The great exodus of people fleeing from the city was chaotic and left many in confusion as to what was actually happening. The general populace hadn’t been fully evacuated into the safety of the castle walls before the fighting broke out and very soon the entire city was besieged and surrounded by the invading army. Many thought to simply surrender and do as they were told, and those who did were allowed to survive. As for the citizens who were nothing but loyal to the crown and their rulers, their bodies were simply tossed onto the growing pile.
Caught up in the chaos and frantic actions of the people was a traveling herbalist who had only just arrived into the city in the hopes of peddling their wares during the celebrations. Viiolet was not a native to the land of Camelot or even of Albion and had traveled a far distance to be here with hopes of meeting with the king once he had arrived. Now with everyone and everything in turmoil and the future of the kingdom in question, she didn’t think she was going to get that talk.
Pulling the hood of her travel cloak up and hiding her fiery red hair as best she could as to not draw any undue attention, she did her best to blend in with the crowd of people attempting to leave through the front gates. At first it looked as if she'd be able to leave without any problems, drawing closer to the exit. It was foolish of any of them to think that an invading army would let any amount of the citizenry just up and leave.
Soldiers had already taken up positions along the walls and exits, pushing back any who sought to flee for their lives. Any who pushed back was quickly silenced and Viiolet was not about to have her journey end so abruptly. She quickly broke away from the main road, away from any searching eyes in an attempt to find an alternative way of escape. That is when she saw a trace of energy, a thin thread weaving its way through the air. Magic? Here? But why? She knew that the queen of Camelot was from Avalon as well as having served as the high priestess at one point, but magic wasn’t something widely practiced in Camelot as people still tended to shy away from it.
Reaching out to touch the thread, it coiled around her wrist and held tight. She felt a slight tug against her being, as if the magic itself were wanting to lead her somewhere. Who was she to argue? It wasn’t like she had very many options at this point, and so she followed the thread through the winding alleyways of the city.
The sounds of conflict slowly faded away and any realist will tell you that it wasn’t due to Camelot’s victory. Viiolet needed to get out of here but the thread of magic she was following had begun to lead her in the direction of the castle. Did she dare to continue along this path? It was leading her in the complete wrong direction, and yet…
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Rounding a sharp curve, she felt the thread give a violent pull as she watched two cloaked figures dart from wall to wall. One was far larger than the other and seemed to be acting as a point man. They weren’t doing a very good job of staying hidden, it was just lucky no one was back here looking for anyone suspicious. Viiolet was about to turn and ignore the thread of magic that had been pulling her towards the two figures, until she saw a flash of the smaller one's face. You didn’t need to be a local to know the unique features of the prince’s face, it was hard to avoid given how well known his beauty was throughout the kingdom.
“I see, if that is to be the way of it, I am not one to argue.” Following the two figures through the town was a simple endeavor, the two had obviously never had to sneak anywhere all their lives and it showed. They were loud, conspicuous, and so very out of place. It had been a couple hours since the fighting had died down which meant the opening of escaping was getting smaller and smaller. Where were they going? Viiolet was entirely new to the city and its streets but even she could tell the direction they were heading in was going to be a dead end. A rush of concern and fear flooded her as the two men came up to one of the exterior walls. Were they going to climb it? The wall looked smoothed and well cared for. It didn’t look as if there would be enough hand and footholds to scale it, especially with how frail the prince looked. Viiolet just realized that, compared to the much taller and bulkier figure, the prince looked like a frail and dainty flower. He looked nothing of what would be expected of a prince of Camelot. Surely it was an act or the dirty cloak was giving him that appearance, surely the prince wasn’t as weak as she now saw.
The sound of scraping stone pulled Viiolet out of her thoughts, quickly refocusing on the actions of the two. The prince had placed a hand against the stone wall, pulling it back now and leaning against the bigger man as the stones of the wall began to shift. The sound would obviously echo through the empty streets which would call anyone nearby to investigate. After a minute or two the stones had settled and revealed an opening out of the castle town with a direct path towards the forest. “Oh...It would seem the Pendragons have secrets of their own. Though I hadn’t known of any in the royal family of being practitioners…aside from the Queen.” The figure Viiolet had pegged as the prince now collapsed to his knees after the magic had subsided. The larger one kneeling down and hoisting him into his arms before sprinting towards the woods. The thread of magic that had wrapped itself around Viiolet now tugged stronger as the two grew further away.
“I came for the King and now I must follow after the fallen Prince.”