Chapter Fourteen: Lucifer Green

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Lysandra's Point of View

Lysandra breathed in the muggy air of Callis-a town in the strange in-between area caught between Midlands and Northern, looking out from her primitive inn 'suite', as she took in the marketplace.

Callis was lucky enough to be connected to a system of roads that had been built a few years ago; not yet developed enough to gain much attention, but well enough connected that people in the town began to worry about things greater than not starving each day. As a result, rebellion had recently been festering here.

As a daughter of the Empress Medea, it was easy for her to gain access to whatever the Crimson Guard knew about the rebellion in Callis. All so, so easy to figure out when the next raid might occur.

After weeks of waiting and watching, she'd finally struck lucky with a planned raid on suspected rebel's house. Everything was now in place; The Plan, which she'd been developing for ten years was fully detailed and about to begin. It had grown so ambitious over the years that she had wondered if it was even possible. But after years and years of polishing it, she knew she was ready.

She wrung her hands with worry but took a deep breath. This was it. The first step. If she botched this, the rest of her Plan wouldn't matter. She would meet the executioner's axe on the same block she had meant for her brothers.

Once this first bit was over, things would hopefully become less nerve wracking. She'd been planning this for longer than she hadn't, for a decade of her life. If anything in the Plan went wrong, she would die. But if it all went right...her brothers would hang from the gallows and she would be crowned heir to a huge empire that spanned across all South Silas.

Lysandra drew in one final breath and turned around to survey the hotel room. She would check out now and leave the city after it was done.

Exiting the room, she wore shadows-not noticeably, but in a way that made her face always hard to see properly, no matter the light. A favourite trick of hers that required a deal amount of concentration.

In ten minutes, she was gone.

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Lysandra waited by the suspected rebel's home. She had arrived early. Good. She preferred to give herself plenty of time to get to places that were so important.

Quietly, she rehearsed her plan in her mind. The lie she would have to tell, the person she would have to slip into as easily as she might slip into clothing. The sun burned high ahead, and she quickly checked her watch.

It was time.

For half a second, Lysandra wondered if she should back out. Now, there was still time. Now, she could get away, never run the risk of being caught, live her immortal life...as what? The sixth child, a daughter to marry away to some useless lord. No. She could not accept that fate, that fate of shackles and anonymity. Of standing beside her brother, bearing the crown she thirsted for.

Lysandra Crimson entered the house of the man that the Crimson Guard was about to kill and smiled. The house was larger than any other on the street, but still wasn't wealthy. It was all neat and organised, but beneath it you saw through to the cracks: walls peeling, sun-faded and crumbled brick. The floors creaked beneath her feet.

"Lucifer?" She called out to the silent home, mask distorting her voice-another intentional, well-planned move. The doors had been locked, but that hadn't been a problem for her. 

"Lucifer...Green, was it?" Lysandra barely got the time to breathe before the arrow rocketed toward her head. It was easy to dodge. A fool's shot.

Lucifer Green was surprisingly ordinary-looking. Brown hair, brown eyes, the typical olive skin of Kallians, old enough not to be young, but young enough not to be old. He carried a steel sword with him and looked as though he was about to lunge toward her...and would have, if he hadn't noticed she was only eighteen(or looked it, anyway) and was quite unarmed.

"Who are you?" He asked her, voice hoarse. "And how in the burning suns did you get in?"

"All quite irrelevant questions." Lysandra yawned. "Because the Crimson Guard is going to be here in a few minutes."

"Crimsith," he spat, even as fear trickled into his face.

"Oh no, not one of their little soldiers. I'm here to tell you to run and run quickly. There is a horse prepared for you in the old stables. Or if you like, a noose waiting for you in the capital." The trickle of fear burst into a flood as the reality dawned on him.

"Couldn't have told me earlier?"

"I'm afraid not."

"How do I trust you?"

"You have to," she replied. The man pushed past her to walk into the street, and he stopped. The Guard arrived earlier than Lysandra had thought.

"Run, Lucifer" she commanded him. "Run now and you'll make it." The man looked her in the eye, assessing. In a blink, he was gone.

The Guard at the other end of the street began to chase him, but Lysandra held her hand up, bearing the Crimson seal, red as blood and black as night. They stopped.

"Make one move towards him, and you'll be committing treason," she told the Guard, intentionally mimicking her oldest brother's voice. The three men stopped. "Disobeying the orders of one of the royal family."

"The man is a suspected insurgent," one of them said, younger than the rest. The other two silenced him.

"Oh, is he?" She laughed. "How curious. I suppose you'd love to know why I don't want you hunting him down."

"That would be helpful."

"'That would be helpful'." She mimicked. "Well, I suppose it is your right to demand these answers from a Crimson. That, even though you are a low-born maggot, I have to explain myself to you. I am the child of the WitchKiller, the child of the ShadowWielder, the child of the Empress. Of course, I must explain myself to you." The man froze, realising his mistake.

"Pray I don't remember your face, maggot." With that, Lysandra left, and the street was silent.

Well, authority was one thing she did love about being a royal.She went to the next hotel and awaited Lucifer's message, watching from the window as they burned his house to ash. She never said they couldn't do that, after all.

It was a conflagration that drew dozens of onlookers, almost enough to make her wish that shadow magic hadn't corrupted the normal human love of fire.

      ---------------

Perhaps people would judge her. Call her a murderer and a heartless girl who was willing to shed the blood of her brothers for power. What they did not understand was that they would have killed her youngest brother if she did not kill them.

It might not be soon. It might not be until years from now. But her elder brothers hated Aaron deeply. He was the one their mother loved. He was the one that discovered alchemy. He was the golden prince, who, even though he had been lastborn, had cast a shadow over them all.

They'd have killed her afterwards, the princess with political favour and a talent for the sharemarkets.

They would both have been dead, because together they could have overthrown the five brothers. Unfair? Certainly. Cruel? Beyond measure. Unpunished? Marcus was the eldest son of the empress. Of course, he would go unpunished.

So Lysandra was fighting for her life, just as she fought for their deaths. More than that, she was fighting for Aaron, her youngest brother. Nobody understood Lysandra. Nobody looked into the deep corners of her dark, secret soul of pain and a single bright speck that was Aaron.

But whilst Aaron did not understand her, could not understand her, he still held her hand through the dark parts, a smile on her lips when everything was dark and cold.So, she would kill them, frame them. For Aaron. For herself. And most importantly, for power.

           

What are your thoughts? Who's P.O.V. do you prefer so far? Are you following all the different storyline's okay?

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