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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Sept 15, 2019 10:37:26 GMT -5
Sergio Pascal Ayrauta
》castle grounds of alay. well enough; alive.
His reflection in the pond stared at him, as if from a window in the stars above. The water seemed to stretch down, as endless as the sky stretching outward above him, a well of constellations containing more stars than he could see at once. The towers of the castle poked through the mirror behind his reflection, reminding him where he was. Not drifting through the cosmos, but standing on a path in the castle gardens. He was almost disappointed when he straightened and remembered how numb his feet were. He couldn’t see the moon, hidden somewhere among the trees that lined the path, but based on the shadows they cast and the exhaustion deep in his muscles, he guessed it was about four in the morning. Sunrise isn’t too far away now, he speculated as he resumed his walk.
The guard was still making his rounds a while later, finding himself patrolling along the back wall. To the left of the wall, far below, he scanned the gardens and the river that ran through the middle of them, the one that diverted into the ponds. Beneath him, he could hear the river passing through a gate in the wall. Glancing to the right, he could see the river dropping off the edge of the cliff that the castle sat upon. The waterfall created a spray of moisture that seemed to fill the lake below with fog. He couldn’t see the shores, let alone the surface of the water or the caves hiding underneath. He didn’t care to see any deeper into that particular body of water, afraid that one day there would be a pair of huge yellow eyes staring back at him. Blinking, he focused to make sure there wasn’t, but all he could see was the fog. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sergio continued pacing along the wall.
Like everyone else in the castle, he’d been taught to navigate the maze-like caverns in that lake. He knew the way to the flowers that helped Alay prosper so, and he knew every other insignificant tunnel as well. But much the same as any regular citizen, he lived in wonder and fear of the monster that watched the coming and going of the flowers from its home. He had never actually seen it; it was elusive, though its skin was rumoured to be dark, ugly, slimy. Somehow it remained well-hidden among the bright foliage, probably lurking along the walls of the cave, which were a whitish-grey. Much like a beaver dam, the only way to the flowers was through the lake’s tunnels. Not much else lived there but fish, yet Sergio never looked forward to when it was his turn to escort the Collectors to retrieve the flowers. Water alone didn’t worry him: it was the weight of the rock above his head as they swam through that was worrisome. But, he reminded himself, they had never collapsed in the hundreds of years Alay had been here and harvesting the flowers, which had magical properties he couldn’t begin to understand. The alchemists in the castle knew how to harness those properties and benefitted every citizen in Alay, probably without some of them even realizing it. No, that’s a lie. Everyone knew exactly why there was so little sickness and injury, why everything felt perfect on the surface.
The horizon was almost yellowing with the sunrise by the time Sergio was on the steps, coming down from the back wall. His heart skipped a beat when he heard a crash, startling him enough to make him slip down a step. Pausing, he listened, adrenaline flooding his heart as the commotion continued. It was coming from the main gate on the other side of the castle facing the city. From where he stood, it was faint, but the noise was almost rhythmic, a pounding that reverberated deep in the cliff rock, occasionally followed by the sound of breaking china. Shadows moved in the garden which he identified as other guards, walking briskly at first toward the castle, but by the time he had come down from the wall to follow, they were running. Something was amiss, and Sergio’s knees felt weak as he ran, panic building.
Sprinting, he managed to catch up to another man in the gardens. “What’s going on?” He asked, matching the guard’s pace.
“I don’t think anyone knows for sure, but it sounds like-”
“-An attack,” Sergio finished his sentence, eyes dark and steely as he focused on the palace ahead of them. The other guard nodded, falling quiet except for their fast breathing and the crunch of gravel under their shoes as they ran. And then there was the pounding, louder now.
“Sounds like they’re trying to get in the front doors,” he said as they reached the castle, astonished. Whoever it was out there, he almost admired their audacity. He and the other guard burst through one of the smaller back doors, and it was there they split up. The man ran to the right down the corridor, so Sergio turned left, following the marble halls that would take him to the main hall of the castle. Opening a door to the entrance hall, he was nearly suffocated by the wave of smoke that greeted him. Coughing and wheezing, he held a hand up to his face, trying to survey the large room, but his vision blurred with tears that stung from the smoke.
“Sergio!” He heard his name and walked forward, trying to reach the voice without bumping into anything. The only source of light came from the crack between the two main doors, seemingly from the outside. It was a strange orange light that looked like it was shooting sparks at any figure that came close, and the more he watched, the more he could see. There was a group of people, lumped together in front of the doors and the light, holding them shut. There was a resounding bang and the doors shuddered, pushing back against the strange people trying to block the light, it seemed. As he made his way to where he’d heard the voice, he realized the light was a fire. The doors shuddered from the force of another jab at them as Sergio stumbled into a person, apparently the one he’d been looking for.
“Sergio! There you are, I’ve been looking for you!” The voice belonged to another guard, an older man by the name of Schon, mentor to all the soldiers in the palace. His face was badly burned, but he didn’t seem to notice. The man’s eyes burned as he met his gaze and continued, speaking hurriedly.
“They’ve got a battering ram somehow, they’re trying to break the doors and get inside.”
“Who, what, why?” Sergio sputtered trying to get his words out without choking on the smoke. Schon put his hands on the boy’s shoulders to steady him.
“The people, Sergio! It’s some of the citizens! You’ll recognize them-”
“Wait, why? What do they want? Where is this coming from?”
Schon shook his head, and Sergio saw a chink in his armour in the form of despair, in the man’s eyes, such as he’d never seen before. The floor shuddered with the next attack, the walls quaked. Looking over at the doors, they were crumpling in the middle despite the guards’ efforts. Debris flew threw the expanded hole between the doors, stone and wooden stakes that clattered on the floor, tripping the guards as they ran to help.
“Listen, Sergio, we won’t know anything just standing here. Go find the royal family, get them to the island, they’ll be safe there. I’m going to try and find our spies, see if they can help. Go now!”
Despite the chaos, Sergio’s world seemed to slow as it dawned on him what his job was. Schon meant the island of the flowers, the cave where the creature resided. He thought they would be safe there? Of course. His every instinct wanted to argue with the man, but he knew he was right. The monster would protect its domain, and if they were in it, they would be safe for the time being, until the people could be calmed and they could get to the bottom of this.
A voice from outside interrupted his thoughts. “No one has to get hurt, we just want answers! They let us live this way, like mice! No more!”
His hesitation was not appreciated by the older man, who gave him a little shove back toward the door he’d come from.
“Get!” Sergio obeyed, one hand on the hilt of his sword. He wanted nothing more than to stay and fight, but how could he, when it was with his own people? He didn’t want to hurt them, but this is what he’d been prepared for. A riot was always a possibility, less than an attack from outside the kingdom, so it was one that they did not take seriously. Not until now.
He didn’t make it to the corridor before the doors split open like a melon. Bodies fell and were trampled by the invaders, and he didn’t even have time to draw his weapon before he was overcome. Someone reached for him and he felt hands on his arms and legs, a painful blow to the back of his head, and then darkness.
When he came to soon after, he was disappointed to find that not much had changed. The smoke had dissipated slightly, sleeking along the ceiling into other halls and rooms. The world swam in his vision and he shook his head, trying to see straight. An ache laced down his spine and he rolled over, getting to his hands and knees. Looking around, he saw blurry, unmoving figures on the ground were his only company. The rest of the mob had gone, likely deeper into the palace.
Damn. His head was throbbing, but his vision was clearing enough that the edges of the world were a bit sharper already. He had one goal: get to the Barnes family before the zealots did. He staggered back into the corridors, which swayed with each step, but he managed to not fall over. The tapestries and vases in each hall had been damaged and strewn on the floor, the tables pillaged and tipped over, making his journey more hazardous.
He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious for, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, judging by the shouts he heard occasionally around corners, boots on the marble floors, running, or metal clashing against itself. He avoided any conflict, thankfully, and for a few minutes, it was just him walking through the halls, walking as fast as he could, though it was some time before he started to notice that he was limping. Nothing on his body hurt, so he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t get his left leg to cooperate, and he didn’t have time to stop and check. He knew where he had to go. The royal family had their own tunnels in the castle, secret tunnels behind the walls that all led to the lake, behind the waterfall.
It would be foolish of him to think no one had found them yet. He could only hope that it was someone friendly to the king and queen and their children. Sergio reached a cross on the wall, glancing around. There was a door around here somewhere, he thought, a door to the tunnels. Why couldn’t he remember where it was? He had to get in those tunnels in order to get to the Barnes’ family. They’d likely be in their emergency quarters, and hopefully all of them were all there together so he wouldn’t have to hunt one of them down separately. A pair of cold hands grabbed him suddenly, pulling him into the wall.
When he dared to open his eyes, he found he was in the tunnels, a dim light further down barely illuminating the person in front of him.
“Septimus,” Sergio breathed a sigh of relief upon realizing it was just the palace Seer, who also acted as an advisor to the younger members of the royal family, though what that meant, Sergio couldn’t say. It was a running joke among the guards that Septimus was nothing more than a babysitter, and that in itself was hilarious to them, because the young man looked like he was no older than sixteen. Sergio guessed he was only a little younger than himself, however, he’d never ask. The Seer kept to himself much of the time when he wasn’t walking around with a child on his hip, which unfortunately made it easier to make fun of him.
“God, you scared me.”
“Sorry, Gio, but you looked like you were trying to get in here.”
“I was, I just- I couldn’t remember exactly-”
“Did you hit your head?” Septimus asked, shifting to get a better look at what Sergio guessed was a bloody bump on his head. He nodded, touching the spot tenderly.
“There’s been an attack, or an uprising, I don’t know. Where are the Barnes…?”
“Safe, in hiding. Why? Do you think we should move them?”
“Schon told me to take them to the island until we know more of what’s going on.”
Septimus nodded, his eyes wide, and Sergio could almost see the wheels turning in his head.
“This way, I’ll bring you to them.” With that, Sergio followed the Seer, biting his tongue as they went. Their shadows stretched and shrunk each time they passed a light, until finally what felt like an age later, Septimus opened another door. They stepped into a well-lit room, pale columns lining the walls and elegant furniture in the center. Despite the light having an appearance of natural sun from windows, he knew they were below the ground floor of the palace.
The king and queen were sitting on a creamy-white chaise in the center of the room. Teacups and books littered the coffee table before them, as if they’d been here a while, waiting. The queen, a raven-haired woman of about thirty-eight, looked nervous, her brows drawn in and up with consternation as she listened to her husband’s hushed words. The king himself was almost frowning, serious as he always was. Nearby, their children listened, or discussed amongst themselves. Analise, barely twenty years old, whispered something to her elder brother, Vernon. Nicha, the spoiled teenage princess, was sat upon another chair, watching eight year old Frey play with the twins, Garren and Hennar. They had thin little porcelain horses in their clumsy toddler hands, making neighing sounds and clicking their tongues like horse’s hooves. Sergio wished he could be so blissfully unaware of the world.
The king and queen and their three eldest children looked over when the door opened and their Seer stepped through with a guard whose skin was blotted with soot and whose left knee was bleeding, something sharp stuck through his pant leg at an angle, right atop the bone.
“Heavens, what’s going on up there?” The queen, Mirium, asked as she stood, prodding at her husband to follow her lead. King Eacre stood beside her, looking at the pair expectantly.
Septimus glanced sideways at Sergio, wondering briefly at the young man’s mentality. When he didn’t give a report right away, staring blankly at the floor by their feet, the Seer cleared his throat.
“As you may have guessed, your Highness, the kingdom is under attack-”
“No, it’s not- it’s the people, they’re in the castle, your Highness, they’re attacking… you.” Sergio cut in, forcing himself to focus on the king’s face. A man’s voice echoed dully in his head. “They let us live like mice! No more!”
“Do we know why?” Eacre asked, and the guard shook his head.
“Where is Schon?” Again, Sergio shook his head. He didn’t know.
“I assume he’s trying to fight them, flush them out. I’ve been tasked to bring you to the island, where they won’t find you. Those were my last instructions.” As he spoke, he became acutely aware of a dull throbbing in his leg. Afraid to look down and see the damage, he grimaced, squinting to straighten their figures in his vision. He stared intently at the king, avoiding the queen’s gaze as much as he could, disrespectful though it might have been. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head, the dots that were connecting, slowly but surely. He was almost ashamed by it. It’s her turn to be sacrificed. A mouse to a cat. He wasn’t about to voice his theory just then, however. His priority was getting the royal family to safety.
“Alright.” The king spoke after a moment. “Nicha, help Septimus with your siblings.”
“But-”
“Now. Vernon, help Sergio. You two are in front. Your mother and I will follow you all.”
“Can you walk?” Mirium cut in as she bent to help her children gather their toys. It took him a moment, and a hand on his shoulder from Septimus, before he realized that the queen was talking to him. Sergio nodded. “I’m fine.”
Septimus went to help with the twins and Frey, and once they were all ready, Sergio opened the door back into the tunnels again. A presence at his side made him glance over to find the prince there. He smiled at him, though it was a bit forlorn. Of all the royal children, the eldest son was the one he was closest with in age, and as such, the one he saw around the castle the most. Vernon was probably the most personable of his siblings. Analise was charming when she wanted something, mainly, but Vernon was always kind to everyone, from what Sergio could see. So he was glad it was Vernon helping him lead this important mission.
They ascended, back into the darkness of the castle’s tunnels, weaving their way through the palace to reach the hall that would take them through the mountain. The floor had barely begun to slope down when Sergio saw another light ahead, but it was not a lantern. A door was open. As they came closer, he saw it had been ripped from its hinges and placed across the tunnel that they were trying to get to. He hesitated, stopping and signalling for the others to stop behind him. He listened for a time, debating whether it was safe to look into the hallway. Every instinct was telling him it was a trap, but all he could hear was the people breathing behind him. Someone had known well enough to block their only way forward. Now, there were other doors behind this one that they could use to get back on track, but they would have to leave the safe tunnels and go into the castle to reach them. Unless they could move the door… Sergio glanced at Vernon, eyes questioning. Help me try and move it? He pointed, hoping he would get the message. Creeping forward, he couldn’t see anyone in the hall, but that didn’t mean there was no one there, watching, waiting for them to step into the light.
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