Chapter Text
Thump thump thump
The sounds of heavy drums pound through the air and vibrate deep in your bones, dancing alongside your heartbeat and intertwining with your soul. Flames from the mighty fires lick upwards as if to taste the night sky and swallow the stars that look down upon the people who dance and twirl and worship life around it. Songs are chanted from every mouth and laughter rings like a prayer throughout the crowds. Thick scents of hot goods fill nostrils of hungry party goers and the cobble streets crawl with people who gather on this good day.
Summer solstice is always a mighty celebration here in the kingdom of Erisala, a day to relax and commemorate the year going by. A day to eat and drink and wobble home down the streets to a warm bed, belly full and breathe in the ghost of smoke from the dying fires around the streets and in the fields. A day where all the kingdoms leaders join the villagers in celebration, disputes aside.
Halfy, ruler of The Halfway lands, sits with the children and paints their faces with whorls and dots and fearsome creatures. They paint the floor and any other surface they deem too dull with broad strokes of colour and chalk. A rare sight to see - the feared war commander so openly expressing her softer side, big smiles and a gentle brush stroke on young cheeks that have the kids giggling and beaming and pulling at their parents to show the dragon that’s elegantly formed on their face.
Wiping her forehead and clothes with paint splattered hands, not caring that it transfers onto the fabric and face, she scoops the stray strands of blonde hair back behind her ears to begin a new art piece on the infant next in line.
On the other hand, Winks, ruler of Winkleton, leads the group in song, standing tall on stacks of haybales she and the other field workers had pulled in that morning. Arms thrown wide and translucent wings fluttering elegantly behind her, allowing her to hover off the ground slightly. Her voice cutting through the noise like sharp silk laced with syrup and the promise of secrets.
The legends of her voice nothing but true, akin to a sirens call - whenever Winks’ songs are heard the world stands still to listen. Even the winds in which she soars in so often seem to calm as if curious by this noise, pondering how a mortal can produce such otherworldly sounds. The cousins letting their hair down away from royal duties for what feels like an eternity.
The third cousin, Livy, floats around, participating in all activities, laughing and breathing and spending time with her family as they get a moment of respite and can have a fully formed conversation without hearing
‘sorry Livy, we’ll continue this later I have to attend to’.
She would never hold It against them. Running a kingdom of this size is a difficult job, even if the snake of disappointment curls in her stomach every time they cut her off with matters seemingly more pressing than the flowers she found by the river that day. But at least tonight, they chat and gossip and bloom in each other's presence with no excuse to shut her out. Tonight is joyous.
Somewhere on the far end of the kingdom, the king stands on his castle balcony, looking to the furthest reaches of the city where light bubbles and people move like ants on the floor. A soft breeze lifts the panels of his cape where it clips to his shoulders before flourishing behind him and splitting in two pieces at the front, flowing down to touch his fingertips. It holds the stray stands of the long braid curling around his shoulder and tries to pull them free to no avail.
I should be down there, with my people.
Indecision ripples through the young man on if he should abandon logic and sprint down the stone steps and enjoy the one night a year he is off duty. The truth is, he is right in his hesitation, half his kingdom would simply glare and shuffle home, grab their children with hushed voices and disperse to somewhere, anywhere away from him. Was ruining the night for half his kingdom worth the praise and party he’d receive from the others who didn’t see him as a monster? King Gary, a man widely respected across the nation, but to his own people, nothing but a tyrant. Was it worth it to have other kingdoms fearful of crossing him but his own people too?
The answer never comes and Gary wishes his sister was there for guidance. She had been gone for too long, and even upon her return refusing to speak to him after the last war. Guilt pangs in his chest at the thought of her, and what he had caused and yet he cant find himself regretting what was done. His only regret was letting her walk away all those years ago, not burning all she had built. Her sobs heard deep into the night from outside her castle room burn his ears oh so often.
It was the only option – it had to be done.
That had become a mantra at this point, only to sooth his conscious when his sisters wails haunt him, forever grieving her people whom she had lost that fateful evening. Sighing and trudging inside, Gary flops onto his bed and stares at the roof of the canopy, eyes tracing the silly patterns and pictures him and his younger sister had engraved onto it as children. He would wage a million wars to go back and hold her one last time.
Across the crowds, in a quieter corner of the ongoing festivities, Kyan sits with a mug of booze and laughs at her lovers as they make jokes and sip hot stew. Shifting from the itch of hay against her back, she wiggles uncomfortably and splays out her wings to try wrangle them around the bale.
‘Stop squirming so much, you’re gonna take my eye out if you keep flaring like that’ Zoey laughs from kyans left, swatting at the appendage coming straight at her head.
To her right, Mary giggles, a sound like sunshine and Ky relaxes and smiles softly at them both, swallowing the sarcastic comment about to tip off her tongue. Zoey takes this as an opportunity to lay flat against the grass and look up at the stars, placing her straw hat on her chest and softly humming the tunes that are heard being sung gently in the distance.
Her ears twitch and stand tall between strands of soft brown hair that are tucked messily into a bun at the base of her neck and a long strand of wheat hangs lazily out her mouth. Mary looks over at her, listening intently to the soft melody she creates and feels her stomach drop at the thought she had taken her from the fun.
‘I'm sorry I pulled you both away over here..I uh... I'm still not great with crowds and those big...fires’ She whispers out into the air, not looking at either of her partners.
She twirls the daisy in her hand Zoey had picked for her earlier nervously and looks at the ground, eyes glazing over slightly. Ky looks over solemnly, plucking the flower from her fingers and tucking it gently behind her ear, smoothing the long locks of liquid gold and rubs a thumb over her cheek with the motion. She can almost hear what Mary is reminiscing on, getting sucked back to that same night herself.
Children screaming, cries ringing out like a death bell. The fires – oh god the fires. Roaring, crackling, chewing away at the wood of homes as they groan in pain and collapse. Despite the thick sheet of rain cracking down and creating thick sludge like mud under the pounding feet of army battalions, the flames rage on, glistening with a sheen of otherworldly power.
Forbidden magic.
Kyan looks around frantic, squinting to see through the torrential weather as the battle commences and the familiar clang of metal on metal is heard from somewhere behind her. No no no not here – where is she. All logic flies out her head as she abandons her station, ignoring the infuriated bellows of her name from her fellow soldiers who are holding the lines. Its chaos. Villagers are fleeing left and right and getting cut down in the confusion of an ambush. Friend or foe, everyone suffers.
Then she hears it, through the screams of agony, cutting through the mayhem sharper than any sword – a painful sobbing. So void of the joy Kyan always heard her vocalize. Tearing through the flames recklessly and cutting down enemies with vicious passion, blood coating the floor, her armour, Ky pushes through the lines to find her lover.
She was no stranger to war. To the destruction and loss of life. But never had it felt so personal until now. This village, hidden away on the outskirts of another kingdom full of friendly faces and welcoming arms is now nothing but a home to carnage. The place where her and Zoey would ride too, if only to get away for an afternoon, work keeping them apart most days.
The place they met Mary who radiated life, kindness, all things good and right in the world. Her hair shone like the sun itself and her laugh swam in your veins spreading warmth and safety. There was none of that now. Her face twisted in sorrow as she drags children away from their fallen parents and pushes them into the woods away from the violence. Hair grey with soot and flat with water, a deep burn snaking up her arm and eyes that have dulled from what was once the purest shade of yellow.
Rage and relief equally bubbles in Ky's veins as she works her way through anyone holding a weapon to get to her lover and wrapping her in her arms. She grabs Mary and runs with her over to the woods, bringing as many survivors with them. Then without warning, the sharp fizzle of magic cuts through the air like a knife, forcing its way into your nostrils, making the hairs on your neck stand to attention.
Looking back across the ruins of the town Kyan sees Prancer, one of the Kingdoms top knights, mowing down enemies left and right - stony faced with a skill that seems almost inhuman. The large blade of their sword oozing enemy blood as several strands of mousey hair that have broken free from where the rest is tied back drip with sweat and rain. Halfy dances next to them, closing the blind spots of them both as they slash and cut and lay waste to whoever is in proximity before a blast of light and rubble abruptly throws them both to the ground prompting several barking orders from the other soldiers to both check and protect their Leader.
Amidst it all, one of their own knights - Ghostie - stands over them, crazed look in his once blue eyes that now glow with the shifting purple promise of magic. He strings together catastrophic spell after spell, not caring where or who they hit, broken laughter ringing out drinking in the chaos. A clap on thunder echos across the land as Kyan takes a panicked step towards them before Mary tugs at her arm,
‘Ky we need to go, please’ she pleads, looking up at the soldier in anguish.
Ky bites her lip violently and feels the tang of iron coat her tongue, indecision raging with the raw instincts to help her commander. As if on cue, a glowing arrow flies across the frenzy into Ghosties shoulder with a wet thud, drawing out an angry cry from the man as he grimaces and rips it out with little care to the damage that it must have caused to his nerves.
The magic in the air prickles like lightning about to strike and Kyan shudders as the traitor turns to face his new opponent, the broken skin of his wound stitching back together from whatever ungodly spells he has his grip on. Another familiar face is seen standing a while away, bow already loaded and aimed for the next shot. Bug stares down the husk of her friend, a pleading look in her eye to stand down.
Mary tugs at Kyans arm again snapping her back to reality and with one last look at her crumbling squad, she turns and scoops up several of the children and runs through the forest, as far away from danger as she could take them. Dodging and weaving from branches that reach out with sharp fingers to cut her cheeks, she shakes her head desperately trying to come to terms with the catastrophe she just witnessed. Ghostie, once a good friend, had reached the breaking point Kyan had feared was coming.
Their job as top blacksmith back home was only surface level, she knew this from the days she spent as a mercenary. His craftsman ship known all across the kingdom, sturdy and strong, some of the most legendary (and definitely most expensive) weaponry was forged by his hand. But by night he would mold items with enchantments, spells as old as time, long since outlawed to be made in most kingdoms due to the unknown and magical effects on people who wielded them, fought with them - let alone made them.
Bought mostly by mercenaries who could afford them, and could keep the secret. Kyan had told Ghostie to stop, that he wasn't himself but only tried so hard, too caught up in her own affairs at the time. Despite Kyans protests, he was drafted for war and she was just waiting for the snap, for the tether holding their mind to this earth to break.
And broken it was. There's no going back now, for either of them.
Zoey places a hand on Kyan and Marys shoulders, grounding them back to reality and wiping a tear that had rolled down Marys soft face.
‘No time to dwell, eh? Come on, let's go get some food, I'm still starving’ Zoey grinned and extends hands for both her lovers who take them and stand with her.
Zoey didn’t know what happened that day, neither of them spoke about it, but when Kyan had stumbled into the stables in the early hours of the morning with Mary, both carrying children all covered in grime and gore, enough was said. Zoey had rushed over, ears pinned down in panic and sadness when she saw the blistering burn Mary was cradling and choked on a sob after seeing the singed feathers and tissue on her other lover's right wing that the avian had barely noticed until they were deep into the woods and all adrenaline calmed.
Those days had been difficult.
Finding homes for the young ones, the long path to recovery for physical injuries and an even longer one for the mental wounds inflicted. Countless nights all three spent, awoken by Marys screams, tormented by her own mind in her sleep. Zoey would cradle her and sing soft songs to calm her, hold her through her cries while Ky would bolt up, hand already gripping her sword and pace outside the house, chasing off Marys imaginary demons, and perhaps even her own.
They had stayed in the house Zoey owned outside the gates of the kingdom in worry of the war party returning and the consequences of Kyans abandonment of her station. And yet when the time came and Winks and Gary met Halfy at the front gates with the surviving soldiers, Mary seemed more anxious than the other two.
The three rode on horseback, Mary behind Zoey, gripping onto her waist to greet those who made it home, only to be met with the same void expressions from most, the mist of death hanging over them all. The black steel of armour, scuffed and bloody, reflecting the rays of sun floating down as if to try and ward away all the shadows they brought home.
Kyan took a sharp intake of breath and quickly scanned the mass of soldiers, looking for specific faces, praying that her friends had not fallen in that chaos she had not stayed to witness. Breathing out and letting her shoulders slump slightly as she sees Bug in the crowd, bandaged to hell but walking, bow slung across her shoulder along with the long blonde plait she always bore, pointed ears sticking out. Her skin a soft shade of green barely visible beneath the thin layer of soot and dirt.
However, the moment of relief ripped away almost immediately as Ky’s jaw drops, eyes flicking to her wings behind her – or should I say lack thereof. Pixies are a rare species, endangered and often seen as high value to the sleezy kingdoms that still operate with a black-market (Winks and Bug being some of the few to exist in the whole kingdom). But now, only the base of the appendage remains, tips seemingly torn off in jagged points.
What the hell happened that day.
The pixie stands tall despite the bags hanging under her eyes, commanding the party through the gates and keeping everyone in check as a large group of soldiers seem to be transporting something, no, someone into the kingdom's gates. Ky squints and swallows the nauseous feeling building up in her throat as she gets a glimpse of Ghostie swathed in chains. At least she’s pretty sure that’s him. Dark circles engulf the sockets of his eyes and his cheekbones are hollowed out looking like a walking corpse.
A huge gash splits down the front of his chest plate showing old blood crusting his undergarments from the wound that had caused the metal to part. He half stumbles half gets pushed through by the soldiers to what Ky assumes would be imprisonment for an undetermined amount of time. Maybe forever. Not only treason, but meddling and using powerful magic against the kingdom. Forever is looking like the most likely option. Bug looks down at him with such hatred Ky can only imagine that the battle she had barely seen ended poorly.
Understatement of the century she thinks to herself.
How Bug survived the massacre they’d clearly endured is beyond her. The knight looks over at the sound of hooves approaching and meets Ky’s eye before scowling and turning away, focusing on their task once more and following the others through the gates. I deserve that. She sighs, no time to feel the guilt building in her chest as they notice Halfy rapidly approaching, Prancer close behind, limping yet wielding their enormous sword at whoever dares step too close to their leader.
They made it out too, thank god
Prancer was a good soldier, coming from a long generation of knights that had always fought on the front lines and protected the kingdom till the end. The family is widely respected by the citizens and even leaders, Prancer getting knighted by Halfy herself, becoming her personal guard after she got herself into one too many close calls in the heat of battle. Winks and King Gary follow them, their faces an unreadable shocked expression. Dismounting their horses, Zoey squeezes Kyans hand, ready for what's about to come as they gain ground, closer and closer until -
They walk right past the two, brushing Zoey’s shoulder and leaving them standing in disbelief. The two turn rapidly to see Mary being engulfed by all three leaders of the kingdom, and they’re crying? Zoey and Ky share an equally confused look at the sight In front of them.
‘You came back!’ Winks cries, voice high pitched and holding back a sob, gripping onto Mary tightly along with the King engulfing her in a hug.
Halfy stands with a hand on her cousin's shoulder and looks equally as teary.
‘I didn’t think I'd see you again... you’ve changed so much’ The king murmurs into her hair from where he holds on behind her.
Zoey steps forward, clearly over this moment and now starting to feel defensive of all these people around Mary after what she just went through.
‘Is anyone gonna tell me what is going on?!’
She taps her foot and looks to Mary with an eyebrow raised, looking for an answer or a sign that she needed to start swinging at the people squeezing her so tight. Leaders be damned – Zoey would kick a god in the face if need be. The golden-haired girl simply cracks a half smile, awkward in nature and clears her throat,
‘uhhhh....I haven't been totally honest with you two’.
Mary was a princess.
The missing Princess of their kingdom, who left at 16, only to return 5 years later after a war had destroyed the home she had made outside a neighbouring kingdom. After her return, she eventually was swept away by her brother to attend once more to royal duties that had made her run all that time ago.
If not for her two lovers Mary would have never returned, even if in the past she lay awake, miles away from her kingdom feeling a ghost of guilt slide under her skin and sit with her until the sun rose once again. But tonight, she was free from it all. No meetings to pretend to be interested in, no lessons on etiquette, no parading around like a puppet. Just a night to relax, spend time with the people she cared most about.
A night where she can trade her heavy royal gowns for something lighter, a yellow number with billowing sleeves of glittering gossamer that cinch at the elbows then blooming out again until they once more are captured at the wrist. The many layers of chiffon flowing behind her every time she walks or catches the breeze. Golden lace adorns all the seams and small daisy's are embroidered down the gowns length, gathering at the waist then tumbling like a waterfall of the tiny plants.
Despite the protests from the castle maids who muttered silly things of “improper” and “unsuitable for royalty” she made sure to have it cut down one leg and at the top allowing her shoulders to kiss the daylight for once.
It was as if she was the summer itself, brought into a body and set to roam its earth. Mary had done her duties in the early hours of the day, passed around baked goods to her subjects, helped with decorations and even had a dance and song with her fellow leaders as the moon began its journey across the sky, dragging a carpet full of stars along with it. But as the night grew darker and the fires brighter, she needed some space to remind herself she wasn’t back in the place she had made her home.
The chanting wasn't screaming.
The dancing wasn't soldiers striking to kill.
Even now, as Zoey in front leads her and Ky down one of the side streets, avoiding most of the crowd her heartbeat picks up if only slightly. A squeeze of the hand from the mule hybrid in front of her slows it down and the tender hand between her shoulder blades from the avian behind finishes the job. Mary smiles and inhales greedily at the smell of fresh soup and sweet pastries that seem to wind itself through the narrow paths.
‘Where are you taking me? That smells delicious’. Her mouth begins to water and the grumble in her stomach reminds her that she hadn't eaten since that morning, too preoccupied with helping set up festivities.
The music fades out to a distant hum and the banners above their heads become fewer and far between as they take a right and follow a significantly uneven path down a backstreet, home to some of the small buildings backdoor's and bins littered in fron
t of them like wooden guards. Zoey pauses in front of a particularly clean door, the kingdoms crest etched into the fine wood, even the handle polished before turning back and grinning at the two. With a smug smile and a few raps on the door they await whoever has been called to the back of their business. No answer. Zoeys smile drops and she knocks again, eliciting a snort from Ky who leans lazily against one of the smooth stone walls watching the hybrid sweat.
‘No no wait they’ll answer just give it a sec’ she begins to explain, a light blush blossoming on her cheeks, accentuating the freckles dotted on her nose.
Mary offers a small giggle and gives Zoey a raised eyebrow. As Zoey fidgets through the silence and lifts her hand to knock again they hear a set of soft footsteps approach from inside and the door squeaks open to reveal a young woman half the size of the door she just swung. Short red curls bounce as she frantically wipes what appears to be flour on her brown cotton apron, effectively leaving smudged handprints. Shifting her thick round glasses up from where they droop on her nose she looks around to the three before breaking out into a big smile lined at the edges with kindness.
‘Well well look what the cat dragged in, or should I say horse’ She begins as Zoey gives a playful scowl and mutters ‘Mule...’, ears twitching in feigned annoyance.
‘You know - I have a front door, not that you ever use it Zoey’ the small lady tuts before extending an arm to welcome them inside.
Zoey happily strolls in as Mary gives Ky a shrug and follows her indoors. The avian pushes off the wall and finally enters as the owner shuts the door behind her. Walking through a small corridor adorned with polished wooden floors and past a large kitchen splattered with cooking utensils and ingredients it's clear that the smells twirling outside originated here. Sickly sweet sugars drift between touches of fresh bread, melding together with the warmth of the shop acting like a cuddle in gaseous form.
Coming out onto the main floor, the walls are painted a deep beige with auburn accents around the base of the wall and skirting boards. Thick wooden tables adorned with baskets of all kinds of goods line the right side of the floor in an L shape as you walk in what would be the front entrance. Grey curtains are pulled aside on each end of the large windows either side of the door, rows of flowers peacefully living on the thick wooden windowsills outside.
Small clusters of tables are placed to the left of the room, only a few, rubbing off that most buyers don’t stay for a dine in experience but more grab and go. The low hung ceilings are supported with large wooden beams, clearly old but spotless all the same. Ky shifts awkwardly and looks down at her attire, feeling out of place in such a delicate space, as if worried that by just standing in the room she’d make a mess of the tidiness the shop keeper obviously takes pride in.
She had dropped most of her knight armour after officially retiring from the royal force (due to the past events) and opted for mismatching parts of her old uniform with clothes more suited to the calmer lifestyle she now lived. Black cotton fashioned into a simple tunic shirt with long dark sleeves beneath became her new everyday wear alongside a pair of brown pants that parachute out only to get cuffed below the knee.
Despite her stepping away from the front of battle she still kept the heavy black boots and the gloves that cover all but her thumb. A thick black belt holds the cape that drapes around her waist and reaches just off the ground and is also home to the sheath in which her sword stays.
It's a stark difference to the fashionable fabrics the shop keeper wears, her style very different to the popular clothes in this kingdom. Soft brown shoes and intricate white lace that brushes lightly against the floor stem from the seams at the bottom of her sage green dress and simultaneously adorns her collar, the shoulders puffing slightly like little cupcakes. Even her brown apron that cuts short mid-thigh is sinched in a dark corset squeezing her waist and holding it in place. It was as if her and this shop were molded from the same clay, and yet it was foreign to Kyan.
Zoey rushes over to the counter ogling at all the goodies, tail swishing in glee before pointing at several savory pastries sprinkled with various wheat's and seeds to the woman now taking her place behind the table ready to serve.
‘Ooo Sketch they smell so good I want them all! Guys come pick something, I promise you will never have food as good as this in your life ever’ the mule hybrid exclaims as the red head seemingly known as Sketch chuckles lightly and starts placing the food in a brown bag.
Mary glides over, captured easily by her lovers praise for such a place and flows into easy conversation with the shopkeeper.
‘My apologies,’ she begins, inclining her head at the woman behind the counter, ‘I never introduced myself or even asked your name. I am Mary, and that is Kyanide brooding over in the corner, she's a grumpy thing and you probably won't get much talking from them so feel free to ignore.’ she beams, waving a hand over to the bird hybrid fidgeting in one of the chairs attempting to shift her wings around yet another obstacle.
Mary sighs and shakes her head in pretend pity
‘Poor creature, woe is her. Moving on, you seem acquainted with Zoey already so no need for introductions on that front. I'm surprised I haven't met you before, I feel almost foolish for passing by such a beautiful business.’
Sketch lets her finish before giving a deep curtsy and places a soft hand upon her heart.
‘No no, my apologies for having you stare down my back door instead of getting to enjoy the luxury of the main entrance. I'll have to kick Zoey for treating royalty in such a way. My name is Sketch and I am fairly new to the kingdom so I won't take it personally that you’ve so easily neglected my shop in the small time I've been here’
Mary would be both taken aback by how boldly this tiny woman speaks but also guilty if not for the gleam of mischief in her eye showing no serious offense. Her unruly locks bounce like a spring as she quickly straightens from her bow and continues to chatter with the Princess.
Zoey crosses the room and waves a pastry in Kyans face, tempting her to snatch it and sink her teeth into it eliciting an excited warble and chirp at the sugar exploding on her tongue. Zoey laughs, sitting in the chair opposite and lightly kicks Ky’s shin under the table.
‘Bird brain’ she snickers and bites her own heavenly snack.
Ky tries to look offended but gives up as quick as she started, too distracted with scoffing the last scraps of food and slouching back satisfied.
‘I’ll give you this, that really was one of the best things I've eaten maybe ever. What on earth is in those? Hard drugs? Magic? Must be’ Kyan rambles on to no one in particular stretching out, already starting to feel the tiredness creep under her eyes, keeping them heavy.
Mary floats over to the other two with Sketch, holding a neatly wrapped bag full of goodies between her hands, a happy smile plastered on her face after whatever conversation they had been having.
‘Sketch was telling me how you’re a regular here Zoey my dear, cheeky of you to hide such a pleasantry like this from your most favourite people in the world’ Mary coos at the hybrid leaning back in her chair, crumbs around the edges of her mouth.
‘I was savin’ it for a special occasion, I would never hold such luxuries from my highness.’ Zoey drawls out and peaks her voice to sound primed and proper before taking the Princess’ hand and planting an elegant kiss atop it.
Kyan snorts and stands up, moving behind Mary and resting her chin on the smallers shoulder as her arms go lax at her sides, letting her eyes close and humming into her hair.
‘Tired now, festivals over. Let's go cuddle’
Zoey rises too and takes a hand from both her partners looking between them both with a fond expression, almost forgetting about her friend who had gone back to her work behind the counter, putting lids on baskets and other menial chores if only just to give some privacy to her customers.
‘Alright Sketch, we’ve got to get bird brain home, poor thing can't make it past 9 o clock these days. First retirement, now these early nights. Before you know it we’ll have to put her in a home old gal’ she teases getting another swift kick to the shin, this time noticeably harder.
‘Ow! You’ve got to get rid of those god forsaken boots, are you trying to smite me!?’
This earns a sleepy grin from the avian who pivots with Mary and opens one eye to look at her lover in a way as if to say absolutely. Wincing, Zoey hobbles over like she just lost her leg to the counter where Sketch promptly laughs at her friend and accepts the gold pieces dropped into her hand.
‘I hope to see you all again soon, take care getting home now’ She calls to the trio as they walk out the front door, arm in arm.
Someone once said that good things can't last forever.
That seems to be the ground work this kingdom operates on. History has proven this right time and time again. For as the citizens celebrate far away, engrossed in their festivities, someone stands atop the roofs in the Halfway lands watching over the prison doors. Their thick coat billows in the wind as they twirl a scythe glowing with something inhuman between nimble fingers. Another pair of feet thud and the woosh of wings landing drop behind the first figure before stepping up next to them on the ledge. The three cloaked figures look down to the steel mouth carved into the walls of Erisala's maximum security prison.
‘You’re sure he’s in there?’ one of them asks, their voice hushed.
‘Where else would they put someone with that much power’
‘They’re gonna be keeping him way below the surface you know.’
‘Good thing most of the guards are out getting drunk then isn't it’
‘Shame. I wanted to kill something tonight’
As the drums beat like a pulse in the distance a bottle shatters beneath the feet of the three figures and they are gobbled up into nothingness, gone to the naked eye.
‘Lets go.’
And they drop down into the night.