Kelvin
As I paced back and forth in the dimly lit cell, the walls seemed to close in on me, suffocating me with their oppressive presence. The straw strewn across the cold stone floor offered little respite, its rough texture scratching against my skin as I moved restlessly.
I yearned for freedom, for the taste of crisp winter air on my lips, for the exhilaration of running through the snow-covered fields beyond these prison walls. I longed to feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins as I beat the punching bag in the army's recreational arena back in Imperia, each strike a release of pent-up frustration and anger.
But here, confined within these stone walls, such simple pleasures were nothing but distant memories, taunting me with their absence. I lay on the straw, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, each one a reminder of the limitations of my imprisonment.
Counting sheep, a futile attempt to lull myself to sleep, only served to heighten my restlessness. I closed my eyes, imagining the sound of my fists pounding against the heavy bag, the rhythmic thud reverberating through the air like a heartbeat.
I longed to break free from this confinement, to breathe in the fresh air and feel the sun on my face once more. But for now, all I could do was wait, trapped in this endless cycle of longing and frustration, counting the hours until I could escape the suffocating embrace of my cell.
As I struggled to maintain my focus, the relentless drip of water echoed through the confines of the prison, its rhythmic cadence a stark reminder of the passage of time. Minutes blurred into hours, each moment stretching on endlessly as I fought to keep track of the passing time.
But despite my best efforts, the minutes seemed to slip through my fingers like grains of sand, leaving me disoriented and adrift in a sea of uncertainty. How long had I been confined within these walls? Days? Weeks? The question lingered in the back of my mind like a persistent whisper, its answer elusive and maddeningly out of reach.
As exhaustion threatened to pull me into the depths of sleep, a sudden jolt of sound shattered the silence of the cell, ripping me from the edge of oblivion. My heart pounded in my chest as a voice, piercing the stillness of the solitary cell I was in.
Luca.
"Let me out of here!" His words reverberated through the stone walls, carrying with them a sense of urgency and desperation that sent a chill down my spine. I could hear the frustration and fear in his voice, the sound of his fists pounding against the unforgiving surface of his own cell door.
My brows furrowed in worry as I listened to Luca's pleas, his cries echoing through the floor of the prison-like a haunting refrain. The realization hit me like a physical blow— if even Luca, the strongest warrior I knew, was beginning to succumb to the madness of this place, what hope did the rest of us have?
The possibility of being condemned to a lifetime of imprisonment in the dark, suffocating depths of the psycho cells sent a shiver down my spine. Had Morgana and Dimitri orchestrated this cruel fate for us all along? The thought gnawed at the edges of my mind, filling me with a sense of dread and unease.
But as terrifying as the prospect of spending the rest of my days in this prison was, it paled in comparison to the alternative—being subjected to the brutal and torturous execution methods favored by those in power. The image of being hung, drawn, and quartered alive sent a chill coursing through my veins, a reminder of the ruthless cruelty of those who held sway over our fate.
I couldn't bear the thought of spending eternity in this hellish prison, cut off from the world and the people I loved. What if I never saw Aurora again, never felt the warmth of her touch or the light in her eyes? The mere thought of her suffering a fate similar to ours filled me with a sense of desperate urgency. as I pondered our dire situation, a sense of hopelessness threatened to overwhelm me.
I have to get us out of here... but how?
I tried my best to keep the hope alight within my heart, but as the hours dragged on and Luca's voice became hoarse and slowly faded into silence... I knew I'd have to accept the fact that we were doomed.
***
I blinked my eyes open to the familiar sound of the cell door creaking, and I quickly stood up, steeling myself for whatever awaited beyond its confines. Dimitri, resplendent in his princely attire, greeted me with a curt nod as he proceeded to tie me up once again, leading me out of the prison and into the main castle. We traversed the corridors in silence until we reached the imposing doors of the Great Hall.
Inside, I caught sight of Luca, his appearance ragged and worn, as though he had endured a brutal ordeal.
Did he try killing himself? Concern gnawed at me and our eyes met briefly, but I turned my gaze forward as Dimitri cleared his throat.
"Her excellency, Morgana, the highest witch queen, and Raven's mistress!" A guard announced her arrival, and the wicked Morgana swept into the room with an air of malevolence. Was that a royal dress she wore? Despite her sinister presence, I noted a slight aging in her features, a hint that perhaps the magic sustaining her youth was beginning to wane.
"Hello, Kelvin and Luca," she greeted us with a smirk dripping with malice. "I trust you've enjoyed your accommodations?" Her words sent a shiver down my spine, the underlying threat all too clear.
"Kelvin, since I am a merciful ruler I wanted to offer you the chance of becoming one of us one last time before I decide anything." Luca shot me a look, and I sighed.
"As I told you before, Morgana, I will not betray the Queen."
"Again," she said with an evil chuckle, and I winced.
"What is she talking about?" Luca whispered.
"I'll explain it later if there is a later." I couldn't help but yelp as Dimitri forcibly pushed my head down. His fingers dug into my skull as if he was purposefully trying to hurt me.
"It's your last chance, Kelvin; I wouldn't take that so lightly..." Morgana probed.
"No, thank you..." I replied through gritted teeth, relief flooding through me as Dimitri finally released his hold.
"Very well then, since you will not yield, I will have no choice but to execute you both for rebelling against King Ignatius of Juvelia." She rubbed her forefinger and thumb together as she continued. "You both will be tied to a scaffold and you will remain there for the span of three days. If the Princess is to show her face and surrender, then your lives will be spared. But if she doesn't, you will be burned at the stake."
"Three days?" Luca's groan mirrored the sinking feeling in my gut.
"Did I mention you won't be given any food or water?" Morgana added with a twisted grin as though she was relishing our suffering. My stomach churned at the thought, already weakened from the meager prison rations we had endured. A thought struck me then; perhaps I could buy us time.
"Dimitri, may we be granted one last request?" I interjected, seizing the opportunity to plead for a semblance of mercy amidst the looming threat of our impending execution. He thought for a moment, then nodded.
"I don't see why not, Mother?" Morgana narrowed her eyes for a moment, then curled her nose.
"Very well, what is your request?"
"A bath!" Luca blurted out. I thought for a moment before finally speaking.
"Before we are sent to the scaffolding baths, we need a change of clothes, a chance to make our last confessions, and dinner," Morgana huffed, but Dimitri piped up.
"I think that's a wonderful idea; it will show the people witnessing the execution that we aren't barbarians and that we have some human decency." Morgana contemplated the idea for a moment, then heaved a sigh.
"Your excellency, a message from Ignatius!" one of the guards called out from the other end of the room. Morgana turned to him, nodded, and then faced Dimitri again.
"Do what you wish, Dimitri, but don't let them out of your sight, or there will be hell to pay for it." With that, she turned on her heel and left.
***
For the rest of the day, we savored our final request: luxuriating in a much-needed bath, donning fresh, clean clothes, and relishing a fleeting moment of freedom before we were to face the scaffold for our execution. It provided a small comfort amidst the looming threat of our impending demise. As the hours slipped by, Dimitri entered the room where Luca and I had been confined under "house arrest."
"It's time for dinner." He said with a bleak look in his eye.
Despite the meal that would soon lay before us, I knew we were almost on the brink of our doom. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the polished wooden table, illuminating the room with a warm, albeit somber, glow. The scent of a hearty meal filled the air, comforting yet tinged with a bittersweet edge. We exchanged solemn glances, each silently grappling with the gravity of our situation. Despite the facade of normalcy, there was an unspoken understanding between us that this would likely be our last supper together. As we took our seats, the clinking of cutlery against fine cups and plates echoed in the hushed atmosphere, a stark reminder of the solemnity of the occasion. As Morgana settled into her seat at the table, her smug tone filled the room.
"I think you were right to take the humanitarian route, Dimitri; I'm proud of you," Morgana remarked, her words dripping with satisfaction. Despite the weight of our impending fate, we gathered around the table in somber silence, the only sound the clinking of silverware against plates. Dimitri and Morgana engaged in conversation about the ongoing battle at the border, discussing the destruction wrought upon Petrov's estate. As the reality of Petrov's loss sunk in, I couldn't help but wince, a pang of sympathy tugging at my heartstrings. His childhood home, the castle where he had grown up, now lay in ruins, the harsh realities of war sinking in.
"I've sent out your messages. By tomorrow, the whole peninsula will be aware that Lord Fitzgilbert and the self-proclaimed Regent of Juvelia are in our custody." Dimitri said lowly to Morgana.
"Good, I want Aurora back in my custody. The possibilities Dimitri..." She cleared her throat. "You'll see what I mean when we have her in the palm of our hands." Dimitri nodded slowly and returned to his food.
As we sat in the midst of our solemn meal, the air thick with tension and uncertainty, a sudden interruption shattered the quietude. One of the guards, standing at attention by the doorway, cleared his throat before announcing the unexpected arrival.
"Your Majesty, a Kai-gon guest has arrived to see you," he declared, his voice echoing through the room. Could it be one of our people or someone completely different?
Moments later, the Kai-gon guest made her entrance, her presence commanding attention as she stepped gracefully into the room. Juljá, her dignified bearing a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere, approached Morgana with measured steps. With a respectful bow, she greeted the witch queen before stating her purpose.
"You're excellency." Juljá began, her voice carrying a hint of formality tempered by a genuine warmth. "I come bearing news on behalf of my people." Morgana regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, her piercing gaze probing Juljá's demeanor for any hint of deceit.
"And what news do you bring, Kai-gon?" Morgana inquired.
"If peace is not the ultimate goal of this campaign, then I'm afraid, Your Excellency, that the Kai-gons will not stand with you when you ask for help."
"Of course, peace is the ultimate goal; tell me more about what your people have to offer." Juljá nodded.
"If it pleases your excellencies, I'd like to give you a prophecy."
"About?" Morgana probed.
"About your excellencies future of course." Morgana nodded.
"Go ahead, child." In the hushed chamber, Juljá's voice took on a mystical cadence as she began to recite the prophecy.
"In the frost of icy eyes and in the tangle of untamable hair, a ruler shall emerge. None will dare to challenge her, for she runs faster than the wind and sings sweeter than the nightingale. She will command the northern seas with a power unmatched and a spirit untamed." Morgana blushed, and her eyes flickered with recognition as if the words flattered her.
"Continue," Morgana urged, her voice tinged with intrigue and apprehension. Juljá obliged, her words weaving a tapestry of fate that seemed to dance on the edge of comprehension and mystery.
"In the heart of the storm, she'll find her crown, and in the depths of despair, she'll forge her throne. With each step, she'll carve her legacy in the annals of time, a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness. Her voice will ring true, a melody of courage and defiance that will echo through the ages. She will be a Queen among the Kings." I inhaled, finally piecing it together; Juljá was referring to Aurora. We made eye contact, and I searched her gaze.
Aurora has to be alive. I refrained from smiling, not wanting to provoke Dimitri or Morgana. Then Juljá looked at Luca, and for a moment, they stared at each other. Were they eye-kissing?
"Who is it you speak of in such high regard?" Morgana's steely eyes bore into Juljá's, and I saw Luca swallow out of the corner of my eye. Juljá met Morgana's gaze again.
"The Princess Aurora, daughter of Nicolas II." Before Morgana could reply, Juljá turned on her heels and walked out of the room. Morgana stood up, fury burning in her gaze.
"Tie them up and get them up on that scaffold, now!"
As we were led away, I couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that hung over us like a dark cloud. Juljá's prophecy had unveiled a truth we dared not ignore. Aurora had to be alive and we were about to witness things go down.
***
As we stood bound to the scaffold, surrounded by a heavy guard, the weight of our impending death hung thick in the air. I stole a glance at Luca, his rugged features etched with resignation and defiance in equal measure. It was now, or never, I realized, the confession I had kept buried deep within me, yearning to break free.
"Luca," I began, my voice barely above a whisper amidst the tension that enveloped us, "there's something I need to tell you." His gaze met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of curiosity mingled with apprehension in his eyes.
"What is it, Kelvin?" he asked, his voice tinged with weary anticipation. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I forged ahead, knowing that this revelation could change everything.
"I... I'm in love with Aurora," I confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush as the weight of my confession lifted from my shoulders. For a moment, Luca's expression remained unreadable, his eyes searching mine for any trace of deception. Then, slowly, understanding dawned in his gaze, tempered by a hint of resignation.
"I see," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the muted sounds of the surrounding guards. Luca's sudden kick caught me off guard, a sharp jolt of pain radiating from my shin as I staggered backward. The shock of his action mingled with the ache in my leg.
"What was that for?"
"The rumors were true, weren't they?" His tone was edged with accusation. I winced, both from the throbbing pain in my leg and the weight of his words.
"Well, yes and no, it's complicated." He gave me a look that said I'm not buying it and I heaved a sigh. "I would never hurt your sister;" Those words weren't helping either as he glared at me. "What does that matter now? We're about to die!" Luca's expression softened slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features before he averted his gaze.
"It matters, Kelvin," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the din of our surroundings. "It matters more than you know. Her reputation is constantly on the line." I nodded in understanding.
"I promise I didn't touch her."
Not in real life, anyway...
Do kisses count, though? Angel Kelvin asked as he lounged on my shoulder again.
"Shut up!" Luca furrowed his brows at my outburst, and I grinned awkwardly. "My brain, it won't shut up." His gaze softened again, and he heaved a sigh.
"I should have known, the way she defended you..." I winced.
"That's the thing I don't know if she reciprocates yet. We haven't had a chance to address the whole thing." Luca nodded, and we stood there in silence as we both processed the moment.
"If we live through this, I'm killing you." Was that a ghost of a smirk on his face? I couldn't tell, but I couldn't help but stifle a laugh.
"Okay."