The sun begins to set casting us in an orange glow, and the Coronation streamers begin to look like blood falling from the sky. Everything has a tint of horror to it in this sacred place, power turned to fear as the most powerful person in the world was shot before our very eyes. What will the people say? We'll be faced with so many questions and so much paperwork. My sister might die. When did this day go so wrong?
If she dies, I'm next in line. Blayne can't receive the crown because he's a man. I'm not ready to be queen. So many people would refuse me as Queen, and so many people would be against me. For the first time in years, I close my eyes and pray.
She stands in a daze, her green eyes glossy with tears. "She'll be fine, little one. You need to get to the castle so we can get everything calm and settled, okay?" I speak softly, in an attempt to soften what she has witnessed. Blayne lifts her, carrying her to the shimmering black transports that wait for us. I stay behind, my breathing out of control. Short, shallow breaths make me panic, and I hide my struggle as best as I can. My eyes find something else to look at, the sun, the grass, the stage slick with my sister's blood. Darkness replaces what I see, as I squeeze my eyes shut. "V?" My surroundings come in blurry when I open them again, and I search for the strength I had earlier to speak. "Hmm?" He glances back at the transport, before examining me. "She'll be fine, Ilvera. She's strong." I lick my lips, trying to shake the fear clawing at my throat. That's not what this is, my mind screams. "I'll be home soon. I need a bit of time," I force out. He nods in understanding, placing a kiss on my forehead. I watch as they take off, leaving me alone in a place I shouldn't. I stumble off the stage, walking down the sidewalk towards the villages.
The roads are bustling with people and shops, and banners of Evelyn's coronation hang from land posts. She looks regal, her eyes sharp with authority and focus. I grip the bricks at the opening of an alleyway, and the sounds around me are too much. Cool concrete against my forehead soothes me as my knees hit the ground. My hair sticks to my lip to suffocate me even more, and I gulp in greedy, selfish amounts of air. "Excuse me, my lady. Are you alright?" I turn my head slowly, keeping my head on the ground so I don't spiral into madness. "I can't b-breath," I whisper. The man has lines of stress set in his face, his round blue eyes bright in the lights of the city. He's forty years old, my best guess, and homeless. I can tell by the dirt on his arms, his gray hair and his shirt hanging off his shoulder in a weak attempt to keep holding on to him. He's not a surprise, not really. Homeless men litter the streets, left without a woman to care for them, shelter them, and feed them. "Sweetheart, you're having a panic attack. Take these." I hesitate, hands curled into my chest. I must be weak, because even though I could be in danger, even though these pills can be anything, I take it, desperate to get this feeling away from me.
My breathing, my racing heart, my thoughts, my trembling all come to a slow stop like the shutdown of a machine. He pats my arm and I sit back on my hands. I could take him if it comes down to it, and wrap my arms around his neck before he can react, breaking it. I could take the knife that's strapped against my leg and drive it through his heart. "Why are you helping me? I know you know who I am. We've sent you to live your final days in hell, why are you helping me?" I ask quietly. A smile makes his eyes glow, like a lighthouse in the night. "And who might 'we' be?" My lips press into a thin line, examining the man in quiet thanks. "No one. Thank you for your kind heart. On my blood, I thank you." He presses a hand on my cheek and I shrink away, uncomfortable with the physical contact. "A word of advice. Just count your breaths. Count up to a hundred and if it hasn't passed, count to two hundred." He pauses, pondering over whether he should admit something to me that he shouldn't. "My son used to suffer from what you have." Pain flickers across his face, and I no longer see his blue orbs. "What happened to him?" His face darkens for the first time, curling his hands into a fist. "They killed him." They killed him. My parents killed him.
Blayne is the first to greet me at the doors. He waves off the Sentinels that swarm me, seeing dirt on my arms and palms. "You alright, V? Where'd you go?" He brushes the hair out of my face and wraps his arms around me. "I just had to walk." He nods in understanding, grabbing my hand. "She's okay, Vera. She survived the bullet." My eyes widen in relief, releasing a knot of fear in me that I didn't even know was there.
"Do you want to see her?"
"Yes please."
"Okay, come with me, little duck."
Eve has natural pale skin, but her loss of blood makes her look terrifying. She no longer has her red lips, and her eyes are bloodshot. The constant tick of her EKG chips away at my remaining patience. "I have to go, Eve. I have to go pack," I say quietly. She wakes from her slumber, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She sits upright when my words finally click, and she looks at me as if I've grown a second head. "We can't just let this happen, Eve. This has gone too far. Don't look at me like that." She shakes her head quickly, begging me to stay. "Ilvera, you can't leave me here alone. The whole country is going to want answers," she protests. I plant a kiss on her forehead, giving her hand an apologetic squeeze. I've spent years building a wall to block out my emotions, and most of the time I'm successful in feeling nothing. This is not one of those times. I bump into Blayne on my way out and I grab his arm. "Talk to her, Blay Blay. She doesn't want us to leave." He glances at the door, squeezing my hand. We go our separate ways and a different cry reaches me in the corridor.
The curtains are drawn, drowning her in darkness. I poke my head through the doorway. She sits at the edge of her bed, head in her hands and shoulders shaking. "Athena? What is it, little one?" Her eyes meet mine, and they're rimmed with red, swollen with tears. An invisible hand squeezes around my heart until I think it'll explode inside of me. "Why do you guys have to go? Look at what's happened already! It's not safe!" I shake my head, running a hand over her hair. "We have to go, Athena. This can't happen again." I kiss the top of her black hair and smile when her arms hang around my neck. No matter what she's seen, no matter what we've been through since we were children, we will love each other until the end of time. That is something my parents will never take away from us.
The pack on my back weighs on me, along with the mixed emotions that are warring in my mind. "Be safe please." My oldest sister carries her IV on a pole, and I embrace her as softly as I can. Blayne ignores her on his way up the ramp into the cargo bay of our bird, his eyebrows narrowed in focus. I watch him with wide eyes and he winks at me with a grin on his way up. Evelyn glares at his back, watching him throw his bag into a storage compartment. "So you're just going to pretend I'm not here? You're not going to say goodbye?" Her words are like ice, sending shivers down your spine with a voice just like our mother's. Blayne turns around with a smile, pulling her into an embrace of his own when he reaches the bottom of the ramp. "I love you guys. Be safe, you anarchic twins." I lift two fingers to my brow in salute, and copy my brother's wink, making her smile. "I love you too," Blayne and I say in unison.
The jet is slick black, lit up from the inside with all the dials and levers. We call the jets 'birds', because of the long black wings that cut through the sky. With a bird, you can get to your destination in hours, minutes even, with its speed. The metal is shaped to precision, to make sure it can perform at its best. It has thirteen seats inside, with straps to keep you steady during landing. A lounge area is behind the pilot seats, round cushioned seats with a built-in table for any planning needs. I've been mesmerized by birds since the first time I've been on one.
Frustration burns at my cheeks and a bead of sweat trails down my neck. "Shit!" I yell. Blayne pats my hand to calm me. "You have to have patience and memorize the lights, and the location of the assigned buttons and dials. Think of it like a child, V. Patience." I scowl at him, clenching my fists so I don't break the dashboard. "I hate kids," I grumble. Blayne chuckles, running his fingers over his lips. My fist collides with his shoulder and he winces. "Okay, okay. Get up. I'll fly us the rest of the way." We switch seats and I watch the clouds float past the one hundred eighty-degree windshield. Blayne is kind enough to ignore my mumbling, flipping a few switches. "Stick to driving, little duck." I shove him in the shoulder, fighting a smile. Keep on, Blayne Oxuris. On my blood, I'll throw you out the damn window.
We land with a shudder, and it seems we've entered a storm. Heavy rain begins to pour and I sigh, cold and irritated. The patter of rain on my head seems to calm me despite my mood, and I lift my face to the sky, welcoming its tears. Blayne is yelling at me, but I can't hear him over the storm beating down on the runway. "What?!" I scream, competing with nature in a contest of how loud we can be. I win. "Get your backpack!" He points to the pack I left in the storage bin, and I cross my arms over my chest with a frown. He nods, rolling his eyes. He lifts them all in his hands, muscles pulsing and veins straining. If he's struggling, I can't tell. Rain finally hits him, his black hair matted against his forehead. When he enters the transport, I follow his lead, shutting out the storm with the door.
Excitement washes over me, making me shake with nerves. I love to travel, despite the reasons we do. The only luxury I have to travel is when we go on mission trips, and most of the time, I'm trying not to die. But, I still have fun nonetheless, especially with Blayne. The cities of Caskon are beautiful, with arcs flying into the sky in beautiful artistry. Blue paints the city of the sea, with banners of their own displaying my sister as the new queen of the Empire. Fisherwomen wheel pounds of fish in their carts, heading for the city's heart. We're headed to the outskirts of the city, towards the dock where our boat waits for us.
The boat is mildly large, the block letters O.E. SULTANIA, written on the side in black. Designs are carved into the metal, and the Oxurian flag whips in the winds of the storm. Our symbol is simple, three black swords crossing each other with a silver snake slithering through the gaps. I don't flinch when thunder cracks overhead, and I wonder if God is angry for us, our past, the attempt on my sister's life that happened just yesterday. The image of her on the ground sears in my head, branding itself in my memories to where I can never forget.
Our Sentinels stay behind, alert, and scan our surroundings for us. I enter the double steel doors with Blayne on my right, aware of the rain going mute behind us. The inside of the boat is warm, yet I shiver anyway. Male servants scramble to get our bags, lifting them off our shoulders and taking them to our rooms. Across from us is a grand staircase, following the gray trend of the rest of the water transport. The Sentinels finally walk in, positioning themselves wherever their assigned post is around the vessel. "Relax, V. You're so tense." He grabs a piece of cheese rolling on a cart, offering me a slice. This is a leisure ship I notice, but it was emptied for us and our presence. "I'm scared, Blay Blay," I whisper. He stops midchew, realizing how terrified I am, and grabs my hand. Where he's leading me, I don't know, but I follow him anyway. I will follow him anywhere, always.
We sit at a round table like the one on the bird, except yellow pillows and cushions support our aching bodies from the ride. Fatigue washes over me. I haven't slept since Eve got shot, I couldn't. I get nightmares frequently, and seeing the coronation over and over again makes them worse. B slaps the jack on top of the pile of cards and I smile. "Damn you. On my blood, I'm going to win." His eyes widen as he grins. My attention is pulled away from my brother as a Sentinel whispers in my ear. "Your majesty, we have a problem." Even as a son of the old throne, a brother of a newly inherited one, he still does not have the right to be respected. Blayne would know what to do with her information more than I would. I've learned everything from Blayne. He's the one who raised me, with the help of my uncle and Corbin. I didn't have parents who cared enough to raise me on their own. I frown, urging her to continue. "Rapid currents, prepare for a bumpy ride, Your Majesty." My eyes bore into Blayne's, warning him of approaching danger. "Dismissed." The guard bows her head towards me and me alone, walking away rapidly. "Rapid currents." My brother narrows his eyes, running through different scenarios in that genius brain of his. "It's expected, but I don't know. I have a bad feeling about this." He frowns, giving me a look. "On my blood, you have a bad feeling every time we travel, V." I mimic his frown without intention, placing the strands of hair in my face behind my ears. I fidget with a bracelet that I used to share with two brothers. I only share it with one now. That same brother is glaring at the corridor leading to the captains of the ship. "Stay here, little duck."
The minutes that pass feel like hours and the hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise. He should have been back by now. The lights flicker overhead and I glance at them, giving in to my instinct. The guards are gone now, I notice, and I'm left in the hall alone. I'm no longer scared, but dangerous, the soldier in me taking over. I grab a dagger from my pack, and I sigh. A knife can do as much damage as a gun, I think and repeat the words over and over in my head so I can slow my heartbeat. The lights go out just as I suspected they would. Red emergency lights douse me in an eerie glow as I tread slowly through the hallway, glaring at the shadows where someone might linger.
The body of a Sentinel stops me in my tracks, and I hide in the shadows, listening for anything out of the ordinary. Silence greets me, and I charge into the cockpit, only to find two more guards on the floor. A hand grips my arm tightly, but I don't scream. "They're on board," Blayne says in my ear, so quiet I fear I miss his words. I nod, though he can't see me and he signals for me to follow him. He sneaks down another corridor, silent and agile like a cat. Anyone else would lose him in seconds, but not me. They trained me well, my brothers.
A loud whine cuts through the deafening silence and the frame of the watercraft shakes beneath us. "I guess my instincts are right," I hiss. He ignores me, grabbing my arm and pressing us into the shadows of another lounge area. "We need to split up," he says quickly. I must be hearing things. I wait for him to explain, and he does. "I'll head to the storage compartment, and salvage what weapons I can from what we brought. You head to the doors and wait for me. I'll meet you there." I shake my head in protest. "No. Blayne, I know the layout of the boat better. I studied it before I got here." My words marinate in the air, driving me mad. "On my blood, Ilvera, we have no time to argue." I run my tongue over my dry lips, adrenaline rushing in my veins. "You're right, we don't. You know I'm right, Blay Blay." He growls in frustration, placing a chaste kiss on my forehead. "You die, and I'll kill you myself. Take my gun." We switch weapons, and I take one last glance at my brother's retreating form, before taking off.
I don't bother to quiet my footsteps, simply because I don't care. I have more important things to worry about. An alarm started blaring a few minutes ago but I paid no attention. My first initiative is getting to the base level, grabbing the things we need, and leaving before anyone can stop me. I hope no one will stop me. My past haunts me with faces I've killed already. They help with my nightmares, those people, and I can only hope I don't add more to the list.
The boat shudders beneath me, and I can't stop myself from tripping when it jerks to the side. The metal walls cut into my skin and I suck in a breath to stop myself from wincing. Just one more level, Ilvera. One more. I gather up my strength, pushing myself back up and down a flight of stairs, into the bottom basin of the water transport. "By my blood, is this happening," I whisper in awe. My thighs hit cold, salty water, and icy fingers trail down my spine. I guess there's a certain beauty to a boat sinking, the water spurting in through an intentional cut at the bottom of the room, in the shape of a square. The hole is the size of my torso, so small it looks as if it couldn't do any damage at all. Looks can deceive, I remind myself. The strong current sucks me down, along with the bags holding our weapons and I scream, my head slamming against the metal steps. My fingers feel for the grated stairs to no avail. My efforts are in vain.
The salt pricks at my eyes and I fumble with the edge of the makeshift moonpool, in one last attempt to not get dragged into the dark, deep blue. I gasp in as much air as I can, the water sucking me down with a sharp tug. A cut stings across my palm but that is not my worry. My lungs burn like they're being set on fire. How ironic. Even now, when I'm about to die, I find it in me to joke. Pieces of the boat rock around me, and black edges around my vision. I'm whipped around in the chaos until all I see are stars. The stars disappear then too. All I'm left with is a darkness that suffocates me along with the sea, bound to my mind and my body, attacking me until I feel nothing at all.