There is no such thing as a protagonist. Prophecies are falsified things to give hope to the desperate. As the dust settles at the end of the story, they will be remembered in legends, but I will be alive. Laughing at their false pride and bravery.
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2 weeks ago…
I couldn’t believe that Seraphina’s plan got us this close. But this has got to be one of the riskiest things we’ve ever attempted.
There was a very high probability of us being found out and beheaded. I nervously bit my nails as I threw a small orange into the air and caught it again. We were only halfway done with the operation and the hardest part is yet to come.
The luxurious animal fur that lined the couch I lay on felt like I was lying on a real animal, but like always, it was dead and fake. Just like people, except people get to choose what they want to be. Of course not everyone is dead and fake, but where do I live? Where the majestic peacocks laugh at the dull pigeons begging for scraps? You have to choose. But here I am, a pigeon masquerading with the peacocks.
I grabbed the orange and took a deep inhale as I stood up to face them. I buried the orange in my fancy purse. I tried to smooth out any wrinkles in my sparkly dress. It was a size too big, but when you steal a dress that’s entirely encrusted in rubies, it's too good to pass up on it. I grabbed the ornately carved golden door handle and tried to estimate its value to decide whether it was worth stealing. I tried to settle down my nerves but it was in vain.
I swung open the large doors and the sudden influx of light to my eyeballs made them water slightly. I blink to take in the scenery of a vast amount of peacocks strutting around in their best feathers. But even all the world’s riches could never satisfy them. There is always someone prettier, someone who is smarter, someone who is just better. At least this makes it easier to rob them in broad daylight.
I walked down the polished marble stairs, heels clicking with every step. As I stepped into the ballroom I felt as out of place as a raccoon in a china shop. A clear-cut slap-in-the-face of knowing I don’t belong here. But they can’t tell so I can blend in with their colorful array of feathers.
I walked around with feigned purpose until I spotted who I was looking for. They were all standing about in a group holding tall glasses of wine and laughing at unremarkable jokes. I walked over and glanced at all their gold and silver medals of honor. I cringed internally at the thought of them actually thinking that they could’ve earned something like that by themselves. A tall man with bright green hair that was cemented to his head with a mountain of hair gel glanced over at me.
“Oh there you are, we were just talking about you. You look so beautiful tonight,” he says with a genuine-looking smile.
But I know I won’t feel any remorse for what I’m going to do. I strutted over to him to look him in his snake-like eyes.
“I hope you weren’t saying anything too bad about me,” I say with a hint of mischief in my voice.
I slowly lifted my hand to him and his eyes sparkled as he took it in his. He was an utter fool to think I actually had any money, but that’s all peacocks ever think about.
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“Should we pretend to be guards?” Kieran asked, barely a whisper.
I tried to figure out if I should be amused or a little concerned by his overactive imagination.
“Oh please, Kier. Have you been reading too many heist novels again? Finding a guard outfit will be a mission of its own, and that’s only if we don’t get caught the second we step foot in there,” I replied, dismissing his suggestion.
A Nocturni with piercing blue eyes huffed from across the table.
“Why don’t we just bribe one of the guards?” he asked harshly.
A long exhale came out of my nose as I face-palmed.
“I know this might be hard to get through your thick skull Cry, but the guards already get a hefty paycheck. The warden of the prison would fire them if they got caught, so they would very likely report us immediately,” I said condescendingly.
He slammed his hands on the table, causing the maps of the prison to scatter.
“My name is Cray! Can’t you get my fucking name right for once?”
I stifled a giggle with my hand. I, of course, knew how to pronounce his name, it was just fun to mess with him.
A young Elf standing next to me seemed to vibrate with excitement when I pointed at her to continue.
“What about we-”
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I quickly cut her off and internally kicked myself. “For the fifth fucking time, Sylvain. We. Can’t. Burn. The. Jail. Down.”
I couldn’t believe that this was seriously Seraphina’s group of top confidants. But they probably think the same thing about why I was made a co-leader before any of them. Most of them have been here upwards of five years while I’ve probably only been here for less than two.
For as long as I’ve known her, I’ve been Sera’s closest companion. Always the first option to go on secret missions with her. But now that I failed her, I feel scrubbed clean of all achievements. Like I was never special in the first place. I failed her and now she’s in jail because of me.
I shut down other people's dumb ideas, my face getting sore from face-palming at all of them. But it eventually just devolved into everyone talking over each other, and any patience I had left evaporated.
Amid the chaos, I could hear the sound of two sets of shoes coming down the stairs, and one of them sounded louder than any of the shoes that anyone I knew wore. And then I could see the blue, hyperactive figure of Kaelin… with someone else trailing behind her.
“Kaelin, don’t you have to be running the stall?” I asked her when her foot met the concrete floor.
I was really hoping that Kaelin was just here to spout nonsense about some kind of butterfly she saw outside to distract me from the thoughts that were currently bouncing around my brain.
“I mean, yes, but I got someone to cover for me! This isn’t like last time. I promise, I actually do have a reason for being here this time!” she exclaimed, nearly bouncing on her feet.
The woman who was behind her looked visibly uncomfortable as Kaelin’s spiked tail pushed her toward the table. She looked a little trigger-happy with her right hand gripped tightly on the hilt of an expensive-looking sword.
Her long white coat gave me the impression that she had some money, but the large scar over her right eye gave me the impression that she was likely in our line of work.
Kaelin turned slightly to face the woman, “This is… wait, what is your name again?” She was about to open her mouth to say something, but Kaelin just steamrolled right over her words. “Ah, no time for that. All that matters is that she’s here to help us with our operation.”
I was happy to take this as a distraction from all the idiocy happening at the table. Kaelin was all up in the woman’s personal space so I nudged her out of the way to have a word with the stranger with a scar.
“Kae, let her fucking talk. She’s gotta at least know what she’s getting herself into first.”
Kaelin mumbles out some apology but I don’t particularly care for it. I was still eyeing the sword that the scarred stranger held in her hand, hoping to maybe grab it to sell off.
“So what’s your deal stranger? You look like you just blew in from stupid town,” I ask, humor lacing my words.
My words seemed to catch her off guard and it made me feel more giddy. Today seemed like it was going to turn out better than expected. But she started speaking regardless.
“The name’s Rowan. I heard you’re planning a jailbreak and I have business with who you’re trying to break out. I’ve been working as a mercenary for the past four years, so I'm not completely useless.”
The name, Rowan, set off a few alarm bells in my head. Wasn’t that the name of the mercenary that saved Kaelin a few years back? Her sword suddenly felt as far away as the stars themselves.
The scar over her left eye definitely fit with the “one-eyed” description Kaelin had given. But from what I could see she had two perfectly fine arms. Her right hand was holding onto the sword so I could see the tanned and scarred flesh. Her left arm had been hidden in the shadows the whole time so I hadn’t been able to get a good enough look at it.
I held onto the hope that she was a phony so I could steal her sword to sell off at the auction later.
I let out a snort as I played back what she said in my head. “What kind of business does someone as serious-looking as you have with a buffoon like Seraphina?”
Seraphina’s tactics were really idiotic from an outsider's perspective, but from someone who knew her thoughts as well as she knew her own, she truly was a genius. So I copied something I had seen her do before to subdue an enemy: confuse them.
I stuck out my hand to shake but put out my left one instead of the right one. Often something as simple as that was enough to throw someone off guard.
“Well, my name’s Alania. Nice to have you on the team Rowan. I just hope you aren’t expecting too much compensation from us,” I say, trying to put on a non-threatening air.
The gears in Rowan’s head seemed to be turning as she tried to shake my left hand with her right one. Her shenanigans were beginning to tire me so I lunged to grab her left arm.
My heart sinks as my skin meets cold metal. But I continue to push it down the Mariana Trench as I pull the sleeve up her arm to reveal glowing ball joints and polished metal.
She let out a sigh and yanked her sleeve out of my hand. Her coat swished as she turned for the door and I realized that I might’ve majorly fucked up.
“Hey wait! Where are you going?” I yelled out to try to fix this, “I was just checking if you were the real deal. You wouldn’t believe how many people have tried to scam us.”
The entire swear word dictionary ran through my head as I held my breath waiting to see what Rowan would say. My nerves settled down slightly as I could see the thoughts passing behind Rowan’s eyes.
“Kieran here has told me before of the exploits of the one-eyed, one-armed mercenary. Not many other people have an arm like that.”
Luckily Kieran stepped in and took the spotlight away from me. In this lull in the conversation, I studied Rowan a little more closely.
The eye that wasn’t blinded in the past by some unknown accident was a bright teal color. Her dark hair was tied up in a short ponytail behind her. She was considerably taller than me, maybe around 5’10”. None of the scars covering her hand or eye were any strange color so her blood was likely not a very vibrant color.
To avoid staring any longer, I jumped back into the conversation.
“We are all outcasts too. You don’t have to be someone you’re not any longer,” I assured her.
It didn’t seem like Rowan was going to leave any longer, but my nerves were still getting to me.