I ducked into the cramped little room we'd been calling home for the past few months, heart still racing from the conversation I'd just overheard outside. Gwen was already there, sprawled on the old, faded couch, scrolling through something on her tablet, looking up as I entered. She had the same tired expression I was beginning to recognize in myself—the one that said we were both exhausted from running, from hiding, from this life we'd built out of scraps and lies.
"Anything new?" Gwen asked, raising an eyebrow, though I could see the tension behind her casual question.
I shook my head, tossing my jacket onto the chair near the door. "Nothing we didn't already know. Still wanted. Still fugitives. Still no closer to clearing my name."
Gwen sighed, sitting up. "I figured."
It had been a year since we'd run. A year of constant moving, never staying in one place too long, always checking over our shoulders. We'd kept contact with Dragonir to a minimum—only a few encrypted messages here and there, just enough to let them know we were alive, but not enough to risk leading the authorities to us. And it wasn't like they could help much anyway. I was a fugitive now, a criminal in the eyes of the council, and even her family's influence could only go so far.
The warrant for my arrest had been issued so quickly, it still left me breathless sometimes. All because of what happened that night. But now, in the eyes of the law, I was a threat. A mistake.
"Seraphina, we can't keep doing this forever," Gwen said, her voice pulling me from my thoughts. She leaned forward, her eyes serious. "We need a plan. Something bigger than just running."
I nodded slowly, sinking down onto the couch next to her. She wasn't wrong. We couldn't hide forever. But what other choice did we have?
"I've been thinking," I began, my voice low, "about running for Heir Apparent."
Gwen blinked at me, clearly taken aback. "You want to run for Heir Apparent? With an arrest warrant out on you?"
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Yes. It's the only way to fix this. If I win, if I become Queen, I can clear my name, change things from the inside. They can't ignore the will of the people, not if I win the popular vote."
"How do you plan to do that when you're literally a wanted criminal?" she asked, her voice incredulous. "I mean, it's not like you can just waltz into the capital and announce your candidacy."
"No," I agreed, my mind already racing with ideas. "But there are ways around that. We've been in hiding for a year, and we've learned a thing or two about staying under the radar. We can use that to our advantage. I don't have to be there in person to start campaigning."
Gwen stared at me, a small smile creeping onto her face despite her skepticism. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
I nodded. "I've thought about it a lot. Running is the only way out of this mess. I can't keep hiding forever, Gwen. I need to take control of my own fate."
She was quiet for a moment, her eyes scanning my face, searching for any sign of doubt. But I was determined, more so than I had been in a long time.
"Okay," she said finally, her voice steady. "Okay, let's say you do this. How do we start? How do we gain popularity when you're... well, a fugitive?"
"That's the tricky part," I admitted. "We can't rely on traditional campaigning methods. I can't hold rallies, I can't make public appearances. But we can use other means. Social media, anonymous messages, underground movements. We've spent a year avoiding the authorities. Now, we use that same skill set to gain support from the shadows."
Gwen crossed her arms, leaning back against the couch. "You're talking about building an entire campaign from the underground? It sounds... insane."
"It's risky, I know," I said, "but it's our best shot. People are already skeptical of the council. They know there's corruption, that the system is broken. I just need to show them that I'm different. That I'm the change they need."
"And how exactly do you plan to do that without showing your face?" Gwen asked.
I pulled out a notebook from my bag, flipping through the pages until I found the one I'd been working on for the past few weeks. It was filled with ideas, rough sketches of a plan, ways to reach the people without exposing myself.
"I don't need to show my face," I said, pointing to the notes. "I can be a symbol. An idea. The people don't need to know exactly who I am—they just need to believe in what I stand for. I can release statements, videos with my voice disguised, even messages from anonymous supporters. We create a movement, not a traditional campaign."
Gwen looked down at the notebook, then back up at me. "And you think people will just... follow you?"
"I think they're ready for change," I said firmly. "I think they're tired of the corruption, the lies. If I can convince them that I'm the answer to that, they'll follow. Arrest warrant or not."
She was quiet for a long time, and I could see the wheels turning in her mind. Finally, she nodded slowly, a hint of a smile on her lips.
"Alright, Sera. Let's do it. Let's make you Queen."
---
The first step was getting the message out. Gwen and I spent hours poring over my notes, crafting a statement that would resonate with the people without giving too much away. It needed to be bold, daring, but also careful—enough to ignite the spark of rebellion without drawing too much attention from the authorities.
We set up an anonymous social media account, one that couldn't be traced back to either of us, and began posting small, cryptic messages about change, about corruption, about the future. At first, it was slow. A few likes here and there, a handful of shares. But then, something shifted. The messages began to spread, whispers of a new movement, of a leader who would rise to challenge the council.
Within a few weeks, we had gained thousands of followers, people who were hungry for change, who were tired of the same old politics and lies. They didn't know who I was—only that I promised something different, something better.
But we needed more than just social media buzz. We needed real supporters, people who would rally behind my cause and help spread the message in the real world. That's where Gwen came in. She was the one with connections, the one who knew how to navigate the underground networks we had been relying on for the past year.
"I've got a few people I can reach out to," she said one night as we huddled over our makeshift campaign headquarters—an old storage room in the back of a rundown apartment building. "People who owe me favors, who can help get the word out. But it's going to take time."
"We've got time," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure that was true. The council was still looking for me, and it was only a matter of time before they caught wind of my campaign. But until then, we had to keep moving, keep pushing forward.
The next few months were a blur of planning, strategizing, and organizing. We created pamphlets, flyers, and posters, all with my symbol—the silhouette of a phoenix rising from the ashes, a symbol of rebirth, of hope. We distributed them through underground channels, making sure they reached the hands of those who would support the cause without betraying our location.
And slowly, the movement grew. More and more people began to rally behind the message, calling for change, for justice, for me to rise as their Queen.
But it wasn't enough to just have supporters. I needed to win the vote. And to do that, I needed to sway the undecided, the people who were still on the fence about whether to support a fugitive. That's where the real challenge lay.
Gwen and I worked tirelessly, crafting speeches, statements, and videos that would appeal to the masses without revealing my identity. We played up the corruption of the council, the injustice of the system, and the need for a new leader who would put the people first.
And slowly, ever so slowly, the tide began to turn in our favor.
But with every step forward, the risk grew. The authorities were still looking for me, and every day that passed brought us closer to being discovered. We had to be careful, had to stay one step ahead of the council's agents.