Alastor's black armor decorated his tall, muscular body while he prepared Xavier for the war. Tensions were thick in the air while the army gathered its weapons and began to mount their horses. High in her tower, Celeste watched the army begin their journey through the window, still swallowed in guilt. Alastor clipped his black hooded cloak around his chest and stuck his sword into its sheath wrapped around his torso. His boots clicked against the tile hallway while Alastor met with Zeta in the chambers to go over the last few details.
"Do not be impulsive tonight, Alastor," Zeta warned, eyes narrowing.
Her royal blue armor twinkled in the firelight as she stared out the window, scanning the kingdom and villagers. She turned back to Alastor with a serious expression on her face. Just as she was about to speak, the chamber doors swung open, sending the hounds' ears up towards the sky. A soldier stuck his head in through the doorway, leaning inside.
"It's time, your majesty," the guard said, bowing to Alastor.
He nodded in response, heading towards the door.
Zeta and Alastor hurriedly walked down the staircase towards the stables. Xavier neighed when he saw Alastor, digging his hoof into the grass. Alastor swung his legs around his horse, lightly tapping Xavier's flank with the heel of his boot. He snapped the reins and sent them galloping towards the front of the army, which had already begun its journey. The wind blew into Alastor's face as he sped faster, tangling his raven hair. Zeta followed close behind Alastor on her Clydesdale, serving as second in command. Her crossbow had been tied around her chest, sitting at the small of her back.
A long line of soldiers trailed behind Alastor, ready to rescue the stolen princess. Alastor's anger had been boiling for days, desperate to burst out. This was the moment he'd spent hours ruminating on, pacing around his bedroom quarters for a plan.
After miles of vacant land and long, stretching valleys, the mysterious towers of Virellion slowly came into view. Alastor's chest tightened the closer they got to the kingdom, praying their plan would succeed. Smoke poured into the sky from the scattered bonfire in the kingdom, painting the sky a cloudy gray. Alastor could feel the dark magic pulsing from Virellion, flowing through his veins. Alastor felt his body tense when he imagined Juliet alone…with Blaise.
I'm coming, Juliet. Alastor thought as he slowed to a trot before the territory lines.
Meanwhile, Juliet sat on the edge of her bed, waiting for her maids to finish dressing her. An earthy green dress hugged her small figure, showing her sleek curves. It dove down her chest with golden lining trailing down to the tip of her stomach. The waist of her dress had been wrapped in a golden strip, along with thick, sun-kissed chains that sat on her hips. A blonde head chain sat upon her chestnut hair, draping over the top of her forehead. Her maids laced her gold-colored sandals, tying her hair into a messy, low ponytail. Her framing pieces fell over her cheeks, brightening her tired, hazel eyes.
Surrounded by her assistants, Juliet slowly trailed down the hallway towards Blaise's chambers. Spread across his throne, Blaise's boots were kicked up on the armchair, his back leaning casually against the cushions. Juliet swallowed while the great, purple doors pushed open, leading to his violet-encrusted throne. A long aisle decorated with an indigo carpet stretched from Blaise's throne to the front doors.
The towering doors slammed shut, sending a loud echo through the room. Juliet was too exhausted to fight anymore; she just wanted peace. Her assistance remained at the entrance while Juliet slowly walked down the aisle to Blaise, bowing before his throne. A smaller chair had been placed next to Blaise's throne for her, carefully decorated with indigo gemstones. Blaise was dressed in dark gray armor, with a violet cape attached to the collar, the hem hovering inches above the tile floor from his seat. He ran his hands through his dark hair, grinning at Juliet.
"I think today will be quite entertaining, Princess," Blaise said with an ominous tone.
Juliet let his words roll off her back; he always said things to try to get into her head. She took everything Blaise said with a grain of salt, letting it flow in one ear and out the other. She folded her arms, sitting back into her chair. Blaise turned to Juliet, slowly tracing his fingers down her cheek. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, smiling maliciously. Juliet rested her chin on the palm of her hand with a miserable look planted on her face. Blaise noticed her vacant expression.
"You're still thinking about him, aren't you?" Blaise asked, smirking.
Juliet rolled her eyes, pushing herself further away from Blaise.
"I'm thinking about my kingdom," she replied dryly.
Blaise huffed.
"I can see the wheels turning in your head," he continued. "I would hate to have to tighten my leash on you, Princess."
Juliet felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She'd been allowed freedom from her chains during the daytime, but she'd had to earn it with her obedience. She let her mind travel off to a different realm, numbing her from her captor. She would vibrate in disgust every time she watched Blaise's face light up from her agony. He was a tyrannical leader, hell-bent on destroying Alastor's life in any way he could. For now, Juliet was the key to Alastor's demise. She only wondered when he'd cave to his impulses.
Xavier's hooves stopped inches before the border lines. Alastor looked behind him to make sure the rest of the army had made the journey. He held his breath while he looked over at Zeta, who nodded in approval for their entrance. Alastor sent Xavier forward while he pulled his dark hood over his head, disguising his face. They halted to a stop a few feet in front of the palace, camouflaged inside a cluster of trees and boulders. Alastor dismounted his horse, tying the reins around a nearby branch. He turned back to face the army.
"We need to move quietly," he ordered. "His soldiers are well-trained. Keep that in mind."
Zeta was stationed at the front of the group, clutching the handle of her sword that rested against her leg. Once the rest of the group parked their horses, Alastor stepped to the edge of the trees, scanning the palace's security; It was littered with guards, ready to strike first and ask questions later. He took the first step, exposing himself in the clearing to the palace. He crept silently around trees and blended his dark clothing with the shadows. Torches lit the pathways that circled the palace, dimly lighting the castle walls. The full moon shone down on Alastor's dark armor, illuminating his crystal-blue eyes. His eyes were glued to a back entrance inside the palace. He shook his head, trying to shake the idea of impulsively turning rogue and head inside on his own. He kept his face forward, organizing the guards to surround the cluster of enemies that guarded the kingdom. Once the army was stationed properly, hiding in the bushes and shadows, Alastor nodded to Zeta, signaling the start of their plan. Zeta pulled her crossbow from behind her, loading an arrow inside. She held the point of the arrow up, stabilizing it to one of the lead generals. She squinted, keeping the bow steady. Once she released, the arrow quickly soared through the air, striking the guard in the neck. Blood spattered from his throat and trickled onto the ground while his body slopped over, rolling onto the grass.
The enemy guards erupted in chaos, while Alastor signaled for his army to start the ambush. His army leapt out from hiding, raising their blades to the enemies. The loud sounds of clinking blades and angry roars filled the sky while villagers retreated to their homes, locking the doors. Alastor moved quickly, taking down one guard after the other. He grinned in amusement, enjoying the enemy's confidence. Magic cracked like thunder while Alastor sent his dark waves barreling towards one of the guards, knocking him to the ground. With the air knocked out of him, the guard groaned, clutching the back of his head. The gates of Verrillian burned gold and black as the forces tore into the guards, slowly picking off the clusters of angry soldiers. Zeta led the pack, holding the line just long enough for Alastor…
Alastor didn't wait for orders.
He didn't think.
He didn't look back.
"Try not to get yourself killed before I return," Alastor tossed over his shoulder, already moving and slipping through the defense.
Zeta shouted after him, something sharp and furious, but was swallowed by the chaos and aggressive shouts.
Alastor grinned anyway, dodging the swipes of blades towards his torso and throat.
Nobody ever stopped Alastor anyway; there was no point in trying to contain him.
Alastor quickened his pace while he stepped up to the front doors with large door handles. He pulled the grand door open, echoing through the walkway into the castle. Inside the palace, everything turned quiet; It was too quiet. Alastor rested his hand lazily on the hilt of his blade, posture relaxed; He almost seemed bored with the anticlimactic entrance.
"Expected more of a welcome," he muttered under his breath, sifting through the hallways for the lost princess.
Without any guards or resistance, something felt off. For the most powerful princess in the realms, Blaise didn't seem to be concerned with her security. Alastor could sense the trap before he even stepped near the room where Elysium was held. He could feel the guards surrounding him like wolves, waiting to attack. A smirk tugged at his mouth while he stepped forward.
"Good," he said under his breath. "I was getting bored."
At the end of the hallway sat a pair of tall golden doors. They traveled from the ceiling to the floor. Something pulled Alastor that way, before he felt a burning pain in his arm. His eyes fell to his shining wrist where the tattoo glowed dimly. He winced in pain as he reached for the doorknob, struggling to grasp it. Alastor slowly pulled the door open.
The air changed before Alastor even saw her; it felt like his entire world paused. He hid behind the corner, keeping himself out of sight before stepping into the bare room.
His chest tightened when he felt her presence.
"...Elysium?" His voice came out quieter than he intended.
Alastor finally turned the corner, and suddenly, everything inside him shattered.
There she was.
Chained with glowing restraints, Elysium's head hung low while she sat on her knees, bound to a tall pillar that rose to the ceiling. The heavy, glowing iron had been wrapped around her throat, wrists, ribs, and ankles. She looked like a trapped animal, her eyes begging for freedom. Still, her beauty shone like the sun, even through her obvious pain. The dim light from her chains illuminated the bags that hung beneath her lashes. An ivory scarf had been tied around her mouth just above the bridge of her nose, matching her tired eyes.
Alastor jerked himself back behind the corner to hide again. He wrestled with himself, ready to spring out and rescue Elysium. He counted down in his head…
One-
Two-
"Dammit," Alastor cursed under his breath, already regretting his recklessness.
"Elysium," he said louder, pleading to grab her attention.
Silence.
In that moment, Alastor shifted. He snapped, moving fast. Stripped of his arrogance, Alastor moved across the room, raw and vulnerable.
When he rushed to her side, Elysium yelped, startled. Her eyes widened, and she blinked, just to make sure it was really him.
"Hey, hey, look at me," he called, voice breaking around the edges as he closed the distance. "I've got you. I've got you, alright? Just-just hold on-"
Alastor's puppy-dog eyes were desperate and helpless.
Elysium's eyes widened, muffled remarks trying to escape from her covered mouth. She fought with him, frantically shoving him away from her. She looked terrified; her face was pale, and her body trembled. Alastor squinted, trying to make out her words.
"Ely-"
Steel slammed into his back. Magic slapped around his wrists, tightening with each second. The overpowering magic drove Alastor to his knees, arms wrenched behind him, as he fought against the supernatural force.
"-the hell-" Alastor muttered.
A cold blade pressed to his throat, inches from piercing his skin. Alastor froze, but not out of fear, out of retaliation. He quickly strategized his next moves, eyes scanning the room. Elysium's muted screams could be heard from across the room while she kicked at the mystical chains holding her.
Alastor's head hung low, his raven hair falling over his forehead. For a moment, he seemed like he'd given up. Then, his eyes lifted slightly. His mouth curved into a slight grin.
"Well," he said lightly with his voice rough, amused. "This is new."
The guards beside him tightened their hold. Alastor didn't struggle or fight it, at least, not yet. Alastor's gaze flickered back to the trapped princess, and something dark shifted beneath his composed expression.
"A bit excessive, don't you think?" Alastor added, tilting his head up a bit. "All this just for me?"
This time, a new voice answered. Smooth and measured, the dangerous voice echoed across the room.
"Not just for you."
"Well, well, well," Alastor said with a low tone; his skin lightly grazed the blade. "His Royal Highness finally shows himself." His voice was poisoned with sarcasm.
"You really should learn patience," Blaise said, rubbing his chin as he entered. "It's a fatal flaw of yours."
Alastor huffed a quiet laugh.
"I suppose I always had a flair for the dramatics."
His eyes molded into something deeper, locked onto Blaise.
"Now let her go," he commanded.
Blaise's eyes shifted to Elysium, then back to Alastor, who grew more impatient by the second. Blaise's lips curved upwards.
"No."
The guards gripped Alastor's tussled hair, ripping his head and exposing his throat. They pressed the blade harder against his skin, blood trickling down his neck.
Alastor's expression didn't change; he remained the same.
"That's a mistake," Alastor spat back, eyes flaring.
Blaise's smile widened while he stepped closer to Alastor, looming over his helpless body.
"I really don't think it is," he replied, eyes narrowing.
Once Blaise stepped close enough, the torchlight illuminated every detail of his expression. His eyes were wild with excitement.
"You came alone," he said. "Even when you knew it was a trap."
Alastor's lips curved, his dimples carving at the corners of his mouth.
"Confidence," he corrected. "You should try it sometime."
Blaise tilted his head, curious.
"Is that what it is?"
Blaise's eyes shot over to Elysium, who shrank back, pulling her knees into her chest.
"Tell me," Blaise said calmly, straightening and clasping his hands behind his back. "How much is she worth to you?"
Without hesitating, Alastor replied.
"Everything."
His instictivness made Blaise even more intrigued.
"Because now you get to choose."
The air tightened, and Alastor blinked, confused.
"Choose what…?"
Blaise slightly leaned in towards Alastor, just close enough so he could utter the next shattering words. His voice spoke, quieter now.
"Her," he said, nodding towards Elysium. "Or Sheol."
The silence was crushing; Elysium screamed from across the room, fighting her volume with her covered mouth.
Alastor didn't speak. He stood frozen, unable to breathe.
"You can save the girl," Blaise's voice dropped. "Or you can save your kingdom."
Blaise's unforgiving face locked on Alastor.
"The choice is yours."