KGWrites

Alyx

The Village, Spring District, Kingdom of Aldiron

The storm had taken most of the night to pass, and it had taken longer still for sleep to find Alyx. Adrenaline from nearly losing James over the cliff had kept her and Lillian up late into the night and she’d only managed to lull herself to sleep by focussing entirely on trying to help Lillian sleep by running her hands gently through the girl’s hair.

All of which added up to a very tired royal guard on duty the next day.

And tired didn’t play well with the bubbling hot anger at James that still boiled the pit of Alyx’s stomach. Alyx had never known her brother to be so stubbornly stupid before. Afraid or not.

It had been James that had taught Alyx the virtues of waiting until exactly the right moment, that had always upheld the value of patience. He’d always been cautious and careful. It had been Alyx that had caused the headaches, rushing into decisions and actions, and it had been James’ cool head and meticulous planning that had saved them from her stupidity.

And yet, when it had all gone wrong, James had thrown caution to the storm and nearly died for it. Had he even thought about what he was doing? Did it even cross his mind that there might be other ways to make their plan work?

All questions Alyx couldn’t answer. That she didn’t know how to answer.

But rather than figure that out with her and Lillian, James had decided to act. And if Alyx had been one second slower, then he’d be dead because of it.

She rubbed at her wrist absently. The rope burns from James’ lifeline still felt hot to the touch. Alyx was glad she hadn’t needed to wear her armour today, the tight leather would have irritated the burns and driven her mad.

Pushing down her rage, Alyx turned back to her duty. At least having something to do put her mind slightly more at ease.

She was in The Village, the small circle of buildings and statues that served as the religious centre of the city. Around her, a crowd had gathered, some praying at altars of the various Gods of The Village, others meeting priests and priestesses for advice or guidance.

Many though, were here to see the woman that stood towards the centre of the square. Iona Ravellan looked radiant, a beacon amongst her people. And that is what she was here to be. A beacon of hope, the Princess standing strong in the face of the enemy bearing down upon the city.

Her hair was carefully woven into long waves, pinned in places with ornate silver pins shaped like feathers. Her silver crown was placed on her brow. She wore what Alyx could only describe as a battle dress, blacks and greens that came to an intricately patterned metal neckline that spread upwards from Iona’s chest to form two metal pauldrons, like that of a suit of armour, over her shoulders. Beneath the armour her sleeves were a soft white fabric, tightened at her elbows by black cloth. The pale skin of her sternum bore a necklace of silver, in which were embedded two deep green emeralds, which to Alyx seemed to match Iona’s fierce green eyes perfectly. All of it created a stalwart princess, standing strong and hopeful amongst her people as war marched forwards.

But none of it could work if Iona herself wasn’t personifying that idealised princess the people needed right now. As she moved through the crowd, talking to people and reassuring them, Iona held herself tall and strong. So much so that the two armoured royal guards at her back seemed tiny in her presence. Her face shifted rapidly, one moment she was square-jawed, fierce and defiant, and the next she bore an easy, reassuring smile as she comforted those around her.

Alyx couldn’t hear what was being said from where she stood. But she could see the effect it was having. People approached Iona on the verge of being lost to despair and left her with their heads high and their stability restored. Alyx almost couldn’t believe it. She’d seen Iona able to work actual magic, but this was beyond any miracle that Alyx had witnessed the princess work before.

Dragging herself reluctantly away from watching Iona, Alyx returned to scanning the crowd around her for any threats to the princess.

While some members of the royal guard, like Sir Junice who Alyx could easily spot standing proud as a peacock next to Iona, were assigned to wear their full armour and act as direct guards to the princess, others were scattered through the crowd. Numbers like these presented a risk, and searching them was far harder if the threats could see a great steel juggernaut headed towards them. So, a few royal guards were instructed to wear civilian clothing and blend in, looking to react to threats more subtly should the need arise.

It had been a duty Alyx had been all too eager to volunteer to take on. At least here, out of the way, she didn’t need to worry about the fact that she didn’t belong amongst the guards.

Forgoing her armour and sword, Alyx instead wore a deep navy blue cloak over a padded brown tunic. Her hair was loose around her head, falling in soft waves. Her loose clothes hid her muscled frame well, and worked to hide the two small hatchet axes strapped at her sides. To any onlooker, she was a young woman from the Spring District, out to give worship and see the princess.

Moving carefully through the crowd to avoid unwanted attention, Alyx began a loop that would bring her closer to Iona, moving as if she was heading for the temple of The Minstrel. The temple ahead of her was set up to look like a performer’s stage at the façade of a small building, where passing through the stage curtains and into the wings would bring you into the temple itself. It was a quiet spot. The Minstrel was the God of music and revelry, of gamblers, tricksters and lovers. Not a God many prayed to when war came to the city.

Alyx came to a stop beneath the statue of the Minstrel Themselves, a figure wearing a garish dress and a wide brimmed and feathered hat. Beneath the hat sat a strange party mask, designed to resemble the face of a fox. The statue held a lyre in its hand as it twisted, frozen in the moment of a graceful pirouette. She looked up at the statue for a minute, bowing her head as if in prayer to it before she turned her head to watch the crowd again.

Iona was closer now, and over the next few minutes, her path through the crowd brought her close enough that Alyx could make out her voice as she spoke.

“Their courage inspires us all. They wouldn’t want us falling into despair and loss. They’d wish us to be strong, to defy this enemy as they did. My heart weeps for you, but we must stand together now as they did, not fall to darkness.” Iona was saying to an older couple who swallowed back tears and straightened, the man even giving a legionnaire’s salute to Iona, which she returned with a stalwart nod. Then she moved on to the next, working her way ever closer to Alyx.

It was as she passed the front of the temple, only a couple of people between her and Alyx that an old woman spoke up to Iona.

“You look ever so much like your mother princess. And you speak with the same courage and resolute heart that she did. May the Gravekeeper keep you from also following her fate.”

It was a well-intentioned blessing, Alyx knew. Like wishing for someone’s good health to remain during a period of spreading sickness. And yet, just for a second, Iona froze. Her smile fell from her face and her eyes widened just that tiny bit.

But that was enough to make the illusion falter. Around Alyx, murmurs began spreading. The life to the crowd began to fade and change as, for a moment, the princess became a normal mortal woman again.

Iona recovered quickly, forcing a smile back to her face as she reached out and took the old woman’s hand in hers.

“May They keep us all from such things. Thank you.” She said earnestly, her voice soft. But something still wasn’t right, Iona still didn’t move on. And that smile no longer felt quite right, like it didn’t fit with the rest of her face.

Alyx watched Iona carefully, taking in the tremor to the princess’ breathing, the tiny amount of panic that set in around her eyes, the way her mouth moved silently, as if whispering words of encouragement to herself. But her breathing was too fast, her movements too jerky. Iona was about to panic.

Moving quickly, Alyx pushed off the statue, pushing through the crowd towards Iona, she looked towards the two guards with her. One of them, a tall and broad-shouldered woman named Thalia, spotted her coming and nodded, clearly having seen the same in Iona as Alyx had. Thalia stepped in front of Iona, and began clearing out the crowd.

Behind Iona, Sir Reynard Junice saw Alyx coming and sneered. But Alyx ignored him, he could be petty later, right now they had a job to do.

Nodding thanks to Thalia, Alyx reached Iona and reached out, taking her hand in hers. Iona jerked in surprise, her head whipping up to see Alyx, clearly preparing to admonish the person that had grabbed her. But no words came as she saw who it was.

“Your Highness, if it pleases you, I’ve been instructed to let you know that the Minstrel’s temple is ready to hear your prayers.” Alyx said, loud enough that the crowd around them could hear. Looking around at them, Alyx also spotted two other royal guards in civilian clothes nod and move into the temple, ensuring that no-one but the princess and her guards would be inside. She offered a half smile to Iona who blinked in surprise before she nodded.

“Of course, mustn’t keep the Gods waiting.” Iona replied, then she lifted her head enough to look around at the crowd.

“Times like these are the times in which we must seek solace and comfort where we can find it. And for me, when the Minstrel’s music fills the palace halls, so too does it fill my heart. Please forgive me my own little indulgence as I give thanks for that.” She told them, her voice returning to the volume it held before, though the resolute strength it had possessed still wavered somewhat.

Then Iona lowered her head and permitted Alyx to lead her up onto the Minstrel’s stage and through the curtains into the temple. The crowd’s murmurs dulled as Iona rose onto the stage above them and instead, cheers began to ring out, first a small scattered number and then, like an avalanche picking up speed as it rolls down a hill, the voices became a roar. The chant of “Aldiron stands” echoing through the Village.

Sir Junice and Thalia took up positions either side of the curtained entranceway rather than entering, allowing Alyx to lead Iona into the building alone. They soon passed through a wooden door that Alyx pulled shut behind them, muffling the chanting from outside.

Then it was just the two of them, in a small space of long tables and benches. An indoor stage took up one end of the room and another statue of the dancing Minstrel took up the other. It looked almost like a tavern, though one set up in more of a barn than a purpose-built space.

Alyx didn’t focus on it for long though, instead she guided Iona across to one of the benches and sat her down.

“Take all the time you need Iona. No-one else is coming in here. I’ll get back into the crowd.” She said gently, turning to move to the open window at the back of the space, intending to use it to slip back into the throng of people at the building’s front.

But as Alyx turned to walk away, Iona’s hand darted out to pull her back, holding onto her hand tight.

Turning back in surprise, Alyx found herself looking into Iona’s emerald green, golden speckled eyes once more.

“Stay a moment with me Alyx, please?” Iona asked. Alyx could have sworn she felt her knees buckle slightly.

Slowly, she nodded and sat down on the bench next to Iona. The princess never let go of her hand.

Iona took a long shaky breath, then sniffled. Leaning forwards, she pressed her forehead into her palm, her fingertips curling through her hair.

“I’m sorry. I must look an idiot, freezing up at a simple blessing from the Gods.” She sighed, tapping her hand off her forehead once. But clearly whatever effort she was making to pull herself together wasn’t working.

“I wouldn’t say that. I’d say you look like someone reminded of the loss of someone they loved. I’d say you looked like a young woman reminded of grief.” Alyx replied carefully, looking back towards the doors with a shrug. Iona chuckled, but there was a bitterness to the sound.

“But I can’t be just another young woman here with them. I’m Princess Iona Ravellan, I’m a royal, a Falcon. I need to soar above it, to remain in flight no matter the wind. Because if we falter, then so do they.” Iona replied, gesturing towards the door, and the crowd beyond it. “I don’t get to be weak.”

“It’s not weak.” Alyx replied firmly, making Iona look up in surprise. “It’s never weak to miss the people you’ve lost. It means you loved them. And I’ve never seen loving someone as any sort of weakness.”

Iona looked around at her, confused. But confused wasn’t still angry with herself, so Alyx pressed forwards.

“Not a day goes by when James doesn’t miss our parents. When he doesn’t feel the pain of losing them. Yes, he keeps going, keeps pushing forwards. He honours their memory by surviving, by keeping us both safe, like they would have done. But it’s because he lets himself feel the loss that he does that. It makes him stronger, more driven.” Alyx continued, not saying that sometimes James’ protective desires went further than needed. Like throwing himself off a cliff.

Iona looked at Alyx, the anger now fading into understanding, albeit understand heavily tinged with sadness.

“You say James misses them. Not you?” She asked after a moment. Alyx sighed, chewing at her lip for a second before answering.

“I… don’t remember them. At least not the way James does. James thinks it might be because I was younger when they were killed, that maybe because I was so frightened by it I locked away all the memories. James remembers everything. He remembers mother’s bedtime stories and her smile, he remembers the way father moved and spoke and acted. Me? I remember that mother was kind, and that father made me laugh. But their faces? Specific moments with them? I have nothing of that.”

There were days when that hurt Alyx deeply. Days that her sorrow for the childhood Aaron Trident stole from her that day left her melancholy and aching for a past she couldn’t recall. And there were days when her memory came to her a little clearer, when she could see their faces and hear their voices again. But if she tried to focus, to keep those memories, they only seemed to disappear faster. Like reaching for a reflection in a pool of water, if she touched the surface, it faded into ripples.

Those were good days.

“Alyx… I’m so sorry. To forget like that…” Iona trailed off, her grip on Alyx’s hand tightening ever so slightly. Alyx smiled sadly and shrugged.

“It’s a blessing as much as a curse. I remember they were here, and that’s what matters. But I don’t relive the night Trident took them from us. Not like James does. I’m saved the pain.”

Then Alyx straightened up on the bench, a cocky, reassuring smile returning to her face as she looked back to Iona.

“But you, princess, you shouldn’t push away the pain. You should use it, like James does. And don’t hide it from people. Sure, some of them will want to see the strong princess in the dire days. But there will be others out there, that don’t want to see that, that will feel more comfort from seeing you feel as they do. That want to see you’re human just like them.” She said, looking across at Iona. Without realising it, she gently began to run her thumb across the back of Iona’s hand as she looked into the princess’ green eyes, seeing those same specks of gold she’d spotted before.

“Some of us prefer to see the strong woman underneath the crown.” Alyx finished, her voice lowering without meaning to, almost a whisper in the quiet privacy of the temple.

Iona sat in silence for a while, just holding Alyx’s gaze. No, not quite my gaze, Alyx realised, she’s looking at my face but not my eyes. Something… lower?

Then, quick as a hunting falcon diving for its prey, Iona leaned her head forwards and pressed her lips to Alyx’s.

Alyx’s mind reeled, a thousand thoughts rushing through it like a tidal wave.

Iona’s kissing me?

This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for today.

Iona’s kissing me!

Oh, gods I didn’t have anything horrible for breakfast, did I?

Iona’s kissing me?

James is going to have a complete meltdown over this.

Iona’s kissing me!

She’s gentler than I’d imagined.

Iona’s kissing me?

Wait, what the fuck?

And just like that, the moment, which seemed all at once painfully brief and an eternity long, ended. Iona pulled back, blinking in surprise at herself as she did so. Her freckled cheeks flushed with colour as she watched Alyx carefully to see how the woman would respond.

Alyx didn’t move. She couldn’t move. Her mind was rushing around in such a sudden wave of panic and confusion that it almost seemed to paralyse the rest of her body. She didn’t speak, or blink. She wasn’t even sure she’d remembered to breathe.

And slowly, ever so slowly and yet with an unstoppable certainty, the shy smile faded from Iona’s face into a sort of horrified realisation. Her eyes stretched wide, and her mouth dropped open. Like clarity over what had happened had just reached her.

“Oh gods, Alyx I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I… I don’t know what…” She stammered, panic causing the rush of words to come thick and fast, with barely enough time for the last sentence to finish before the next one collided into it.

Alyx still said nothing. She still couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened. She could only stare, still as a statue.

Iona ran her hand through her hair, her breaths beginning to come rapidly. Like she was panicking.

She’s panicking? Why the fuck is she panicking?

Alyx opened her mouth to speak, to reassure Iona, maybe even just to pull her back into the kiss. But another voice came through her mind, paralysing her the second it entered.

You don’t belong here rat. Winter District scum clinging to the boot of your betters. Do us all a favour and die in the gutter where you belong.

Junice’s voice entered her mind like a wave of freezing water, freezing her solid. She couldn’t be kissing Iona, Iona was the princess. She was Alyx Cobalt, Winter District alley cat that got lucky. This wasn’t some bedtime story told to orphans around a fire, this was real, and Alyx didn’t belong here.

“I… I’m so sorry.” Iona repeated, suddenly rising to her feet, not looking back towards Alyx. Then she crossed the room in a few quick strides, reaching the door without looking back. She only paused there for a second.

“I don’t know what came over me. Please don’t hate me.” She said, before she opened the door and just like that, Iona was gone, and Alyx was alone.

She sat there for a second more, her mouth moving but not forming words. Her heart hammered in her chest so hard she worried it might break through her ribs. Slowly, her arm feeling like it weighed the same as a horse, Alyx lifted her hand to her face, running her fingers across her lips.

It took an age for her breathing to return to normal, by which time she could hear the crowd outside beginning to move off. Clearly Iona had moved away fast. She needed to catch up. Confused and conflicted or not, she still had a job to do.

Swinging her feet under her, Alyx slowly rose from the bench.

Which is when someone behind her tackled her to the ground.

Slamming down hard on the wooden floor of the temple, the air burst from Alyx’s lungs in a gasp of surprise. One that turned to a strangled struggle for air as a thin wire was pulled tight across her throat.

Panic set in as Alyx tried desperately to breathe in, but no breath came to her as the wire closed her airways. Her arms were pinned by her sides by whoever had tackled her. All she could do was uselessly flail her legs.

Slow plodding footsteps came from somewhere behind her, accompanied by a low, horrific chuckle.

“That was so touching. A real romantic moment. I almost felt a spark between the two of you. Shame it’ll have to end.”

Alyx knew that voice, she knew it very well. And she hated it.

Spyder Xeros crouched down into her vision as it began to darken at the edges.

“Hello Cobalt. How nice to see you again.” He said, his grin feeling more like the hungry snarl of a hunting wolf. Mustering all the strength she could, Alyx spat. But all that came was a weak trail of drool that slicked down over her chin.

“Honestly, I’d live to see your skull decorate the Minstrel’s altar right now. But I don’t make the decisions today.” Spyder said, standing over Alyx. “The boss would like a word. And he’s tired of asking nicely.”

Then Spyder’s fist came down.

All Alyx could think though was a simple regret.

I wish I’d kissed her back.

Then the world went black.