"Aloysia!" Zillah called out, snapping her sisters attention to her sibling. Relief crawled into Aloysia at the realisation that she was safe; an extra will to live, and extra reason to fight- to win.
Her sister looked distraught, as did she, allowing the stone to take charge was no easy feat, especially if she wanted to rein it back in again.
"Bring that pot over to me! I can switch it out for myself on the mine, I- I can get the Prince!" Zillah pleaded at her sister, pointing impatiently while eyeing the guard with disgust as his hands wrapped tightly around the unconscious Prince, stepping backward in a flustered haste.
No mist had wrapped around his pathetic self.
Aloysia nodded, understating Zillah's plan.
Her face grew tense, grinding her teeth upon one another at how much pain she was bearing.
It was as if her spinal cord was set alight, the mist travelling out of her every pore of her scarred skin.
Dipping her head in the direction of the metal pot, Aloysia called upon the stone, that answered; pulsating like a heartbeat through her -causing her body to jolt- as another trail of red power flew from her palm and engulfed the pot within a second.
Crimson eyes glared at it intensely, focusing on keeping all the remaining ties attached as well as manoeuvring something heavy.
Contracting every muscle in her quaking hand, and with a grunt slipping past her lips, the pot wrestled against gravity as it lifted into the air; the spiking mist carried it through the chaos toward Zillah, dropping it at her feet.
The mist dissipated around it as it crashed carelessly onto the floor; allowing a breath of air to flourish into Aloysia's oxygen deprived lungs.
Her chest was on repeat; rising and falling at a rapid pace; this was fatiguing to say the least as she kept hold of over 50 leashes or chains that choked the life out of Northern Soldiers.
Was this really her life? A constant battle? Life destroyed by blood lust and revenge that so far caused chaos and peril; destruction unknown to the civilian eye-
This was a war... between her, and the king.
Aloysia's eyes peered at her shaking palms; burn marks were etching into her skin, colouring her peachy flesh red.
The assassin could not hold out for much longer.
"Get the Prince out!" Aloysia instructed, whipping her head back as she let out a strained groan.
Her palms were pulsing, writhing at strengthening the connection between each trail and the necks of those she despised.
Those being, gasping for breath with no release or sudden hope of mercy; the mist being cold and bitter yet searingly boiling and stronger than a humans touch; relentless.
Zillah wasted no time, seeing how her sister was struggling to maintain... something that both scared and enlightened her; grabbing the scraped, disregarded pot while holding her breath.
Her throat constricted as, using her strength, she lugged the stiff pot onto the mine; slowly, carefully removing her own foot in the process.
Her ears drowned out all noise, her one intention with the soul purpose of not blowing everyone up.
She closed her eyes, the words "please" repeated on like a broken record in her mind.
One wrong slip up-
Crack.
Her foot was free.
The pot was positioned over the mine; securely in place.
Zillah fell to the floor, a flood of overwhelming emotions rushed her head like whiplash.
Her ankle was stiff -to no ones surprise- yet she never felt so free, so liberated; charging now head first at the un-assuming guard who was trying to make an escape with the Prince held at his mercy.
With expert precision, she launched her blade at his leg, aiming to severe his tendon.
No way of escape.
With eagle eyed precision, the blade punctured; causing a stumbling, screaming guard to plummet head first into the tough ground, releasing the hold of the unconscious Liam.
Zillah ran as fast as she could, catching him in her hold, holding him like a newly wedded bride.
Her eyes expanded at the sight of the amount of thick sparkling blood that had sprayed down his shirt; it's source being the nasty gash at his neck, that if left unattended, would become infected.
She noticed both his wrists were bruised-
Snagging a piece of her battered cloak, Zillah immediately wrapped it around his neck to clot the blood.
It was a messy knot, but would serve it's purpose until she could receive medical help.
He was heavier than she originally thought, her thighs wavering slightly as she turned back with him in her arms; the future king was in her hands... the fate of the unfortunate Southern kingdom.
Screams echoed behind Zillah, the fallen guard roaring at her, sending threats, as he bled out, clutching his leg in pure venom, "WE WILL FIND YOU BITCH! DON'T THINK FOR ONE SECOND THE KING WILL LET YOUR WORTHLESS LIVES LIVE!" He spat.
Zillah death glared him over her shoulder, her cloak slowly drowning in red.
"Same for you-" she spat.
He was silenced, allowing Zillah in her rage and wild emotions to walk past Aloysia, meeting eye contact. Confirmation.
He is safe, as you had asked for-
The double oak doors burst open once again, a figure rushing through-
Zelek. First reaction, immediately rushing to Aloysia's side, understanding her pain as he could feel it, feel half the pain she was in by that... that wretched death stone.
Aloysia had never felt so consumed by the stone before, so... emotionless, so void of light as if the stone was taking over and emptying her humanity; it's death taking its toll on her mentally and physically.
Yet seeing her brother, and the Prince safe in Zillahs arms sparked a new power in her, one that kept her humanity growing stronger, fighting back in defence; a war within.
Relief.
Shutting her eyes closed, and loosening her grip on reality, Aloysia inhaled sharply; trying to take back the burning reins that were reluctant.
One eyelid slipped open, slowing down time as her eyes wondered over to Liam; seeing the Prince's messy brown locks from beneath her hood, dangling from his head that was ghostly pale; contrasting the thick red splatters on his face as well as staining the cloth wrapped around his neck to suppress the bleeding. Cracked lips were parted, eyes shut and his expression was that of a dead person.
His chest was still rising and falling in Zillah's grasp, only faintly but traceable nonetheless.
She should have done better.
Never should have let him get involved, he never deserved this. Any of this. Because of her and the kings sick mind games, he was dragged in.
His title. A role that he was blessed to be born into, now, was his curse.
Somehow, even in his current state, he still looked mesmerising to her eyes...
She would do as the Queen requested, always...
Beginning to scream in power, Aloysia lifted her hands slowly, to then drop them to the ground so forcefully, a blast of violent air flew from her, dissipating the mist until she could breath without chains once again.
Aloysia fell to her knees, head droopy and eyes, flickering with no burning flame behind her iris.
She was exhausted.
Her body became weak, legs trembling and arms numb from the tip of her fingers to her elbow.
Her body was tilting, falling to the side and expecting to hit the bitter, frozen ground with a loud thud.
Instead, muscular arms enveloped her in an instant, wrapping around her vegetative state. A strong face fuelled with concern, obscured her vision; the stubble, crooked nose, the red eyes... Zelek.
He had lifted her, ignoring the coughing soldiers collapsed on the ground, each baring deep purple mark on their necks.
Some were dead.
But she didn't care.
She didn't have the capacity to care.
Zelek roared into action as he ran un-evenly with Zillah in tow out of the clustered room and into the fresh air that smacked their bodies with a cold breeze; the only priority being his sisters safety.
Aloysia shivered, squirming in his hold, as his arm reached to adjust the hood over her face; warming her from the frosty air.
Twigs were crushed beneath them as they ran hastily, deep into the dense forest border lining the castle; pushing past lower branches that caressed their bodies with the soft leaves, and jumping over fallen trunks embedded into the soft mud covered with a blanket of moss.
It was still in the morning air, that light crept its way through the gigantic trees shadowing them, their towering height making the forest incredibly dense.
Aloysia snuggled further into Zelek as much as her fatigued body would allow, not once opening her eyes.
The motion of running was uneven, rising up and down like an endless wave.
The wind fluttered through her hood into her ears, blocking out all sounds from the crunching twigs and leaves below.
They were out.
No more fighting.
Slowly, Zeleks pace began to dwindle, his stamina running on its last leg from sprinting.
He was surprised there was no chase... but with what he saw... he was unsure whether those soldiers had their windpipes still intact and functional.
He internally swallowed his grimace; dipping his head gently to view his older sister scrunched up against him; her chin poking out of the dark hood surrounding her face.
How could someone so caring be capable of such brutality? It astounded him.
He smiled.
Lowering his neck, his lips brushed the top of her hood, directly over her forehead as he felt his heart swell. He loved his sister so insanely much, willing to kill for her, do anything to anyone that broke her; both internally and externally.
Even as children, when she was taller, he would always stick to her like glue, along with his twin; together, protecting her like bodyguards, even when it was un-necessary since she was one of the best recruits the royals could ever ask for...
"Zelek?" Aloysia murmured against his chest, fighting the overpowering sense of sleep drifting over her. Zelek immediately gave her his complete attention, snapping his head from his dazed state.
"I'm here" he replied softly, pulling her closer to her chest as if she would slip like sand through his fingertips.
"I heard your call, and I answered"
The connection he shared went both ways. He could feel that tingle down his back when she reached out to him. He knew what he had to do.
Zelek desperately wanted to put her to rest, and charge like the mad man he is toward that castle to kill every last dammed bastard who touched her, who caused her pain in cruel cold blood.
Which, she was still bleeding from. He hadn't got a good look at the extent of her body, priority being the obvious gash across the prince's neck. But hers were equally detrimental.
Zillah, however had called out, arms growing tired from an unconscious lump in her hold, catching Zeleks attention.
"We've ran far enough, if I don't get the Prince treated, he'll die" Zillah exclaimed, concern and fear consuming her voice.
Aloysia heard it. Too weak to respond, and she did not trust her wavering voice to speak. Not like this.
Zelek nodded, reluctantly releasing and setting down Aloysia against a sturdy, thick tree.
What if there was a chase, but it was somehow delayed?
They would be sitting ducks.
He looked ahead; forested hills rolled away in every direction, the trees like the bars of a never-ending cage.
He swore. How big was this god dam wood?
"Take these, use your cloak as material and be sparing, this has to last" Zelek coughed, bringing out a vial from his interior pockets, hidden from sight.
A label plastered around its contents labelled 'Salve'.
Gently and carefully, Zillah kneeled on the wet ground, squelching as her legs buried itself like a plant's root; Zelek placing the vial on Liam's stomach as she had no hands free.
Zillah lowered the lax Prince on her thighs, bringing his neck closer to her. With utmost caution, Zillah's hand pinched the bloody cloth torn from her own cloak, that was wrapped like a bandage against his fatal wound.
The stakes were high, Zelek stood above, watching her with a sharp eye; worry behind his iris.
"The cut was not too deep, but the bleeding... he's lost a lot of blood", Zillah murmured, biting her lip in anxiety, pulling the material until skin drenched in blood hit the light, his once peachy complexion a pearly white.
The gash was coated in blood, a dark red staining his entire neck, crawling to the underside of his chin.
"This is bad..." she murmured.
Tearing another piece from her cloak, as clean as she could, Zillah slowly began to wipe at his neck; using the drops of rain still housed high in the leaves. Even if they were freezing.
Once clean and grabbing the vial, she popped it's lid off, calmly pouring a fingertips size onto a hygienic finger and began to lightly rub this pure white substance on his wound.
As soon as contact was pressed into his neck Liam jolted, a surge of pain spiralling from it.
Zillah leaned back, removing her finger with wide eyes. Before she could usher a word, Liam fell limp once again, head dangling, and his brown hair fluttering in the wind.
Zelek remained still, expectance being his only give away.
Gulping her saliva, Zillah with a determined mind hastily rubbed the cream into his wound... but this time, there was no flinch.
The pearly white dyed red, laying cold and strong coating his gash.
The bleeding had stopped, and a slight hue of colour was returning to his cheeks.
Thank god.
Using the rest of her cloak and the trickling water from nearby leaves, carrying the droplets of the nights rainfall, Zillah cleaned up the rest of his neck by removing the dried blood; placing a fresh cloth around his neck for support.
"He needs rest now"