When I made it back to the entrance of the cave, I found that the tempesta was already waiting for me, shifting restlessly back and forth.
Its striking purple eyes flashed with white lights as they flickered back and forth between me and the darkness beyond, asking a silent question that I refused to answer.
I glared at it, feeling my red eyes burning brightly as I channeled all my hate at the foul creature.
As if sensing my mood, it moved back a little, though I didn't sense any kind of remorse in its shifting features.
The storm spirit began moving, not uttering as much as a single word to me as it floated toward the forest in the distance, Agora hiding somewhere behind the tall dark trees.
And so, I followed, trudging silently through the billowing fields, watching with distaste as the tall grass and flowers in between the stalks of wheat whipped wildly back and forth as the tempesta passed them.
Leaving behind San.
Leaving behind the others as I walked towards what was probably certain death despite Daios' promises.
The day was nearing its end, the sun hanging much lower in the sky than it had done when we arrived by The Source of Iseda.
It was starting to get dark, and my surroundings quickly began to blur together into masses of darkness as the shadows grew taller and taller with every last breath of the crescent sun.
I glanced back over my shoulder.
One last look, I told myself, though I knew too well that it was a lie.
I couldn't see the cave anymore.
I couldn't see San anymore.
But I knew that he was still there somewhere, hidden somewhere deep in the shadows where I hoped he would be safe until I was long gone.
He was still here along with the others, I thought, feeling my heart ache at the thought. Right here with me.
Finally, darkness fell along with the beautiful blanket of glinting stars that was thrown across the vast sky every time night decided to visit the Kingdom of Avalon.
I kept walking, numbly, for what felt like hours, looking down at my feet and focusing on the trail below me.
It was only as a loud whoosh cut through the silent night air that I looked back up, fear washing over me as I realized that the tempesta was gone.
Something was wrong, I thought, whipping my head around in a desperate attempt to see where the storm spirit had gone, but there was no sign of the tempesta anywhere.
And then everything went dark.
I woke up with a gasp, sitting straight up in the marvelous bed, feeling the soft mattress bounce slightly at the movement.
The room was big, filled to the brim with ornate decorations on the walls, gold-framed pictures, and beautiful oil paintings, lavish furniture, and plush blankets on the floor.
I turned my head to one of the many big windows, watching as the delicate curtains fluttered in the wind.
It was morning.
7 days had passed. A week.
Today was the deadline.
I crawled backwards, stopping when my back hit the sturdy wooden frame of the headboard, furrowing my brows at the window.
The curtains were fluttering a lot, I realized, almost too much.
Almost as if a storm was raging just outside, somehow silent but definitely still strong.
My eyes widened, and I cursed myself for being so slow.
I was in the palace. The Royal Palace, hence the reason why the room had seemed familiar.
This was my room.
I flew out of bed, heading directly for the main door.
I had a bad feeling before I even put my hand on the handle, but I had to try nonetheless.
I had to.
My hand curled around the golden door handle, pulling at it, but nothing happened.
The door didn't no matter how much strength I used.
I huffed in frustration, running my hands through my hair as I turned toward the other side of the room, quickly making my way over to the other door.
Of course, it was also locked.
I rushed over to the window, looking out over the windowsill and into the city below, my hair billowing in the harsh wind as I stared into the streets beneath the palace.
It was completely different, being in the middle of Agora, watching it crumble, than it had been yesterday when the nine of us had stood on the hill outside of the capital.
Men in black were still everywhere, mercilessly patrolling the streets, tempestas flying overhead, and spying down on any living creature that dared make its way outside.
I squinted my eyes, trying my best to make out The Source of Iseda in the distance, but I knew it was a long shot.
I prayed that the others were okay. They had to be.
"But what about me?" I mumbled to myself, walking back into the room as I looked at my surroundings.
"What am I supposed to do, then?"
There were no other exits as far as I knew, and I had spent my entire childhood here, growing up in this room. But-
I froze as I suddenly caught a glimpse of myself in one of the golden mirrors that were hung on the wall next to the bed.
I looked like a wild animal.
That was the first thought that came to me.
My eyes were red which was a given, of course, but the glowing crimson colour was more violent than ever.
It was a stark contrast to the gown that hung next to the mirror, beckoning me forward yet pushing me back at the same time. I scoffed.
"He can't be serious," I said, stepping a little closer to the dress and reaching out to touch the soft fabric of the skirt; dark blue and grey like a storm.
Like Daios.
Suddenly, memories and flashes of my coronation came crashing down on me, and I stepped even closer to the gown as I felt the anger inside me grow the more I looked at it.
I also had a dress back then, a beautiful gown, red and glowing like my element.
Now this villain was trying to dress me like his own nature, in his own colours.
I was trapped here.
Like something he owned and controlled. Like his element.
And he wanted to show me just that.
Somehow, I knew that I wasn't getting out of this room before I put on the dress, but that didn't stop me from complaining from start to finish, cursing out the man in my head every step of the way.
I definitely struggled more than necessary, I realized afterwards, having been angrily tugging at the fabric in order to get it over my head.
I looked at myself in the mirror, wanting to cry.
The gown was beautiful, the skirt light and flowy, looking as soft as a cloud, yet not at all peaceful because of the dark colours swirling in and out of each other in the fabric.
The top was decorated with intricate embroidery and small gemstones that glinted in the flickering lights from the torches on the walls, like lightning and thunder.
And yet, it felt so wrong.
It looked so wrong.
Everything about it was so incredibly wrong.
A moment passed, and the door behind me finally sprang open. I whipped around, my heart hammering, expecting so see someone in the doorway.
But it was empty.
And so was the hallway.
I stood hesitantly in the door for a moment, wanting to be completely sure, but there wasn't a single guard or storm spirit in sight.
It didn't make me any less nervous, though.
I moved silently through the palace, knowing the place by heart, occasionally peeking into some of the rooms, getting increasingly sad at the sight that I was met with.
Everything was familiar, the furniture, pictures, mirrors, and carpets exactly where they had always been.
But the palace was empty, not a single sign of human life anywhere.
Not a single sign of the fight that had taken place weeks before.
The smell of food was what kept me going despite the growing feeling of uneasiness in my stomach that told me it was a bad sign.
I knew where I was going, my dress billowing behind me as I began to walk faster, faster, faster, before coming to an abrupt halt in front of a massive oak door.
I stared down at the handle, hesitating for a moment before finally pushing the door open, finding myself peeking into the dining room.
The familiar long table was filled to the brim with so much food that it almost made me sick.
Silver platters nearly spilled over with fresh fruits, steaming vegetables, and meat, bowls were filled to the brim with sauces, and soups, goblets with wine, and whole birds rested on nests of potatoes and apples, steaming and glistening in the light from the candles on the table.
My eyes traveled further and further up the table, taking in as much as possible before coming to a stop.
My heart sank.
There he was, looking like he was sitting in state, resting comfortably in the tall chair by the end of the table.
My father's chair.
His black fedora lay on the table next to him, and his mask was nowhere to be seen either, I realized.
This was the first time I truly saw his face.
He cocked his head to the side, furrowing a perfect brow as he took me in, those unnatural eyes of his swirling with all the colours of a thunderstorm.
He was wickedly handsome.
He was-
"My dear princess," Daios said, shaking me out of my thoughts. "Have a seat."
His voice was deep and rumbling like thunder, cutting through the silent air like a knife.
I stood still for a moment, wanting more than anything to just back away, to press myself against the wall and become one with it, to be small enough to flee his strong gaze.
He motioned for the chair next to him, and I struggled to swallow the lump of nervousness and fear that had gotten stuck in my throat.
I did as he told me.
He looked calm and unfazed as I moved closer, as if he wasn't currently in the middle of destroying my beloved kingdom.
As if he hadn't been terrorizing my people for weeks.
As if he hadn't killed my mother and done who knows what to my poor father.
I tried to hide my shaking hands as I sat down, leaving a chair between us in order to give myself some space to breathe.
I reached out for a cup of water, my throat dry, though I winced back as Daios reached out his knife in my direction, spilling the liquid on the table.
He stopped, turning to look at me, his unnaturally striking purple and white eyes looking at me with a mix of emotions I couldn't make out.
He said nothing, piling a bunch of food onto my plate as I stared at him in confusion, too scared to object.
"Eat," Daios said, more like an order than a suggestion.
I hesitated, looking uncomfortably at the mountain of food in front of me but my hunger finally got the better of me, and I carefully took a bite before, checking, making sure, before I began to eat.
"I'm happy to see that you kept the deadline," Daios said, and as soon as the words slipped past his lips, I froze, my mouth filled to the brim with food.
I didn't look at him. I didn't even make a sound.
"I'm used to things turning out the way I want them to," he continued, still looking unfazed as he sipped his glass of wine.
"Your friends were lucky that you finally came to your senses."
I stopped eating, locking eyes with him as I swallowed the rest of the food, feeling my hands begin to shake again.
My inner fire flared up as a wave of anger washed over me, and I already knew that my eyes were glowing red as I tried to get my head around the words that he had just said.
"Lucky?" I hissed, my voice shaky and filled with rage.
Who did he think he was? I thought to myself, trying my best to push down the sudden urge to kill him right then and there.
"Lucky, you say?"
A/N:
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