As the sun rose higher in the sky, Aralis' bustling streets started to quiet down. Princess Liria, Prince Belin, and their companions stood near the gates of the capital, preparing for their departure. Tia, as always, stood close by, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet vigilance, while the guards, ever loyal, checked their weapons one last time.
But beneath the surface of their preparations, a lingering sense of unease weighed heavily on the group. The city had felt like an open wound ever since they'd arrived, its oppressive atmosphere never quite allowing them to relax. It was almost as if the very streets of Aralis were conspiring against them, as if the city's pulse held some dark secret they couldn't yet uncover.
Liria glanced over at her brother. His face was set, grim, as he surveyed their surroundings. Though his posture was relaxed, his eyes constantly flicked from one side to the other, alert, as if he expected danger at every turn. And he wasn't wrong to be wary.
"We're almost ready," Belin said quietly, his voice low enough that only Liria could hear. "Let's move before anyone realizes we're leaving."
Liria nodded, though she couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The unease she'd felt ever since they entered Aralis had only grown, the weight of something ominous pressing against her chest. She glanced back at the towering walls of the capital, feeling a strange pull to stay, to uncover whatever hidden threat was lurking in the city. But she pushed the thought away. They had to leave. They had to move.
The guards gathered around them as they began to head toward the carriage, ready to escort the royal siblings out of the city. But just as they were about to pass through the gates, a figure darted out from the shadows.
It was too quick. Too sudden.
A sharp cry split the air, and Liria barely had time to react before one of the guards, a young man with a hardened face named Jaron, was struck down by a blow so fast it left no time for him to defend himself. His body crumpled to the ground, a dark stain spreading beneath him.
"Ambush!" Varek shouted, drawing his sword in an instant. He swung it toward the oncoming assailants, but they were already upon them, moving with a speed and ferocity that took even the guards by surprise.
There were five of them, all clad in dark cloaks that blended seamlessly with the shadows. Their faces were hidden beneath masks, but their eyes gleamed with a cold, calculating intent. The first assassin lunged toward Varek, his twin daggers flashing in the sunlight. Varek parried the strike with ease, but the assassin's strength was unnerving, and the force of the blow left Varek staggering backward.
"Get the princess to safety!" Belin barked to his men, his voice laced with urgency. But before they could react, another assassin lunged at him, a blur of movement, and the prince was forced to draw his sword, meeting the assassin's weapon in a clash of steel.
Tia, standing by Liria's side, looked from the chaos unfolding before them to the prince, then back to the guards. Her face was set, her fingers clenched tightly around her staff, though she didn't move. Liria could see the determination in her eyes, the readiness to fight.
"Stay close," Liria whispered, but Tia didn't need to be told. They both knew that staying close to the prince and the guards was their best chance of survival.
The battle quickly escalated. Banrik fought with a savage intensity, his sword cutting through the air as he fended off two of the assassins at once. He was a wall of muscle, a true warrior, but the attackers were relentless. With each passing second, the odds seemed to grow worse. The assassins were skilled—too skilled. The guards, despite their training and strength, struggled to keep up with the sheer viciousness of their foes.
Liria's heart raced as she watched her brother engage in combat, his movements precise but desperate, his sword flashing as he deflected blow after blow. The prince had always been a capable fighter, but this... this was something else entirely. He wasn't just defending himself—he was protecting them. Protecting her.
"Belin!" she shouted, her voice trembling. "We need to leave! Now!"
But the prince didn't hear her. His focus was entirely on the assassins, his jaw clenched in determination. He knew, just as she did, that their only chance to survive was to escape, but there was no time to think clearly. The attackers were everywhere.
"Liria!" Belin finally called, his voice hoarse. "Go! Get to the carriage, now! We'll hold them off!"
Liria shook her head, unwilling to leave him. "No! I'm not leaving you!"
"I'm not asking," he snapped, his tone harder than she had ever heard it. "You need to go. Now. I'll find you."
There was a finality in his voice that made her stomach twist with unease. She could see the look in his eyes—the determination to protect her at any cost. But she also saw the grim understanding that they couldn't all stay.
"I won't leave you, Belin!" she cried again, her chest tightening with emotion.
"Liria," he said, his voice softening just slightly. "I promise you, I will find you. You need to trust me."
Tia's voice was quiet but firm beside her. "We don't have a choice, Princess. We must go now."
Reluctantly, Liria glanced over at Tia. The calm resolve in the servant's eyes was enough to make her bite back the panic rising in her throat. She could see the guards forming a protective ring around Belin, fighting with everything they had, but there was no time to waste.
With a final, lingering glance at her brother, Liria nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Be careful," she whispered, her voice breaking.
"I will. Go now!" Belin shouted, his voice rising over the din of clashing steel.
Tia gently took Liria's arm and began guiding her toward the carriage. The two of them moved as quickly as they could with Banrik commanding the horses that pulled carriage, but Liria couldn't shake the feeling that they were leaving something behind—something vital, something she wasn't sure they could survive without.
The guards formed a line, their swords flashing as they fought to hold back the assassins. But even in the face of their strength, the attackers were relentless. And as Liria and Tia reached the carriage, she could hear the sounds of the battle growing fainter behind them.
"Go!" Tia urged, shoving the door of the carriage open.
Liria hesitated for just a moment longer, her gaze locking with Belin's one last time. He was standing tall, surrounded by enemies, but his eyes were locked on hers. He gave her a slight nod, a silent promise. It wasn't much, but it was enough. She had to trust him.
With a final, deep breath, Liria climbed into the carriage, her heart heavy with uncertainty. Tia followed swiftly, and the door slammed shut behind them. The horses were already moving, urged forward by Banrik, and they were leaving the capital, leaving behind the city that had been their home, even if only for a short time.
But as they sped through the narrow streets, Liria couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone. Her pulse quickened, and she leaned forward, staring out the window. The streets were empty now, but something felt off—like they were being followed.
And then, as the carriage rounded a corner, Liria caught a glimpse of movement. Two dark figures, cloaked in shadow, moved swiftly through the alleyways, their eyes glinting in the sunlight.
They were following them.
Liria's heart pounded in her chest. "Tia," she whispered, her voice shaking. "We're not safe. They're still following us."
Tia's eyes narrowed. "I know," she said, her voice steady despite the danger. "We have to keep moving."
The carriage sped up, but Liria knew that danger was closing in. And it was only a matter of time before the shadows caught up to them.