, this time without pulling it out of the depths of his mind. It didn’t spark the same headache that was usually inspired by their language.

“Very good, you do seem to have some potential. Now, time to clean you up a little,” She muttered pulling a cloth from her jacket, it was a clean white colour and softly scented with some kind of citrus.

She inspected his face, while wiping his skin clean of the mud staining his face and neck. The cloth now completely coated in the colour of mud after having wiped his face clean. Rloki, seemingly unconcerned with the filth, folded up the cloth and replaced it in her inner pocket.

“Yuva,” He thanked her, the word still strange on his lips. It felt completely different to when he was forcing himself to speak their language.

“Konda,” She replied, the meaning he understood as a casual response to thanks, she leaned in close to him while she spoke. Before he knew what was happening she’d pressed her lips against his cheek.

He didn’t understand what the action was supposed to mean, but he felt a little flustered as a warmth ignited in his cheeks. She quickly latched herself onto his arm and started to walk forwards with her elbow hooked through his own. The rifle slung around his front occasionally bumping against where their arms were linked.

“What is with you anyway?” She spoke at him while walking along with him. “You don’t seem to know much about how to speak but sometimes I swear that you know what people are telling you a little too well.”

Matt didn’t bother replying, it was worthless to try and speak to her in his tongue, and he wasn’t feeling up to upsetting Lilith any further today by giving her a headache.

“And for some reason you’re bothering to listen to the King’s announcement? Do you even know how messy things might get today?” She told him, the words seemingly spoken to herself.

He looked at her curiously, suddenly concerned. Things might be getting messy today? The thought that today might lead to more violence sent a few shivers down his spine. The words spoken previously hadn’t struck him so clearly, but now their words seemed that much more than simple upset.

Rloki led him through the ruins of the town occasionally talking to the strangers as they passed by. Unlike the many others when she spoke she was trying to avoid using harsh words or even speaking about topics such as the announcement that they were now heading to.

Still linked with Matt, she approached a nearby child who’d been walking with the rest of the crowd, their eyes filled with a rage unfamiliar to Matt. “A young man like yourself shouldn’t be wearing such a grim face.” She spoke to him with quiet words.

The boy, as if stunned at suddenly having Rloki approach him, shed that look of animosity in his eyes for the briefest of moments, before hiding behind that emotion once more, “What’s it to you old lady?” the boy asked clutching a small knife in his pants. From the look of it the knife was more used to cutting fruit than flesh.

“Catch” she called out ignoring the boy’s apparent disapproval of her words. What she threw to the boy looked like a small box made from bone or shell.

Again, she threw the child off his guard, “What is it?” he asked, shaking the box around to see if it made a sound. His hand had fallen free of his knife and his eyes lost a little of their sharp gaze.

“I was told that the secret to life is inside.” She said carefully, “but only a select few can open it.” She waved her hands around a little to exaggerate as she spoke, “The man who gave it to me said exactly what I’m saying to you know. I was never able to open the blasted thing, maybe I was only meant to bring it to your hands.”

The boy grunted before moving on, the box finding its way into a pocket as he walked. His stride less forced than it had been before she’d spoken to him.

As little as she was able to do. As little as she was able to change. She seemed to be trying hard to get even a small smile out of anyone, or just to weaken the strength of the anger and rage that was flowing through them. The longer he spent time with this strange person the more he realized that he didn’t know a single thing, about her, or about this world.

They intentionally made a detour around the place which was still soaked in the stench of death and demons, a tall tower of smoke rising into the sky; hinting at the dead still being burned away. Beneath the smell of drizzling rain, was that clear and distasteful smell of ash falling on earth.

Matt avoided looking the direction of that smoke, not wishing to recall memories from the past few days that were better left buried until he was ready to deal with them.

Ahead a large crowd gathered, stealing away Matts attention. People of all ages and sizes filled the space more tightly than Matt had ever seen in his life. They were packed together so tightly that it was impossible to squeeze his way through on his own without using his rifle to clear a path.

The sight both beautiful and frightening, he watched the people behave in a way that was completely alien to him. It was pleasant for such life to fill their eyes, but the anger that they voiced brought a spark of terror rising in his heart.

For the first time in his life he could see the terrifying power of a group of people, even if it couldn’t compare to the power of military technology it was more than enough to bat down a few swords or bows.

Rloki took the lead dragging him into the fray that was the audience, somehow forcing an opening through the many people gathered without managing to upset anyone. They all seemed that they were upset with something distant to the front of the crowd, the expressions only growing worse the deeper into the mob that they were able to cut.

A few children slipped through the legs of the gathered people but for the most part, Matt and Rloki were the only ones making forwards progress. Matt moving only because he was caught in the wake formed by Rloki as she decisively forced her way through the people.

Soon, above the heads of the gathered public, he could see a familiar stage set up before the massive castle where the king was housed. The King himself was yet to appear, with only a few people wearing royal garments holding themselves on stage. A pair of, what seemed to be soldiers, held flags firmly in the sky, attached to long spears.

Another man stood between the two, dressed in colourful clothes while looking out over the people before him with distain clear in his eyes. It seemed as though he was the man that the crowd’s anger was now centred on, while they spat angry words aloud.

The man didn’t react to their hostilities, it seemed as though he thought himself above them. As if he were looking down upon mere animals or children.

After a moment, Matt was finally able to realize from where this stage was so familiar. Since he’d entered from a different side when he was still a soldier he knew for sure that that wasn’t how he’d recognised this place.

This place he’d seen from his dream with Theresa, as she stood over the executions, heart pounding with passion as she had forced a cold expression on her face. Neither her or the queen currently stood atop that stage where blood stained the ground. The chopping block wasn’t in position today, which came to slight relief, as Matt remembered the contents of that dream.

This scene was frightfully like that vision, only he was now standing amidst the adoring crowd that thirsted for blood, rather standing on the stage striking the heads off with his hand.

Rloki, un-noticing of his discomfort, was jumping up and down madly, while spinning her head from left to right and back again. She looked as if she’d lost her mind as she pressed against the crowd, trying as she might to see over their heads. Finally, she glanced his direction, with the spark of an idea in her eyes.

As she pushed him ahead of her, he felt a sudden weight drop down on his shoulders as her arms wrapped around his neck. In a few short moments, she’d scaled him as she would climb a tree with no concern for the dirt and mud she painted across his already filthy back.

As soon as she was tall enough to peak over the heads of the people around them, her head flicking left and right scanning the horizon. In only a few moments her eyes locked onto something.

Hurriedly her finger was thrust out towards his left, her other hand slapping his shoulder, “Onwards!” She yelled, the crowd parting ways for her absurd steed as she led them through the mass of flesh.

Ahead Matt could see a few tall heads coated in silver hair, pale horns peeking upwards towards the sky. Within the field of silver hair, he could see a tall set of horns peeking out above the crowd, the girl herself far too short for anything else to be seen of her. He was also able to see a head of silver hair, shades darker than the others standing in that field, warning him of Lilith’s presence.

They quickly pushed through the last line of people standing between himself and the Sasahara Knights, who were watching the stage carefully. The many people giving the Knights some distance, forming a strange circle around them out of respect.

The Knights quickly turned to him and Rloki as he pushed through the bubble that had surrounded them, their eyes filled with a sense of curiosity at the strange sight that befell them.

Rloki leapt on top of Myra and Ophiella, straight from Matt’s shoulders, the moment they were within reach. “It’s been soo~ long!” She turned to Ophiella without a hint of hesitation or confusion, “Opi, you’ve grown… and your hair is so pretty now!”

Out of all the gathered Knights only Lilith could react, gently letting out a breath and sighing derisively. The others were too shocked to even move, looking to the strange woman that had managed to leap into their numbers without hint of hesitation. The woman who was currently hugging the most powerful being that many of them had ever met, acting somewhere between a close friend and a familiar elder that hadn’t seen her in years.

Ophiella, slowly let go of her shock as she looked up at Rloki recognising the woman who’d managed to surprise her. “It… I’m… My name is Ophiella now.” For a moment, she seemed to be back to her previous self, before she’d become a Knight of Sasahara, the sight of the girl reminding Matt of the words spoken to him by Grikith.

She’s in control because the demon has offered her that control.

His heart twisted as he looked at the girl who was at the mercy of a demon that was allowing itself to be enslaved. It seemed so very unfair to him, for the both of them. The girl with a demon holding a blade to her throat, and the demon who is forced to be enslaved, else lose the entire world to a greater evil.

Everyone seemed to be frozen at the scene until Rloki finally let go of the girl and turned to Lilith instead. “I brought your enamoured prince!” The words bringing Matt out of his reverie.

Lilith groaned especially loudly as the other Knights turned to her direction questioningly.

“Foreign prince?” Myra asked her directly, not bothering with tact.

“Not as far as I know.” She replied, “This creature is simply saying the first thing on its mind again.” Lilith gestured back towards Rloki.

Myra faced the ‘creature’ Lilith spoke of, trying to keep pace with the woman before she leapt off on her next direction. “How do you know Matt?” She asked.

“We talked a few times in the bath.” She replied mindlessly, holding back onto Matt’s hand tightly, and standing strangely close

“Well ah… that’s… Isn’t he too…” Myra was caught by surprise unable to string together a proper sentence, “So you two…” She cleared her throat, her face growing red as she attempted to speak.

Lilith began laughing at her quietly, “With a mind like that, maybe you made the wrong choice joining the Knights.” At her words, all of the nearby faces framed with stama glared at her, her words apparently causing them some discomfort. Lilith didn’t seem bothered by their sudden animosity, if anything it seemed familiar to her.

Before any more words could be exchanged they were silenced by the man standing at the podium that stood before the elegant castle gates. The man who still stared out at the crowd with distain, “The 42nd ruler of our realm, our great King Aruldus will now address his people.”

The crowd silenced, except for a few dissatisfied grumbles spreading out amongst the people gathered. The massive doors to the castle slowly creaked open by the hands of a pair of the King’s guard, their armour noticeably different from that of the ordinary guard. Their postures held together with far more confidence as they scanned the crowd, eyes sticking to the Knights for a moment too long.

Eventually an opulently dressed king revealed himself from behind those doors, head shining with a brilliant crown. His face was filled with less confidence than the men who guarded him.

The first thing Matt thought when looking at him, was that his clothes were far less opulent than the queen from Theresa’s dream. The man called a King, walked with some hesitation to his step, and sweat dripping on his brow, even though it was a cool afternoon.

Standing under a tall parasol to protect him from the light rain, he carefully stepped up to the crowd, clearing his voice, “People of Valkel, I stand before you on this day of great tragedy to offer my strength and the strength of this nation.” Silence overwhelmed the people as they formed up to listen, their faces filled with anger as they watched their king standing above them.

“I know that many of you have lost family in the last few days, in the recent attacks on this city; for that you have my sympathies. All burials will be funded by the royal coffers, and I will personally make sure that their deaths were not in vain.” He paused after that line, waiting for the words to sink in.

“I also know that many entire families have died leaving behind no relatives to inherit their belongings. To make the best use of these losses in these hard times, all belongings without inheritance will be taken possession of and added to the royal coffers to fund the reconstruction of this city.” His words sent shock waves through the crowd as they all started whispering again.

A man standing not far away muttered in a voice barely considered a whisper, “First he kills them, then he demands all that they had in payment.” He spat to the ground in dissatisfaction before pushing his way through the crowd, away from the stage where the king was standing.

“Much of this city has been destroyed, the lack of homes forcing many to die from the cold of the streets at night. I want to see an end to these horrific days so that we can move forwards into a better future.” He coughed again, his voice losing confidence as people started to leave, and others began to chant against him.

The words queen, coward, and traitor loudest among them.

“To that ends, quarters within the castle have been cleared for the children and elderly among you that need housing, but this is just the beginning. Tomorrow will be the beginning of a new era for Valkel.”

“Tomorrow, work will begin on clearing and reconstructing this city so that none will go unhoused. So, that these walls may never fall again, and none may starve in the streets.” Most people had already given up listening to him, muttering amongst themselves in anger.

“These walls were strong until he became King.” One woman called out loudly to the crowd. The chant growing amongst the citizens of the city.

“I will ensure that this city will find peace so that such a tragedy will never occur again.” The moment the word peace entered the ears of the crowd they finally erupted at full force, their voices drowning out the King’s.

“Peace? We will destroy them!!” A rough man called out holding aloft a well dented sword.

“The only peace to be found is over their corpses!” This from a woman barely old enough to be considered an adult.

Soon even the children joined in the chanting, screaming loudly enough to be heard among the voices of the adults. “For Papa! Kill them all!”

Matt felt the wave of anger and disgust washing over the crowd. Never before had he felt such strong reactions. Never before had he been so thoroughly drowned by the emotions surrounding him. The chanting was already silencing the King’s words but the guards and attendants made no attempt to quell the violent crowds.

King Aruldus was swiftly guided back into the castle, as the mob began to push past the guards that were meant to hold them back. Many of the guards themselves turning about face, against the King, joining with the mobs chanting.

The Sasahara Knights watched closely, all of them glowing with strong emotions of their own, but not the same as the crowd that was gathered around them. None of the Knights yelled or screamed as the crowd around them erupted into chaos, instead their sharp eyes were focused forwards towards the King’s last loyal retainers.

Even now, with emotions were so peaked the violent mob made space for the Knights, giving them far more respect than they had the King himself.

Around him screams rose into the thick warm air, “Queen Theresa!” they chanted, reaching out to a princess that would not listen to their demands.

Inside the raging storm that was forming within Lilith’s soul, Matt could feel sadness, twisted and confused by guilt. By now he had little doubt that Lilith was once the princess Theresa, but he’d never heard of her being queened.

The title seemed to bring the worst of emotions out of the woman as she turned away from the crowd fighting against the raging storm within that threatened to overflow her heart, while the raging mob split to make way for her.

Myra and Ophiella stayed behind, watching the scene with discriminating eyes. Their presence watched closely by the King’s personal guard, who were struggling to keep the riot from overflowing into the castle itself.

Matt left the scene behind, following Lilith’s footsteps with great trouble. Unlike her, he didn’t earn the same respect from the gathered people, some of whom were looking to him with intents of violence in their eyes.

To them, if he wasn’t at the side of a Knight, he was a foreigner. Some might even suspect his true origins, the thought of which sending some shivers down his spine, pushing his feet into a faster flight.

Fortunately, before he lost Lilith, he was able to get caught inside the bubble of space that the crowd offered her. The mob surrounding him, filled with hate sent painful shocks to his heart, different than he’d felt at the emptiness in their eyes over the past few days, this elicited terror from his weary heart.

“Lilith,” He called out weakly his voice drowned out by the angry cries. He reached out for her hand, like Rloki had done to him, like Ren had done so many times in his childhood. He was afraid of being left alone in this raging sea of emotion.

Lilith spun to him as soon as his hand grabbed onto hers, her eyes filled with twisted emotions, her opposite hand raised to hit him. He flinched in response but didn’t let go, fear too strong in his heart as he was surrounded by so many hate filled strangers.

Her hand didn’t strike, instead, he felt for a moment the storm in her heart pause. An image carrying through that ocean that washed at the shores of his mind.

He saw in her mind’s eye, the image of a golden queen striking a young boy while she watched on. The boy quivering as he tried to hold back the tears, his face already bloody from the bejewelled hand that had struck him repeatedly. Emeralds and sapphires now coloured like rubies, painted by the young boy’s blood.

“Theresa, see here, a queen is never afraid to dirty her hands with the blood of the weak.” The words echoing in his head over and over.

Slowly he opened his eyes, able to watch her gradually lowering her hand. A slight quiver running across her face as if she were about to cry.

“Y-Yuva.” He murmured while forcing himself to let go of her hand. The stress was nearly enough to evoke tears but he was just barely able to restrain them.

The people around them barely gave them a second glance, but that avoidance seemed intentional. Without saying a word, Lilith snatched his hand in her own, dragging him through the city, away from the crowd which was still gathering at the castle gates. Behind them he could hear the distant screams growing louder, as he tried to silence them through distance.

Before long they were free from the emotions filling the castle courtyard, heading instead into the emptiness of the dead city.