Diane stared at the ticking clock.
She drummed her fingers against the glass table, waiting for her teammates to show up. The Ravens, accompanied by Thomas Hammer, were to arrive around dinner time. The reason behind her coming home earlier was the artless hope of solving the newly aroused issues. Needless to say, it hadn't gone as planned; she got intimidated by him again. She knew that Brandon’s lack of another heir was the only thing keeping the crown on her head.
It would be nice to breathe the air of the exiled for once.
In the glass body of the clock, she saw a face that resembled that of her father's, only more empathic and less calculated; the cold eyes that rested in his face illuminated her carefully molded disinterest. He used to love her. He didn't anymore. And neither did she. She wished for anger, insults, punishments, imprisonments, anything to show that she was still a Crystalian, a person who makes wrong decisions and causes pain and misery to others. The latter was obvious, so why couldn’t she feel alive? Ever since George had died, she had been feeling emptier than usual. The emptiness was friends with fear, and the fear brought along doubt. Because of the sudden grimness, she stopped keeping a knife under her pillow; she was too scared of momentary decisions. Despite all that, she had come home hoping that the castle would shelter her from the impurities. Instead, the people living in it only enforced her insecurities.
Diane suddenly jumped up. She had about five hours left before the Ravens arrived, just enough time to sort some things out. She walked out of her room and into the kitchen on the first floor. There she found the maid she had been in an agreement with ever since she was old enough to know she needed to have some of the servants on her side. That particular maid was one of her biggest sources of information (how she was able to know it all, Diane never asked) and in return, she was given one day a week off. All in all, she was one of the few people in the castle Diane trusted enough to give simple yet secretive tasks to. The princess asked for her to come to her room, and the maid did it without hesitation. Once they were alone, Diane gave her a small, white envelope without a cachet.
"Send this to Princess Naisa of Aquarius," Diane ordered.
The princess knew the maid was too curious not to open the envelope, which was why she had written nothing but a most sincere invitation to her 'friend' to visit her within a week. The timing might seem strange to an outsider, but having considered all the factors, Diane concluded that a better moment would never come. There was one more thing for her to do, one that made her so anxious she wanted to sit in front of the clock once more and waste another two hours counting rubies on the minute hand.
With heaviness glooming around her eyes, Diane made her way outside the castle. The property of the royal family was as big as a small town, making it easy to get lost. While younger, she enjoyed looking at the garden that spread in front of the castle, split into two rectangular flower fields. In the backyard were the servant's quarters, built in a half-circle that separated another flower field from a lush forest. She would spend hours exploring the forest and hiding from the guards that chased her. While there, she pretended to be whoever she wanted, and she usually chose anyone but princess Diane Katherine Hunster. The pretentious sound of her name made her blood boil even at twenty-three. And so, with little patience left, she sat in the first carriage she spotted and ordered to be taken to the city. She didn't want anyone to know her real destination, so she lied about wanting to stretch her legs which were so fatigued they slightly shook while sitting down. She watched the nature that surrounded the castle built on a steep hill behind the city of Painron. Diane always thought that the separation was to its benefit since it sheltered the citizens from the monstrosities living inside the ancient walls.
Her family was a strange one indeed. They weren't descendants of Clara Heal, she had no children, but of the cunning man who replaced her. Tobias Hunster was a powerful merchant and an incredible orator. Some say he was the best con artist to have ever existed. One time, while in his most feverish afflatus, he had claimed to be the secret son of Clara's whom she had spent her whole life searching for. The idea of 'The Hero of Justice' dying of heartache caused by the most tragic separation with her only son had quickly caught on amongst Crystalians who had demanded Tobias be given his rightful place on the throne. As the newly formed country had been in a difficult position at the time, worn out by the recent happenings, and without a ruler, the council had closed their eyes and signed a paper that cursed Diane's life.
She smiled to herself. As the carriage came to a halt, she walked out, pulling the fur around her upper body closer to her chest to keep as much warmth inside as she could. It was the middle of December, and Crystalia was famous for its blood-freezing winters. Diane cursed herself for wearing one of her gowns instead of her uniform since the water she was walking through (though the roads were considerably drier than in the morning) had soaked the lower parts of her velvet and filled the silken shoes she had forgotten to change out of. Her struggle was, thankfully, not too long. Before she had realized it, she was standing in front of the ugliest, most gruesome structure in the whole of Crystalia. As she came closer to the entrance, a young man in his late twenties bowed deeply.
"We have been expecting you, Your Majesty!"
Diane motioned him to stand up, evidently discontent. As she walked past him, she lightly brushed her shoulder against his.
"Your lady is truly beautiful."
His blood froze. "Indeed, she is, Your Majesty."
She briefly glanced at him from where she stood. "Is the crown princess as beautiful and graceful?"
The guard shivered, avoiding her eyes. "I wouldn't know, as I have never seen her."
Diane nodded. As she pushed the rusty door slightly open, she turned to him again.
"Everyone can come to a correct conclusion if only given a little push," the princess said. "I am in the minority who believe that everyone deserves a second chance." Her dark eyes filled the guard's bones with horror only the Hunsters were able of creating.
He fell to the ground, bowing his head. "Thank you for your mercy, my Queen!"
Had she not believed herself in the right, Diane wouldn’t have opened the door so victoriously. The stench of rotten flesh spread all around her. The prison had mostly been built underground as a desperate attempt to hide from the citizens of Painron the horrendous screams filling the old, stone walls. That way, they could all pretend it never existed, that they were all as holy as they claimed. As Diane walked through the dark hallway, she made sure to observe the prisoners as carefully as the lack of light allowed. Though there weren't half as many as she had expected, she was still perplexed by the number of occupied cells. The Crystalians guilty of existing came closer to the barrier separating them from their princess, gripping the bars on their side of the invisible force field. They all returned her curious glances, their interest soon being replaced by disgust. It would be a lie to say Diane didn't enjoy it. After years of having been hated by people she didn't know, she learned to turn their judgment into strength. Feeling their grips around her throat, their hatred around her heart, she rose her head high and walked past them confidently. But she wasn't a cruel person, only a victim of her circumstances. That being said, the horrible condition of the place baffled her senses, making her feel sorry for the people who spend precious time locked underground. With those thoughts in mind, she had reached her destination before she had realized it. Before her, surrounded by empty cells, in a corner colored by mold, was a breathing ball. Diane dared not come closer. Watching him from afar was enough to get her blood boiling. The Traitor had noticed her yet chose to pretend otherwise. Only when he had heard his name being called, the one he had been given as a child but hadn't used in decades, did he stand up and look her way.
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"I must tell you, Your Majesty, that I have expected you to come sooner," he said as he approached the bars. "You have disappointed me greatly."
"Having a creature such as yourself disappointed in me is the greatest compliment I could receive," Diane replied, perfectly at peace with the rotting of the air she breathed.
"Creature?!" he faked surprise. His dyed hair was starting to lose color, his nature beaming through the decades of lies. "We are of the same ancestry."
Diane smiled. "Of course we are, Timidus.”
The fake Demon laughed frantically. He let go of the bars he was holding and took a turn around his cell, seemingly thinking about something. Facing the princess once more, he said: "You take great pride in that mind of yours. If only it were as strong as you claim!"
Diane shivered slightly. She knew she had to remain calm if she wanted to get what she needed. Kyla was the one who brought him there; Diane should be the one to let him out. Dead or alive.
"You seem to know things you shouldn't. How?" Diane asked.
"A little dove told me." He came closer to the bars once more. Looking into her flaming eyes, he decided to play with her a bit more. “So, convince me.” He spread his hands as he said so. “I might just tell you if you put on a good show.”
“Too bad I am not much for dancing. But I have cut off quite a few heads.”
"My dear princess, you are quite confident for someone who couldn't remember her own name."
Diane heard a snapping sound in her ears. Around her fingers formed golden particles. Oriented around her index and middle finger, they created a small bullet-like shape. She quickly aimed at him and shot. Breaking the invisible barrier that kept the prisoners inside their cells, the bullet went past Diane's target and made a hole in the wall behind him. Too fast to be noticed, it left the Traitor in shock. But instead of backing down, he put his face even closer to hers, leaning the bars that served no real purpose, as they were far apart enough for a baby elephant to walk between.
"Little Brandon indeed," he said. "It's a shame that, out of all the nice traits you could have inherited from your mother, you ended up with Brandon's impulsiveness."
"Cut the smart talk, Timidus. What do you know?"
He smiled evilly. "Everything you don't."
Realizing that there was no point trying to talk to him nicely, Diane gathered all her strength and pushed her hands through the barrier without the guards to unlock it. Quickly, and quite fearfully, Timidus jumped backward and glued his back against the wall behind him as Diane carefully walked into his cell.
“Get out! Guards! Guards!”
Diane ignored his screams. She stopped before him and grabbed his neck with all her strength. The face that was, seconds ago, shaking from fear was now turning blue due to the lack of oxygen.
"Choose your words wisely," she said.
Timidus grabbed the hand that was squeezing the life out of him but could do nothing to move it. The golden skin that burned his neck was as tough as the sword she used to cut off the heads of his new family. He tried to say something, but her fingers squeezed his larynx too hard; the deformed words sounded more like oinks.
Suits him well, Diane thought.
As she let go, he stumbled to the ground, coughing excessively. Diane watched him fidget and scratch his skin uncontrollably.
"Talk," Diane ordered.
"They will kill me!"
"So will I," she answered. "I am giving you a splendid opportunity to atone for your sins,” she continued mockingly.
Timidus thought about her words for a moment. He looked away, her eyes being too persistent. "Well,” his comeback was interrupted by a cough. “Well, I could always leave you in the dark. I don’t lose anything here.” He said, his eyes moving between the wall and her face. When she didn’t reply he laughed so much he started coughing again. “You really are just like your father. I will give you a chance to convince me.”
Diane pulled her sleeves up and said, “Oh, will you now?”
He swallowed hard. “I am not afraid of you, Dove.”
“Maybe you should be.”
He looked into her eyes; in them he saw something he had never seen in Brandon’s, something he couldn’t quite explain. He had heard about them before, but he never believed that in them lived something so sinister and breathtaking it made people beg to be a part of her life. And he was a middle aged man; he had seen and experienced the world in its different shapes and colors. So, why did an eye such as that of Diane Hunster give him hope that a future with content was possible? “Now I understand why it had to be you,” he told her. “You truly are the worst Dove that could have existed.”
“After this conversation I might not be one anymore.” Diane said with confidence. There was a reason to the delay; she knew that Timidus would shatter her newly formed world and she would understand why she had made that decision five years ago.
“Whose side are you on?” he asked her.
“My own,” she replied.
He smiled. “Well then, Diane Hunster, do with this information what you will.”
If we take a bit of a detour and go back five years to an uneventful July day, we would see a princess standing by the window of her castle on the hill, watching the city she, perhaps, surely, loved, go up in flames. If we take even more of a detour, we would see a boy of around ten and his twin sister, both with striking golden hair and red eyes. Yes, it was that moment that marked the start of everything. Why was a Demon family living together with the Hunsters? Well, because they were the race Clara Heall had created. To rule the world. The plan was simple: the Dove and the Six would join forces with the race Clara Heal had created and help that race conquer the world. They would unite all the lands in their world and create one country that would live under the rule of Void, the Demon king. And thus, there would be peace.
“That is why they wanted you to get the Will,” Timidus explained. “So they would have proof of their ancestry.”
But everything was destroyed by a Dove who could not watch her people be killed for the sake of something, or someone, else.
“The plan was for the Demons to come a day early so you and Void could make a public announcement about the unification of your nations. Florus was to follow, then Aquarius, and once you’ve found the Swan, Iceleus too.”
But what Diane Hunster did not expect to realize was that she had offered her hand to a monster. The moment they stepped foot on Crytalian land, the Demons made sure to leave a mark so enormous it would never be erased. So, as she watched everything she had believed in burn, the princess had made a choice.
“The rest you know. You fought Void and lost. Then, for reasons to me unknown, they decided to change the plan. They would tell you to kill Void and annihilate Demons. Though I don't understand why they would still want you take the Will.”
Diane was horrified. As Timidus talked, she could see the scenes he was describing clearly. She had lived them. It was her life. Once the fog had cleared, she was convinced that every sign she had ever seen had been a mirage. All alone she had lived, empty she shall leave. Putting the fur that had fallen off her shoulders back on, she silently left the cursed cell. There was nothing more she wished to hear. Ignoring the shouts behind her back, she tried to leave without a second glance. But the Traitor was a man of various skills.
"And, for the love of God, do something about your mother if you want to live," he yelled. “You know better than I do the things she has been doing for the past few years. Why do you leave her be?”
“It is none of your business,” Diane yelled back, still shaking excessively. “Wouldn’t you like it better if I just disappeared?”
Timidus smiled, only this time apologetically. “Quite on the contrary. Now that I’ve told you everything, I need you to live to see this thing play out as it should. But I suddenly feel sorry for you, so I will tell you this: stop being indecisive. It seems that I don’t know everything and that they don’t need you anymore. For some reason, I want to see you win. Just keep that in mind, little heiress. I hope you truly have the gift that the legend talks of. If not, this land will see its last sunrise very soon."
With nothing more to say, he retreated to the corner he had been sitting in a while ago. The traitor of his kind sensed death knocking on his door.
"George Brown," he whispered. "Truly a man of many colors."