Alethea's hand slipped from Arin's as the crowd surged forward. She stumbled, desperately trying to regain her footing. The chaos swallowed her whole, faces blurring together.
"Arin!" she shouted, her voice lost in the din.
Panic set in as she scanned the crowd, searching for Arin's familiar figure. But he was nowhere to be seen.
Alethea pushed through the throng, dodging elbows and shoulders.The village square was a battleground, soldiers clashing with resistance fighters. She narrowly avoided a stray arrow, her heart racing. She swiftly moved away from the battleground, determined to find Arin.
Alethea's feet barely touched the ground before she was encircled by menacing figures. Their faces were cold, calculating, and unforgiving.
She tried to run, but they were too quick. The men closed in, their movements coordinated.
Alethea drew her sword, but it was a futile effort. The attackers swiftly overwhelmed her, their superior numbers and strength rendering her defense useless.
In moments, they pinned her to the ground, her sword knocked from her grasp. One of the attackers yanked off her hood, exposing her face.
"Ah, you're quite the prize, aren't you?" one of them sneered, his eyes raking over her features.
Alethea's heart sank. They weren't after her supplies; they wanted her.
The attackers swiftly relieved her of her sword, dagger, and backpack. They rummaged through her belongings, claiming her food, water, and medical supplies
As they plundered her gear, Alethea felt a surge of anger and humiliation. But beneath those emotions, a new sensation began to creep in – fear.
She had never been in a position where she was at someone else's mercy. The realization sent a shiver down her spine.
One of the attackers, a burly man with a cruel grin, reached for her. Alethea snarled, baring her teeth.
"Get your hands off me!" she spat, struggling against her captors.
The attacker's face twisted in anger. He slapped her, hard.
"You'll pay for that," he growled.
Alethea's head spun, but she refused to back down. Her gaze locked onto the attacker, a fierce determination burning within,she spat blood from her split lip,her eyes flashing defiance.
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With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she bucked her hips, trying to dislodge the attackers weight.
His grip tightened,but Althea's legs were free. She hooked her foot around his ankle and twist, using her hips to flip him off.
She sprang up, evading his blows with quick footwork.
She landed precise kicks, targeting vulnerable spots. The attacker roared, enraged, but Althea's technique kept him at bay.
Noticing there was a little distance between her and these men. She proceeded to make a break for it.
She sprinted forward,her heart racing. Freedom was so close,just a few strides away. But the attacker recovered quickly, his companions closing in. A hand grasped for her shoulder.
Alethea dodged, but another attacker seized her arm, spinning her back. Afist hurtled towards her jaw, sending her stumbling.
Alethea's ears rang. A second punch to the temple sent her crashing to the ground.
She felt warm liquid trickling down her face.
Blood.
Alethea's vision blurred, colors bleeding together. Her body crumpled, unconscious.
....
ARIN'S POV(point of view)
I glared at Kyrios, my mind racing. How did he know my true identity? "I'm no prince," I said, trying to sound convincing, but my voice threatened to betray me.
Something about Kyrios made me put my guard up. I'd been suspicious of his intentions from the first time I saw him. Something about him was unsettling.
Kyrios's eyes gleamed with amusement, clearly entertained by my attempted deception. "Deny it all you want, Prince Arin," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I know the truth.
I gritted my teeth, irritation flaring. "I don't know who you're looking for, but I'm definitely not that person," I said, feigning indifference.
Kyrios's smile never wavered. "I can recognize you, even in the midst of thousands, millions of people. Your face, your build, your mannerisms – they're unmistakable. Even in the dark, even in the darkest void, I will definitely recognize you."
His voice sent a shiver down my spine, its unsettling tone making my skin crawl. I felt creeped out, like an insect was crawling under my skin.
I turned to escape his unnerving presence, but Kyros was relentless, his footsteps mirroring mine.
"Prince Arin, son of Prince Nida the First," Kyrios said, his voice echoing behind me. "Last heir of House Leonidas, ruler of Everia's golden age."
I gritted my teeth, frustration mounting. Why wouldn't he leave me alone?
"Descendant of the great King Tharius, conqueror of the Eastern Provinces," Kyrios continued, his words dripping with emphasis."Prince Arin, Prince Arin, champion of the Red war.
The mention of the Red War struck a nerve. Memories flooded my mind, and I lost control.
"Shut up!" I snarled, drawing my dagger and pressing it against Kyrios's throat. "Leave me alone!"
Kyrios didn't flinch, his eyes locked onto mine.
Flashback:
The Red War raged on, and I stood amidst the chaos. Blood-soaked battlefields, screams of the fallen, and the weight of command bore down on me.
I spotted Lyra, my childhood friend, amidst the carnage. Her golden hair shone like a beacon, and her voice rang out, motivating the soldiers.
She fought with unmatched ferocity, her dazzling face smeared with blood.
As I watched, momentarily distracted, an enemy soldier struck me down.
I fell, defenseless, as the soldier raised his sword for the killing blow.
Lyra came out of nowhere and strike down the soldier, killing him. She lentme a hand up.
"Are you okay, Arin?" she asked, her eyes locked onto mine.
I nodded, still reeling.
Back to the present:
I stood, dagger still pressed against Kyrios's throat,my eyes blazing with warning.
"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice low and menacing.
Kyrios smiled, his eyes gleaming with an unnerving light.
He leaned down, his breath whispering against my ear.
"How would you like to have your throne back, Arin?" he whispered.