PROLOGUE: EMPIRE RUNAWAY

– POV: LYRE, ONE YEAR AGO –

(WRITER: VEN)

“You are to listen to me. As always.”

Lyre grimaces, standing stiffly in the formal suit he’d always worn to these kinds of meetings. Chaos, his father, the emperor of the Blackstone Empire, stares down at him.

There’s a table. For meetings. Not like either of them are going to sit, though. Chaos never sits. Lyre’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, trying to hide any internal conflicts that bubble beneath the surface.

Because, God, he’s terrified.

Lyre’s tail-tip twitches. Chaos’ eyes flick to it for a moment and then narrow, and he steps towards his son until they’re inches apart. Lyre bites down sharply on the urge to back away as fast as possible from the armored emperor.

“Are you having doubts?” His voice is commanding, intense, and Lyre winces every time he hears it.

“No,” Lyre says, voice shaking. God, he’s going to screw this up. He’s going to get yelled at again, or worse. His ears lower, his tail curls involuntarily around his legs. “I’m not.”

He is, though. Chaos had brought him here for new orders. New orders for the first time in years. Lyre was supposed to scout by No Man’s Land, the country that had recently “freed” itself from the Empire in a bloody war.

One that cost Lyre’s mother her life.

Distaste curls on Lyre’s tongue at the thought, and something writhes beneath the surface of his anxiety. He pushes it down just as quickly, though, as Chaos stares at him.

“You are a one-man army. You have nothing to be afraid of.” The Emperor’s voice is sharp, harsh. Lyre winces again. He knows this isn’t entirely true, though … as efficient as Lyre had been in the war, as strong as he was …

Well. He wasn’t exactly a force of nature. Just a strong soldier.

“Of course,” Lyre whispers instead. “I – I understand. May, may I go – now?” He adds onto the end, shifting from foot to foot, tail flicking. He can barely meet Chaos’ eyes.

There’s suddenly a glint and a blur of motion and the whoosh of air as something sharp swings past Lyre’s shoulder.

THUNK!

The end of Chaos’ massive battleaxe sinks into the hard floor next to Lyre, inches from his feet. The voidfolk hybrid, fur bristling, freezes completely. Okay, wrong choice!

“Don’t be a coward.” Chaos sneers at Lyre, and then yanks his axe out of the floor, hefting it over his shoulder. He stares at Lyre for a few more moments, and Lyre stares back.

“... But yes. You may take your leave.” The Emperor turns with a flourish of his cape, and Lyre lets out a long breath of relief, immediately turning to scramble back towards his room.

—

When he reaches his room, Lyre finds himself fighting with more anxiety. Impulsive thoughts race around his head, and he thinks of his mother, Allium. What would she be doing in this situation?

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Lyre – doesn’t want much to do with No Man’s Land unless he has to. Unless there's a good reason to go near it …

He swallows. His gaze darts to the sword on the wall.

Lyre’s life in the Blackstone Empire has been getting worse by the month, by the week, by the day. Chaos seems to get more irritable every day, and he cannot keep together for much longer. Maybe – maybe if he just …

Lyre paces over to the sword, grasping the hilt and yanking it off its resting place on the wall. He’s used it many times before, and he’ll need to defend himself where he’s going.

Where he’s going?

It’s in that split second that Lyre decides – he needs to leave. Chaos had given him survival courses, right? Surely he can live out there if he wants to, and he wants to, he wants to get away from Chaos and the Empire.

Lyre grips the sword tight and slinks towards the door, creaking it open. He slips out through the opening and begins to make his way down the hall.

“Prince Ambrosia! Where are you off to?”

The voice of a guard. Lyre stiffens, and then looks back at them. Then – in a moment of impulsivity, he sprints.

“What – where are you going?! Are you –”

It won’t be long until the alarms are sounded if they figure out what he’s trying to do – escape. Get out of here. Lyre’s pace picks up as he streaks through the halls of the castle, shoving past various residents and guards as he does so.

His breaths come heavy as he presses on.

—

Lyre bursts out through the front doors of the castle and sprints through the courtyard. There’s a forest, between the Blackstone Empire and No Man’s Land, he can – he can go there, he can’t go farther he might die in the wilderness –

His pace picks up. The woods are good for hiding in.

Eventually he reaches the outer wall and bursts into familiar-unfamiliar territory, streaking through the air like a dying star. His path is aimed for the forest in the far distance.

Thunk!

An arrow hits the ground just inches from him. He knows it’s laced with sleeping potion. He switches up his path, darting between buildings and various other cover as he heads for the forest.

More arrows fly, but Lyre is already halfway there – he’ll reach the woods soon. He will. He’ll be under the cover of the trees and the undergrowth and the plants –

—

Lyre finally hits the forest after a long while of running, and slips between the trees, hearing more arrows hit the trunks of the trees as he does so. The glow of magical torchlight shines in the distance, and Lyre goes deeper.

He presses through the undergrowth, unfamiliarity with the territory causing him to make some racket. Lyre bites his tongue. It’s fine. He’ll get better at this!

Soon enough, he’s run far enough that the torchlight is beginning to fade. He breathes out a long exhale of relief, collapsing in a clearing that he’d happened upon.

How convenient … this area is large, open … maybe – maybe he can stay here. Maybe … he had learned how to build, so maybe …

No, he needs to rest first. Lyre sets his head in his hands, exhaling a long breath. His tail curls up around him as he considers what he just did.

If he went back now, Chaos would practically kill him, he’s sure. So he’s stuck here. For better, or for worse. Squished between the Blackstone Empire and No Man’s Land, both places that he didn’t have a particular fondness for –

What if scouts from No Man’s Land found him? Lyre freezes at the thought, anxiety spiking. The Empire would be looking for him … No Man’s Land wouldn’t, but if they found him –

Lyre vows to stay as secret as he can, in that moment. He heaves another long breath, and curls a little tighter.

This is – it’s going to be hard.