Alastor's dust-coated hair was tangled and messy, and his black doublet was stained with ash and blood. His high collar camisole was withering at the edges. Xavier was growing tired; they'd been traveling without stopping for three days. Alastor's eyes were tired and dark, and his body began to grow weaker by the day. Finally, Alastor reached the top of a cliff that looked over a hidden kingdom beyond the trees. He could see the sunset shining onto the golden palace that towered above the trees.
"Virellion," Alastor mumbled under his breath, scanning the territory from above.
He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw when he imagined Elysium trapped with Blaise while he did God knows what to her. He snapped Xavier's reins and galloped down the hill, the wind stinging his face. Alastor paused far enough from the gates to remain unseen while he dismounted Xavier, resting his hand on the handle of his sword. He took a deep breath before he pulled his hooded cloak over his head and crept towards the gates. Scanning for some sort of way into the kingdom, Alastor's finally locked on an entrance; Only, it had one guard stationed in front of it. Alastor kept his body low while he slowly crouched towards the entrance. He came to a sharp halt when he heard the guard yell over ot him.
"Stop right there!" The guard ordered.
Alastor straightened, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked the guard up and down, then gave an unimpressed look.
"This is it?" He vaguely gestured. "This is the great defense?"
The guard turned his spear's blade towards Alastor's chest.
"State your name!" He said shakily.
Alastor tilted his head, amused.
"You already know it."
The guard froze, eyes widening.
"No…" he murmured.
"Say it," Alastor said in a condescending voice.
The guard's eyes darted around while he gripped his spear harder. He gulped, staying silent.
"Come on," Alastor tempted him. "I like hearing it."
The guard began to tremble, his legs shaking.
"Alastor…" His voice broke.
Alastor's mouth curved, his eyes fiery with excitement. The muscles on his shoulders tensed while he gripped the hilt of his sword.
"Good," He said, inching closer to the guard. "Now at least one of us won't die confused."
Alastor quickly drew his sword and swiftly swept the blade through the guard's throat; Blood splattered across the grass while a strand of tendons held his head to his neck. When Alastor dropped the head, it broke from the tendons and rolled over to him, before he stopped it with his foot, peering down at the severed head. He quietly stripped the guard of his golden hooded cloak and buttoned it around himself, pulling the hood over his head. Now disguised, Alastor carefully trailed down the pathways, hiding in the shadows from the other guards. His breath caught when he spotted the golden palace through the trees. He quickened his pace, desperate to get there as soon as possible. Heart racing, Alastor finally circled to the backside of the palace. His eyes scanned the architecture while he looked for some sort of way inside. Alastor was barely holding it together; he was running on fumes now to keep himself awake.
Alastor finally spotted a window on the second floor. He tried to get creative, tossing around logs and wooden planks to build a ladder. Alastor built himself a platform high enough off the ground for him to jump. However, it was a risky situation; if he pissed the thin tree branch that loomed right next to the window, he'd plummet down and blow his cover. Wiping his sweaty palms on his sides, he lowered before using all the force in his legs to jump towards the branch. His fingertips were inches from the branch while he focused deeply, wrapping his fingers around the branch right in the nick of time. His legs dangled beneath him while he hoisted himself up onto the branch, clinging to the wood to keep his balance. Luckily, the window was cracked open. Alastor cautiously peered into the window. He pressed his ear closer to the glass, trying to make out the low voices he heard from inside the room. Then, he froze.
Stepping into view, Elysium, who looked to be distressed, angrily crossed her arms over her chest. Alastor barely recognized her; she looked like a different person. Her curled hair fell over her shoulders, topped with a headchain that held golden droplets. A golden amulet rested against her bare chest. Her gold-lined maroon gown dove down her chest into a V-neck, exposing the tops of her breasts. A gold-lined ruby connected the front of the dress below her breasts, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and draping red silk that fell to her sun-kissed heels. Then, Alastor's fear hardened to anger; Blaise stepped into frame with a mischievous grin on his face. Alastor clenched his jaw.
"You're thinking too loudly again," Blaise said, circling her.
Elysium's tired eyes looked up to Blaise.
"Then stop giving me reasons to." She replied dryly.
Elysium rubbed her arm with her hand, looking back down to the floor. Blaise casually leaned against the mantle across the room, hungrily staring at her. He pressed a glass of wine to his lips.
"You had reasons long before me," he sighed, setting down the glass.
He paused for a moment to let his words sink in before speaking again. He smirked.
"He was one of them, wasn't he?"
The manipulation in Blaise's voice was uncanny; he didn't even try to hide his narcissism. Elysium's eyes darted back to Blaise while she straightened, growing more irritated. Blaise enjoyed nothing more than pushing people's buttons, then watching them crack. Getting a rise out of people was more satisfying to him than any sort of fight could offer.
"Don't talk about him." Elysium snapped.
That perked Blaise's ear up; he could smell her rising anger like a dog. His eyes lit up with excitement while he neared her; he knew exactly how to break her.
"Why? Does it hurt?" He inched even closer to her, his troublesome eyes looking into hers.
"Or are you finally starting to see him clearly?" His voice lowered.
From outside the glass, Alastor's grip on the tree branch tightened while he fought with all his strength to stop himself from breaking through the window.
Blaise broke the tension to continue circling the room, his hands clasped behind his back.
"A prince who destroys everything he touches," Blaise projected his voice across the room.
"Tell me," Blaise spoke again, his haughty voice was rich with amusement. "Did you really think you'd survive loving him?"
Alastor was getting ready to explode and do much worse to Blaise than he had a few days ago. His eyes scanned the borders while he counted the guards that surrounded the palace. He was hell-bent on fighting his way into the palace to save her and kill Blaise. But if he moved, she'd die. He needed numbers to make it past the guards and security borders. Without Zeta and the others, he didn't stand a chance. His only option was to go back and reassess. Now at least he knew the kingdom's location. Then, Elysium said something that grabbed his attention back.
"At least he doesn't pretend," she shot at Blaise, eyes narrowing.
Blaise's face shot to Elysium, intrigued; she'd never stood up for herself like this to him before. Blaise snickered, running his hands through his brunette hair.
"You're right, he doesn't pretend," Blaise said, licking his gums. "He destroys."
Blaise paused before he began to walk back to Elysium. He wrapped his hand around the back of her head, caressing her hair. Elysium trembled, fighting for strength. Blaise leaned his lips to the nape of her neck, his breath tickling her skin. He slowly lifted his mouth to her ear before whispering softly.
"I preserve."
His hands moved from her head towards her face. His fingers rested beneath her chin while he tilted her head up, looking down at her.
"You don't have to fight me," He mumbled to her, inching his lips closer to hers.
Alastor gritted his teeth from outside. Elysium's back was to him, and her responses were inaudible to him. From his perception, Elysium didn't look like she was fighting. She didn't look like she was about to attack him. She just silently cowered in the corner. Then, Alastor's heart stopped. Elysium's tired response made him spiral even further.
"I don't want to fight anymore."
Something inside Alastor snapped in that moment. He jerked back, stunned. It was then that Alastor realized Elysium viewed him just as everyone else did: the Dark Prince. While he carefully hopped down from the branch, he remained out of view before he snuck out of the kingdom. After he found Xavier, he discarded the golden hood and tossed it onto the grass. Xavier's hoofs stamped it into the mud before Alastor snapped the reins, leaving the cloak blowing in the breeze as they slowly faded out of view. The entire ride back, Alastor let the conversation he'd witnessed stir inside of him. He didn't choose this life, so why should he be punished for it? Alastor held a vacant expression during the entire ride back. He ruminated, letting all the insults thrown at him sink inside. This whole time, Alastor had thought Elysium was the only one who didn't think he was a monster. Without that, he had damned himself to an eternity of reclusion. If Elysium was just going to surrender to the preconceived notions about him, why would she bind herself to him? Would she really do all of that just to save her kingdom? That being said, if Blaise took over Sheol, Alastor would be killed or banished, while Elysium would rule in alliance with Blaise. When a royal member or a villager is banished, they are stripped of their magic and sent out beyond the realms to fend for themselves.
When Alastor finally reached Sheol, he exhaustedly walked up the spiral staircase to the meeting chambers, where Zeta and the army planned their execution for Elysium's rescue. Zeta noticed Alastor's expression when he walked inside. A hush fell over the group as he silently trailed to the circular table and hunched over the map without acknowledging anyone. Zeta squinted at Alastor.
"You found her."
Alastor didn't look up from the map.
"We ride at sunrise."
One of the soldiers persisted, stepping out from the group and raising his hand.
"We're not ready-"
"-You are." Alastor cut him off.