The sky bled with fire. Cheers swelled, the voices echoing as Octavia stood with her shoulders back, watching the flames spread across the palace walls. A dragon swooped down, talons knocking over a stone tower that toppled with a resounding crash.

"Freedom!" someone in the crowd screamed, and the dragon shot back into the sky, its scales glistening a dark violet as it vanished into a black cloud of smoke.

From beside her, Antonia sobbed, falling to her knees. The chains around her wrists clinked. Octavia pursed her lips. She didn't reach down to comfort her sister. She didn't do anything. She remained unmoving, eyes fixed on the flames.

"Your turn to kneel."

Octavia looked over her shoulder. A man stood behind her, a chalky orange dousing his hands from his fingers to up past his wrists. Fire magic.

At the flick of his fingers, the flames surrounding the castle burned brighter. Octavia's jaw tightened. The man wore the red and gold uniform of the royal guard. Given how expensive and rare the fire magic was, he had likely stolen it from Octavia's personal collection when ransacking the castle. 

"Kneel?" she repeated, letting her eyes flick to where her sister was still crying. Part of her wanted to scream at her to keep quiet. Another part of her wanted to burn all those responsible for making her cry. "The princess isn't kneeling. She's grieving." Octavia jutted out her chin. "You can rest assured," she said, keeping her voice level as she raised her chained wrists. "The blood of Thalestris does not kneel."

The man scoffed his expression a mixture of amusement and disgust. "The blood of Thalestris no longer means anything to anyone."

That was a lie. They both knew it. These traitors might run Octavia's family out of their castle. They might burn their home. They might claim to usher in a new era, a new government, a new way of life, but they could not erase them. Not completely.

"If our blood means nothing," she said, turning back to study the flames, "then why do you care if we kneel?"

From above, there was a shuddering roar. The dragon had returned, a boy giving a battle cry from its back as the beast dove back towards the ground. A burst of wind came over them as the dragon's wings flapped, sending the flames flickering.

Octavia kept still, but her brother gasped from her other side. Instinctively, she grabbed his arm. It was awkward with her hands bound in chains, but she turned her body to grip him, leaning down to whisper, "Trajan, do not show fear."

Trajan swallowed hard. At ten years old, he should be playing in the gardens. Octavia wished he could have that peace. Not here. Seeing this. He looked far too small in the wake of the chaos, his lip bleeding and hands clenched into fists to keep from shaking.

"Is that dragon going to eat us?" Trajan whispered.

Octavia glanced to where their parents stood a few feet away. Neither had reacted to the violence, but she could sense their fear all the same.

"No," she answered and squeezed his arm once. "No," she repeated. "A dragon wouldn't show such disrespect. Keep your chin up. The world is watching."

Trajan did as he was told, straightening his shoulders and fixing their audience with a determined stare. Octavia felt a swell of pride. Their lives might be destroyed, but they would not lay quietly in the wreckage. From the ground, Antonia had stopped weeping, her breaths slowing. Octavia waited for her to rise, but her sister stayed frozen, fingers digging into the dirt.

The ground trembled. Octavia watched as the dragon folded its wings back, lowering its head. The boy on its back stood, raising a spear high into the air as the masses of people screamed.

For the first time since being torn from her crimson and gold bed this morning, Octavia allowed her gaze to drift away from her family and toward her surroundings. Hordes of people spread out in every direction, the masses armed with weapons. A few were focused on her and her siblings, shrieking profanities and curses, as others focused on destroying the castle.

The boy on the dragon stood high and shouted for silence.

"TODAY!" he began, and another burning tower crumbled behind him. "WE ARE FINISHED WITH THE MONARCHY!" The crowd cried out. "WE ARE FINISHED WITH KINGS AND QUEENS!" Octavia risked a second glance at her parents, feeling her wariness rise. "FINISHED WITH THE ROYAL FAMILY!"

Antonia looked up slowly, inhaling as she drew her shoulders back.

"Get up," Octavia hissed through her teeth. Antonia said nothing. A dark strand of hair fell into her eyes. "Antonia, listen to me. Get. Up."

"FINISHED WITH THE RICH DECIDING OUR FATE!" the boy continued from the dragon's back. People began stomping, clanging their weapons in unison. "THE POWER BELONGS TO THE PEOPLE! ROMANOV BELONGS TO US!"

Antonia sat up on her knees. Her dress was ripped, the red and gold tatters fluttering in the wind. Octavia felt a stab of fear as her sister's eyes glittered. "....Antonia," she tried again. "Don't. Not here. Not now."

Antonia didn't look at her, but she did stand. Relief rippled through Octavia as she watched her sister wipe the mud from her hands.

"TODAY!" the boy yelled, and despite being high above them while standing on a dragon and covered in leather armor, Octavia felt his gaze fall to meet hers. "WE ARE FREE!"

Please. So, these people's freedom would begin with her family in chains?

Romanov had once been a realm of peace and prosperity. Her ancestors ruled a plentiful land of good people. And now this? This?

Htraeh. Dualis. The Nameless Lands. Cambria.

All these places, whether country or empire, had different government systems and ways of life. Romanov was the oldest of all these places, with the monarchy being even older. Her family had built this country. They had bled and sacrificed all in the name of creating a worthy land. A land rich in resources and even richer in magic.

Any by the spirits, did they have magic.

Octavia's tutors spared no expense in teaching her the history and value of magic. How it was harvested from the elements: the wind, the sea, the earth, and fire. Some countries had an abundance of magic... others did not. Years ago, governments began to trade with one another.

Dualis gave its earth magic in exchange for Romanov's wind magic. The Nameless Lands gave water magic in exchange for Cambria's fire magic. Alliances were formed. Trade routes began. The rich got richer, and the poor got poorer.

Then wars began.

Octavia walked with a spear at her back. She focused on each step, refusing to stumble as the crowd parted. Hateful eyes locked on her, sneering faces morphing into something between sorrow and triumph at her state. She recognized some of these people. The baker who once showed her how to make the best bread. A farmer who snuck her extra berries. One of her servants she had known since birth. All people she had loved. She trusted. Now they stood there, watching her walk in tattered clothes toward a carriage that would surely lead her family to their doom.

"Trajan!"

A boy fell in front of their path. Octavia stopped, ignoring the spear digging deeper against her back. The boy reached for her brother, but Octavia stepped between them, allowing Trajan and Antonia to keep walking as the Revolutionaries pushed them toward the carriage after their parents.

"Hello, cousin," she greeted.

The boy flinched away. Lucius actually wasn't their cousin. He was their uncle's ward. A little older than Trajan, Lucius had been taken in by their Uncle Friedrich almost a decade after his wife died. There had been some disgruntled murmurs over it, but Trajan needed a friend, so it felt as though the spirits put them on the same path.

Now, Octavia was left to wonder what kind of spirits would lead him down this darkened road.

"How can I help you?" she asked and ignored another poke from the spear at her back.

"Move," the man behind her growled. Octavia did not move.

Lucius looked up at her, genuine grief playing across his face.

"We had no choice," he told her. Octavia stared at him. How could he say they had no choice? When it was their darling Uncle Friedrich who had led this revolution against them? "Trajan is my friend. Your father-"

"My home is burning behind me," Octavia cut him off, voice going taut. "Do you think I want to hear your apologies?" Lucius's fingers twitched by his side, shoulders falling. "I have no interest in alleviating your guilt." Octavia stepped around him. "You had a choice," she said shortly. "You choose wrong."