Chapter 15 Misconceptions
Chapter fifteen
Misconceptions
The Prince
Ipace my room. This is all going to shit.
Not only has the king moved up the wedding date allowing me far less time, but Alaceandra is nothing like I thought she would be.
My fault for underestimating the women of Tikilium but when father spoke of them, he always described them as weak and easily swayed.
He claimed Tikilium only gained power due to age old fears and they have grown soft since the wars, which is why he was marrying me off to the daughter of the king.
I don’t know why in all the lands of Ptheryeth I would trust his judgment on anything, especially women, but here I am.
Helomasi used to be a force, taking over half of Ptheryeth, but due to a plague overtaking our lands to the south, we now only maintain less than a quarter of our kingdom.
The dead lands are quickly encroaching on our territory and eventually we will fall prey to them.
That is, unless we can find a cure to fix the lands or more lands to flee to.
My father, in all his righteousness proclaimed he will not be one to flee, instead he plans to take the rest of the kingdoms by force, but he needs more land and forces to start a war hence the alliance.
Or at least that is what he always said.
I know there is more to his plans with King Nikoli’s daughter than he is sharing with me.
I read a prophecy once before, one about a girl who can bring death and destruction to the lands of Ptheryeth or peace depending on how she is nurtured by those around her.
If I am correct in my assumptions, Alaceandra is at the center of it.
She has to be. It is out of the ordinary for a woman her age to not have powers yet.
Their delay must mean that there is more at stake for her.
Which means, depending on how the cards fall, she could bring the ruin of us all and yet— I run my fingers through my hair—and yet it seems she is ignorant of all this.
I, myself, have always been more interested in curing the land.
The feeling of nature around me has always been a solace in my whirlwind of thoughts.
I would have gone mad if I did not find my powers so early on in childhood.
I moved my first strands of grass at ten years old, heard the first conversation whispered to me through the wind only a couple months after, and I have fallen in love with every shade and color the world provided me since.
I thought it would be the only thing that would ever quiet my thoughts.
That was until I met the little dove. When she is around the world sinks into a low buzz, the castle's conversations, misdeeds and schemes become only background music to her voice's delicate symphony.
When we touch my mind empties. It is the most peace I have ever felt and yet, I know I will lose it.
I hate her for it. I hate that she has shown me peace that I cannot maintain.
I hate the fact that she cannot live in this world if she chooses the wrong choice when the time comes.
I hate, maybe most of all, that I know my father needs her to choose wrong.
I walk by my reflection and let out a disappointed huff.
I must get close to her and manipulate her into showing me her abilities so that I can know for sure if she is the one the prophecy speaks of.
I must torture myself with knowing that whatever peace she may bring me may need to disappear forever should my father succeed and I will be at the center of it, but “Can I really manipulate an innocent? Am I destined to be no better than my father?” I whisper.
I quickly jerk my head away and massage my temples.
The racing of my mind is getting out of control and far too loud.
I allow my mind to picture her beautiful, delicate face.
Her long eyelashes and captivating eyes.
I am launched back into the memory of lunch today.
How terrified she looked at my father's promises of death to her guards and how helpless I was to help her.
I wonder about her real relationship to them.
They seem to be much closer than any guard to lady relationship I have ever come across.
The thought does not bother me. I know they are a much better option for her if she were to have them, especially with what I have planned.
Will they help or hinder me? They must have cards up their own sleeves, but what are they?
Since they have arrived, I have been watching the trio more than I have ever watched anyone.
The more I see of them the more I want to know.
I sit on a large chair, fingers clawing into my hair.
If only I could have stood up to my father so I would never have to see that look on her face again, but I cannot.
Not now. The king’s control over me makes me want to vomit.
With one tiny squeeze of his fist around that sculpture he keeps in his pocket, I am filled with such an overwhelming pain I can barely breathe.
The only way to get away from this control is distance but my father is quick to ensure the servants always keep me on castle grounds.
Therefore, all I can do is plan, and wait for the perfect opportunity.
Until then... I rub the back of my neck.
.. I need to talk to Alaceandra. If not only to patch up the damage lunch has done, but also, to quiet my mind.
I check the time. It is a little past midnight.
Has so much time already passed? I take out a pen and some paper and write her a note asking to speak with her tomorrow morning before breakfast. Tucking the piece of paper into my pocket, I head next door.
I hope she has not quite drifted off to sleep yet.
I open my door quietly to knock on Alaceandra’s door when I spot some movement from the corner of my eye.
Is that...? It is. Alaceandra and those two guards.
What were their names? Fa...dris? And Cre.
..door? Something like that. They are sticking to the sides of the walls and travelling up the hall.
I follow slowly behind them. Using a small bit of magic, I test the air, then smile- impressed.
It seems one of them is advanced enough in their magic they can block the sound from the spy ware, but I do not sense anything hiding them from the spyglass.
They must not know it is present. Curious, I urge the wind to cover the spyglass with the pink blossoms I have had a servant conveniently place beside each camera.
Since the spyglasses can only observe, not record, no one should become suspicious of the leaves fluttering.
It should only look as if a stray breeze caused the petals to rustle and block the glasses for a couple of seconds.
They make it to a bookcase, which they pull a blue book from causing the whole structure to pop open.
My eyes widen. How was I not aware of this passage?
I melt into the opening along with them before the bookcase closes with a soft sound.
Fadres turns back, glancing down the stone corridor and I do my best to hide against the walls.
After a moment, he turns back and they continue making their way down the damp path.
I conceal myself within the bush guarding this passage’s entrance, recognizing the dead lands on the other side.
Alaceandra approaches the rocks and I stare in wonder as they light up with a soft red glow when she places her hand against one of the stones.
They come to light in a row leading them down a pathway.
They follow the lights and I follow them, sticking closely to the shadows and covering our tracks so we are not spotted by any of the spies on the perimeter of the property.
What are they planning? I know very well the danger lying within the dead lands.
The creatures living there are unruly, murderous and very loyal to their newfound king.
The portal rarely allows newcomers through, and when it does it often leads to their death.
Or that is what we have always assumed. No one has ever made it back from being sucked into the dead lands.
Unfortunately, the rocks path seems to go directly to the deadly opening in the rocks.
The portal has shown itself. I start to reveal myself to the trio, hoping to warn them away from the void leading to the dark kingdom, when Alaceandra walks forward to reach for something near the entrance.
A whooshing noise comes from the rocks and suddenly she is sucked into the void.
Credour shouts and races after her their fingers brushing before he too is pushed into the opening, the rocks glow a deeper red as they enter.
Fadres, the furthest away from the portal entrance, goes racing after them and finds himself jerked towards the entrance but the rocks are not glowing red, instead a white light permeates.
He resists the pull, grabbing hold of a boulder to stay grounded.
Fuck, I should not have hesitated so long.
There is no telling where in the dark lands one may end up.
The only guarantee it gives is those who enter the portal together will find one another.
Seeing as Credour and Alaceandra were making contact upon entering I am confident Alaceandra will at least have one of her guard dogs, but the other one looks to be entering on his own.
This can be the opportunity to free myself from my father.
Alaceandra’s protector is almost sure to die in the dead lands without guidance.
Fadres’ hand slips on the boulder and he is hurtled towards the portal entrance.
I run towards the cavern and throw myself through, my hand barely making contact with Fadres’ ankle before it fully disappears.
I sense him go limp from the force of the magic choking the air around us.
Although we are being thrown to Ptheryeth knows where, I smile because I know we will at least for a time be free.
I will find out if Alaceandra is the prophecy’s subject and the meaning that holds for her future.
If in the meantime she can quiet the endless hum of my mind?
I smile again letting the portals magic sweep over me.
That is fine by me. Wherever she leads me, I will, of course, follow.