A Script from the Peony War | manxman |

Script One | The Prince's Keep | ~ end ~

A Script from the Peony War

SCRIPT ONE

The Prince's Keep

— IV —

Raeyn couldn't fathom why this was happening. This was supposed to be simple. He was supposed to be on his way to meet with his soon-to-be husband, not running for what may as well be his life. He'd never run so hard to flee a sense of danger, and didn't think his lungs would be able to keep up with the push required to reach his goal. In this portion of the Midlands, there weren't many trees to begin with, so he couldn't cling to the hope of going unseen as he sprinted this distance.

"King Bevari agreed to your terms on the basis of no bloodshed!"

Those had been the words spoken by his shield. What could he have possibly meant by that? His brother wouldn't use him as some worthless pawn. Or was it that he was a valuable pawn in whatever scheme had been created under his nose?

Raeyn could hardly breathe let alone think straight. If he could just make it to the Keep and hide away until nightfall, he was confident he'd be able to make the journey to the Vholgera castle on his own. Even if he couldn't quite make it to a bridge, there would be no issue swimming through Division's River to reach the other side.

Feeling as though his lungs might burst from his chest, Raeyn carried on as quickly as his legs could carry him. His forehead was dotted with sweat, and a great sting was clinging to his thighs and calves, and the bottom of his feet felt as though they were directly smacking the terrain with each step. Parched for anything to drink, Raeyn tried to restrain himself from thinking about how terribly his own body was feeling.

Carrying himself across stretches of land minute after minute, the sun that was once at its highest peak began to sink across the sky, inching closer and closer to the horizon. As it would soon come to rest in the west, Raeyn's heart sobbed from the desire of wanting to reach out to the blazing sphere, as if it would cradle him in its embrace before setting him down in the one place the view of the sunset was most beautiful.

Along the coast of the World's End, nearest to Jon, nearest to his most loved.

Yet here he timorously trekked down toward the Keep, and after dreadful hours of working his body to the brink of crumbling, Raeyn finally began to see the sharp tip of the Keep as it emerged in his line of sight.

Like a beacon of hope beckoning him forward, Raeyn at last reached the place that'd always been so good to him. It was filled to the brim with memories and hopeful longings, was where he and Jon planned out their future together well before the weight of their feelings was fully understood. Not once had sadness or anger or fear entered the Keep after it essentially became theirs, but the deluge of Raeyn's fright tainted the once tranquil walls the second he entered.