With a predator's stealth and her thick cloak shielding her from view, Aloysia crept cautiously from the ancient trees the moment she spotted smoke arising over the sun. That meant people.
Adjusting her hood to ensure darkness consumed her face, she carefully trudged round the houses as she approached the villiage. Her knees were crying out, as was her bleeding arm but she held steady- needing to find them.
Distant chatter could be heard as she crept, not daring to look, she couldn't risk it. Not this time. Not with the King no doubt gunning for her head... and even the prince... She swatted those thoughts away, she was not Elianna- but Aloysia. The assassin who did not care for emotion. Yes- that was her... but why didn't she feel the same?
The sun was still situated above the horizon, leaving no evidence of night to shroud her out. However, it left crevices where shadows lurked, giving easy access to sneak effectively.
As she walked, she brushed her hands against the barren concrete walls of abandoned buildings further from the town, feeling the rough edges pinch at her bloodied skin; sending a sensation of belonging, of being alive. Reminding her that she was human, and had a fighting chance like everyone else.
To live in a normal village where she didn't have to hide her true self... would be a luxury. She hated the castles, the Princess life, only ever wanting to experience the taste of what it truly felt to belong; to be free. She's had this underlying desire since she could remember, always craving it.
Retracting her hand under the protection of her cloak, she moved silently through the ruin of an old chapel and between two quaint cobblestone homes as the village drew close.
As Aloysia surfaced from the silence, -still hidden- the sun greeted her with rays of warmth flooding her insides.
The village was miniature, greenery and wildlife merged with the industrialisation of humans throughout the street. Food carts, exotic materials, all trading goods were placed on display in front of rustic worn down homes. Tough and shielding against unforgiving weather conditions.
Her nostrils inflamed with spices and crops that the hustling street provided. The sound of children laughing along with their friends deafened out any other sound. The sound of happiness. Capturing onto a blissful moment, she kept that emotion in her heart, there ready for when it strikes, and it will, soon...
That feeling however, was quickly sought out as she realised, she was drenched in blood and filth.
Peering out from under her hood, she caught a glimpse of a typical clothes shop; deciding it would not be best to stand in broad daylight dressed like this.
Turning her head in its direction with her cloak flowing behind, a scream caught her attention.
Snapping her head to face the commotion, her eyes froze. An image of soldiers by the hundreds marching down the village centre obscured her vision. Her body shuddered at its sight.
She had only beat them by a minute... any second later and Aloysia would've been caught in the forest..
Mothers cradling their kids to keep them away from the peril danger that Aloysia just stood and watched unfold.
Bearing the embelin of the Northern royal family, they marched in unison, lead by a southern soldier, and disturbing everything. A letter of importance doused in a red ribbon caught Aloysia's eyes... A letter from the king. She gulped, forcing her body to decline back to the safety of the shadows.
Looming over the corner of the building, she now perched, listening adamantly and attentively, scoping for any sign of a threat.
"News from the king", the general shouted, startling the civilians who they were addressing. He began to unfold the paper carefully as if it were to rip to shreds by touch. Written on it with ink spoke, "I am awfully horrified with myself to be the bearer of such bad news, but the Queen of the Southern Kingdom at midnight was ruthlessly slain by none other than The Shadow herself-". Startled from the news, her body began to shake slightly. Lies... all of it, lies...
Gazing up at the other receivers of the information, her heart shattered. Their faces of pain and gut-wrenching grief contorted their image as the news sunk in. Their queen was dead... and she killed her. For once in her life the sting of fear struck through her body like lightning at her realisation of the situation. She was being framed. The king had framed her. Why?
To gain more eyes scoping out for her.
With her heartbeat increasing she snapped out of her delusional thoughts to hear the lies further, struggling to hold herself upright. "For your own protection, I, your gracious king have assigned soldiers to protect all villages, including your village from her dangerous and murderous behaviour. If she is spotted, inform a nearby soldier to apprehend her to ensure she pays for her crime against the hearts off all that loved our dearest queen." He finished.
Her heart dropped through her body. She was being hunted. If the king had sent troops to a secluded village with no worth, then other towns would also be populated with soldiers.
The air grew immensely thick as the Kings lies moulded and attached themselves to his victims. Their grief turned to anger, and from anger to violence as rage began echoing every corner of the village. What was once a peaceful town, now became one of nightmares.
Her shaking body tripped, developing sudden movements and drawing a crowd to look at her. Aloysia gulped. All eyes were plastered on her, like needles to a pin cushion, crushing her with their intense gazes.
"That's her, isn't it" A farmer shouted, spitting at the mention of 'her'. The soldiers exchanged brief nods before advancing towards Aloysia... the Southern soldier hesitant as he backed away. Not out of fear, but in tactic.
Each step was like a heartbeat. They knew who they were dealing with...
She wouldn't allow herself to be brought to her knees in front of that king- especially not Liam. She didn't do anything wrong- this wasn't fair...
Aloysia stepped back as they advanced; hundreds of soldiers were here, baring their iron at her.
That's when a feeling of power rose through her, stinging, but soon settling, and she remembered, "Your right-" Aloysia fixed her hood, composing her posture to her deathly stance, gripping to the unsheathed blades once more.
The assassin, who could draw out pain like a musician coaxing a melody from an instrument, sneered.
"I am The Shadow"
If this is how they wished to get her... so be it. But she would not give up her freedom lightly.