The reflection of the Queen: Exile

Chapter 4

Fear.

Cavintosh was said to be the city of freedom, of order, of peace. To the person perched on the rooftops of the Western District, it seemed to be the city of fear. He could feel the fear vibrating in every house or pebble in the streets. The inhabitants of that island were like animals hiding in their burrows, listening for the footsteps of predators outside. Every day they wondered if it would be the last, the day when everything the Insurrection had built would burn. They could not know, but that day was coming.

He smiled, proud to be one of the predators.

He found the place truly pathetic. The insurrectionists thought they were very clever and strong, sure that they were safe from their enemies. In the end they had forgotten how powerful that enemy was. They had forgotten that they were ants wielding weapons against a dragon. They thought that by removing the mirrors from the island they were one step ahead, and that thought made him want to laugh out loud. For those who wanted to see that place disappear, just one was enough to wipe it off the map. The leaders of the Insurrection were arrogants, but terrified arrogants.

More than a city, Cavintosh looked like ruins, not only because it had been built on the remains of the ancient civilization that inhabited it centuries ago, but also because of the grayish and dilapidated buildings. The people looked like ruins too, with their philosophy of discipline, obedience and austerity, as well as the absence of the essential parts of themselves that they had given up after abandoning their homeland and rejecting their new rulers. The truth was that he felt no pity that the place was doomed.

His dark cloak billowed, melting into the darkness as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, silent and swift as a shadow. Below, the general's soldiers were making the nightly rounds, for lack of anything more heroic to entertain them. Apparently, that was the only thing Cavintosh's men could do: join the army and, if you were deemed unfit, take up fishing or handicrafts. It was as if the Insurrection had thrown away all the advances society had made in recent decades, going back several steps. Exasperatingly boring, he said. Everyone accepted their role in Cavintosh, thinking alike and blindly obeying General Fyodor Aursong and Prince Eneas Kraeman.

Actually, maybe not everyone. At least, there was someone who didn't..

He managed to dodge all the night watchmen, making his way up the streets until he reached that small stone castle that crowned the city. There was another one at the other end of Vint Mountain. The place was surprisingly unguarded, probably because they thought it was too safe for anyone to think of attacking it. That wasn't his intention yet, but he hoped it wouldn't be too long before that time came. He perched himself on the walls surrounding the house, and once he found a spot from which the guards could not see him, he just waited. There had been more excitement than usual at the training grounds, and he suspected that Aursong might be up to something. Nothing particularly important, he hoped. He was used to sleepless nights, keeping watch, not to mention his insomnia. He suspected that a certain lady-in-waiting in that same house also suffered from it, but she wasn't very receptive on the subject.

Careful not to be seen, he walked along the edge of the walls to surround the house. That security left much to be desired, despite the 'immense skill' of the insurgent army. Everything seemed to be in order until he reached the back of the building, where there were hardly any guards, and he thought he heard a noise. He frowned as he recognized even in the distance the voice of the general. It was already dark, what would he be doing outside?

He followed the sound to a secluded area of the stables from where the intermittent sound of the man's voice reached him. Suddenly, he heard a very different one that caused him to stop in mid-step. Feminine, faint and plaintive. She feared the worst.