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Surprisingly, Yazia was still alive.

    Yazia turned back towards her Kingdom for just a moment. She was a distance away, and seemingly safe amongst the shadows of the tall trees. But from there, Yazia could make out the large sea of flames, dancing and flickering around and creating a catastrophic demise to the remains of Sankori.

     She had luckily made it through the underground tunnels, and squeezed herself through the cracks of her burning walls without ever leaving a trail behind. Nobody would know where the Sankorian Princess had left in the night. Or why she had left her people to burn,and  her Kingdom to fall at the hands of Abingorian soldiers that invaded when the skies were dark.

    I have no choice.

    All of this suffering, for almost a century, would end soon. Although her brother Draven doubted her plans, she was confident that her decision to kill the King of Abingor would not only cease the war, but would also ensure that no enemy would dare try to conquer or invade Sankori again. Not while she was their Queen.

    She was losing everything. The crackling flames grew untamable in the night, lighting the land up like scorching sunlight. Wild screams. Screams of children, and refugees she had taken into her homeland, her sanctuary could be heard. Yazia swallowed and turned away.

    I'm sorry. I have to end this, or it will never stop. The War will never leave us to live together in peace.

    It was not a time to be weak--this happened all the time. Her people had died at the hands of humans for centuries. Humans were greedy, they wouldn't stop killing them even if she begged mercy. This only pushed her forward, to stop the suffering of her people that she had learnt to turn a blind eye to since young.

     Not only would she infiltrate Abingor and rain bloodshed on their land, but she would also take revenge for the suffering of tonight. For the night of all nights that her people had to suffer any longer until it was over.

    Yazia's throat burned. Her heart racketed inside of her chest, as though wanting to break itself free of the nightmare she was living in. She ran again, and darted through the forestry just outside Sankori. It was getting dark as she moved further away from the Abingorian flames that set Sankori alight for miles. Yazia couldn't see where she was going, but a feeling similar to fear, propelled her forward through the bristles of the branches, engulfing her in shadows.

    She confided in Draven to protect her throne the best that he could, but a sickening and unexplainable feeling gave way in her stomach, gnawing at her insides. After seeing the flames, Yazia thought that perhaps it wasn't that simple. Maybe she was wandering into a trap, or worse.

    Maybe that was definitely the last time she'd see her brother.

    Yazia heard more than she saw in the forest, such as the crispy leaves below her leather slippers. The sounds of their crunch was quiet, and overpowered by the thud of her heart. Large veins of roots spread across the muddy floor, and weaved into the ground. She pushed herself to keep moving, but all of a sudden the leaves below her feet softened, and she tripped. Luckily, Yazia didn't fall, but she felt the sogginess of the soil inside of her torn shoe.

    Oh, fuck.

    She scowled quietly, and for a few moments felt helpless. She was not dressed for such an endeavour to kill the King in her tunic and slippers, and the sudden realisation that she'd be taking this journey alone only weakened her confidence. 

    She pushed herself further, convinced she'd make it out of this forest and onto the lane nearby. Just as she was ready to faint from the exhaust of the adrenaline pumping through her veins, a trotting sound could be heard nearby. It echoed through the trees, and Yazia's eyes darted around to search for it. But to no avail, she saw nothing in the darkness.

    Who would be absurd enough to travel these roads so late at night? Maybe I just imagined it.

    Yazia grasped onto a branch attached to a tree. She pulled herself up the small hill and onto the road. Yazia dusted her gritty hands on her tunic and found herself at the familiar roads that exited Sankori. She hadn't ventured far afterall.

    Although the darkness obscured her view, the moonlight between the shadows of the trees illuminated the clear pathway, providing just enough light for her to see the expecting carriage trotting along the road. There was a driver sitting at the high-seat of the carriage, nearing closer with their four horses as she made out the shadows of them.

    Yazia immediately decided she had two major options: she could leave this carriage alone, and trek her own way to the Kingdom of Abingor, possibly by foot, in the dark, and alone on the road.

    At least with this option, she'd have the two daggers sheathed on the belt of her tunic, as well as the sword she carried earlier to be able to protect herself. She knew they would come in handy no matter the course she chose. But this option had the concern that somebody would find her, capture her, and then all of her plans would cease to exist. She'd be no use without a head on her shoulders.

    Or option two: she could jump out onto this lane, and stop the carriage. Perhaps she'd be able to take a ride to a tavern in Abingor, and make the rest of her journey alone. But an unsuspecting Abingorian could be awaiting her arrival in this very carriage, and she'd meet doom this way. But she didn't recognise the cress on the carriage when she'd taken a glimpse.

    Maybe luck could be on her side, but she had to take her chances.

    "Well, I don't have much of a choice," Yazia mumbled to herself. She covered her Elven ears with her matted hair, and braced herself. Yazia then headed straight for the center of the road, and raised her hands above her head. The carriage headed straight for her.

    "Stop! Stop please," she called out to it when the carriage approached.

    I'm crazy. This is an absurd idea.

    But the idea worked, and when the carriage came within six feet of her, the horses halted to a stop.

    Yazia's legs almost quaked when she made contact with the man on the high-seat. No further words came from her mouth, and all courage was swept from her as a feeling of doom began to settle in her gut. This was it, this was the time she'd get turned over to Abingor.

    She realised how grave this mistake was. There couldn't possibly be anyone else out on this road at night. Not when Abingor attacked her Kingdom--it would only make sense that whoever was traveling would be Abingorian themselves.

    "What are you doing on the road? Not another beggar, are ya? Move, ya stupid girl," The man's voice sounded rough, like he had been yelling all day long. But the horses waited patiently, their heads down and seemingly uninterested in the situation.

    Truthfully, I don't know. But this is all I've got.

    Yazia almost laughed at the thought. The craziness of the situation had made her become quite desperate. "I-I need a ride," she called out again.

    Yazia tried to make out what the old-man looked like. Whether by his face, she could tell if he'd be friendly enough, but she could barely make anything out.

    I must divulge my plans to nobody. Not even this man.

    "Ay," the man groaned out, followed by a plethora of incoherent grumbles. "I'm not a charity cause, dear. I do not—"

    The carriage doors suddenly swung open, and fear struck Yazia as the conversation between her and the rider halted to a stop. Even the forest fell silent. As the carriage master exited, their voice followed. "What is it now, Balthasar? We can't keep stopping like this. At this rate we'll never get to--" The voice was familiar. Yazia's heart thudded with relief when her eyes met his eyes once again.

    "Your Royal Highness...," Prince Aeneas stuttered out, "What are you doing here out in the cold? This is no place for you."

    Yazia glanced back and forth between Prince Aeneas and his coachman, Balthasar. She had never been happier to see somebody in all her life. The confidence slowly soaked back into her. "I need a ride, may I join you?"

    Thank the stars my head will not get cut off today.

    "Oh, you needn't ask, Your Royal Highness. Gosh, come inside! Balthasar, get ready to ride once more, and this time...Do stick to the road." Prince Aeneas' eyes darted back to Yazia, and extended his arm out to her as he held the door to the carriage.

    Yazia simply returned a smile to them both, and headed closer. She clutched her tunic and climbed into the carriage. Aeneas followed, and closed the door behind.

    The carriage felt somewhat warmer than outside. The candles that illuminated the coach helped her to see Prince Aeneas' face better as she sat across from him awkwardly. Her body swayed as the carriage began to move again, hearing the bustling of the horses once more.

    Yazia quietly rubbed her hands together in an attempt to warm herself up. This time, she noticed her hands were covered in dirt, and her clothes, and the torn slipper, too. It took everything inside her not to groan out loud as the sudden realisation came to her--how could she possibly present herself to the King of Abingor and expect his undivided attention in her state?

    "What brings on on this road?" Aeneas' voice snapped Yazia out of her thoughts. She noticed that his eyes were locked on her at every moment, like a hawk. She hoped this was the right decision.

    It seemed she came across as a mad-woman to him, as only a short while ago they battled in the ring for first blood, and now he was here, without any acknowledgement to what was currently becoming of Sankori.

    "It's a long story," she admitted, keeping her eyes low. But she couldn't help feeling comfort when their eyes met again.

    I must divulge my plans to nobody.

    "We have time." Aeneas smiled. Yazia noticed he was handsome as well as a good swords-opponent. His crescent moon eyebrows were knitted in what's to be a concerned manner as he continued looking at her.

    His angular cheekbones carved down into an oaken jaw. With a burly physique and glistening brown skin, she almost wondered why he wasn't a married man, yet.

    "Where are we going?" Yazia avoided his question and instead glanced out of the carriage's small window. She knew this route, there was nothing for miles ahead.

    "To Abingor," Aeneas stated, his dark brows furrowed once more. "Please do tell, Your Royal Highness, as to why you were out so late at night, and not at the Palace."

    That doesn't sound like a question. How bad could it be if I tell him? He didn't look like a traitor, after-all.

   Yazia said nothing, but a second glance in his direction convinced her that she didn't have a choice once again.  

    "Sankori has been attacked." The words felt heavy on her tongue. Yazia couldn;t believe she was saying them out loud. These very words she dreaded for the years she grew up since her parent's death, "I came here because I need to get to Abingor," Yazia finished.

   I'll tell him no more. Just to be safe.

    "It must be fate that I found you, then." He smiled again. "I'm very sorry to hear of the state of Sankori, Your Royal Highness. I'd heard rumours, but I didn't think any would be true, or happen so quickly."

    Yazia's eyes snapped to him. "Rumours? What rumours do you speak of?"

    Why hadn't anybody told her? Why was everybody hiding things from her?

    "Well..." Aeneas cleared his throat. "I'd thought you'd known, Your Royal High--"

    "Yazia!" she interrupted. "Please. Just call me Yazia. Why are you heading to Abingor, anyway?"

    "I don't believe I owe you that information, Yazia. It is too confidential, I cannot give," Prince Aeneas admitted.

    Yazia stiffened. The world around her felt like it had been shrinking away, or changing into something much more menacing. Was there nobody she could trust anymore? Yazia thought back to Draven. She didn't want to worry about her trust in him being shattered too. They were family. He promised that he'd protect her throne.

    What is left of her Kingdom.

    "Well, I am heading there to propose an alliance," Yazia lied. She needed everybody now more than ever to believe that her goal was to surrender, that she was weak and had nowhere else to go. But of course, that was not on her mind. She would not even dare for anybody to recognise her Elven heritage, even.

    "You're going to request it at the suitors ball?" Aeneas asked. "Why, that does sound like a great idea, given your situation.

    "Yes," Yazia lied again. She hadn't known there would be a ball waiting for her around the corner.

This is a game-changer!

    How luck was on her side; it would make plans so much easier. She'd be able to blend herself into the court-house of Abingor, and infiltrate. She would finally kill the man she'd been itching to.

    "But ah! There is just one problem," Aeneas suddenly scowled, his eyes gazing upon her dress-wear. "You can't possibly think that it is a good idea to go dressed like that, do you?"

    Oh shit.

    It hadn't occurred to Yazia what she'd do with that matter. How she had no belongings, no clothes to bring with her. She owned nothing. But it was as though Prince Aeneas had read her mind.

    "You're lucky I still have my late sister's trunk in the back," Aeneas said awkwardly.

    "Oh no! Aeneas, I couldn't possibly do that to-"

    "It's quite alright." Aeneas nodded reassuringly. "I can't seem to get rid of it. It would be of better use with you rather than to collect debris. And besides, Darla would have loved to have met you."

    Yazia instinctively reached to graze Aeneas' hand out of comfort, but pulled back in hesitation. "Thank you." she smiled. Yazia felt grateful, she truly did. "There is no way I could ever possibly repay you for such generosity, I--"

    "You do not need to thank me, Yazia. It is the very least I can do." Aeneas paused, as though he were thinking about something else to say, but decided against it. "Perhaps you should get some rest? We still have a long road ahead. I'll be sure to wake you when we're closer."

    Yazia decided not to fight this. It was reasonable, and she was admittedly very tired from the eventful day. She would need the sleep to rest up before she arrived at Abingor.

    Thankful for his hospitality—without Aeneas, she wouldn't be one step closer to making Abingor reign in blood.

    She nodded, with thanks, and clutched onto her torn, and dirty indigo cloak that she wrapped around her tiresome frame. She closed her eyes. Greeted with the darkness once again, one thing was for certain; nothing would prevent her from this mission she had ahead.

    And little did Aeneas know, he helped an assassin on board. He'd help her through the gates of Abingor. One who was hungry for the blood of one man only.

    No matter the cost.

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