"Let's be practical for a moment, darling," she said, stepping forward towards Maria. "If you could do it yourself, or if you could without substantial risk, then this wouldn't still be a problem. She doesn't have to die. She only has to be out of the way and I can do that in whatever way you so desire. If you're concerned about things being done improperly, I assure you, I am quite professional and follow orders quite well. If you're really so skeptical I do have proof of it. She could simply find herself in a far away land with no means of return quite suddenly, or maybe she awakens to find herself in your dungeon, or she may not wake up at all. These decisions are up to you."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Amelia followed Larson down the narrow streets, easily maintaining the pace he had set. They didn't really need to rush. The search for the thief had ceased and their apartments were not far from the mayor's cook's house, but almost running made them both feel more secure. Larson looked back at her and grinned as if to say "Isn't this exciting?" She didn't smile back. She didn't enjoy running away. He saw it as the escape of a conqueror and she saw it as defeat. She was getting pretty good at losing. Oh, well.
There was another reason she hadn't smiled at her companion. She didn't know if she could trust Larson, even if he had prevented her capture. He seemed trustworthy, based on the few things she'd learned about him, but she would need to know a lot more before she decided to risk it. She hadn't trusted anyone in a while; she hadn't had anyone to trust in a while, but the last person she had trusted had been the person she knew best and that hadn't ended well. She was wary of strangers more than ever.
His last comment hadn't helped and no explanation he gave her would make her less suspicious. He had called her royalty. He had discovered her identity, it perhaps known it before she had told her story. He'd said it was just logic. Princess Amelia had been proclaimed dead around the time she had left Felicity. The circumstances had been questionable anyway. In addition, she would merit a wanted poster in a different name and anything else would have been much more believable and she had argued that no one would believe her story. He had concluded that her posture was way too good for her to be anything below nobility.
His argument might have been fair save one fact: her true identity really was as unbelievable as she'd said and anyone would be prone to doubt it even if they could guess. But he seemed to have no doubt that it was true. He'd said there was no point denying it.
"And since you're the rightful queen," he'd added before she would deny it, "You need to get back to Felicity immediately and I'm going to help you."
"No," she'd said definitively. "I'm not going back."
"Yes, you are," he commanded. "It's your duty."
"Not anymore. My sister is queen now. I have no duty but to myself and my queen. And my queen does not want me in Felicity."
"Your queen is a usurper and a tyrant. The people plot rebellion as we speak. If you do care for the people of Aaron and for your sister as well, you must go back. It's the only way to save them both."
Amelia had glared at him, like she had earlier that day when they'd meet in the alley. "I don't believe you. My sister loves the people. She would never do anything to hurt them."
Larson paused, then responded. "Didn't you think she loved you once?"
Amelia started, but didn't say anything. She turned away from him.
"Look," Larson said gently, taking a tentative step towards her. "I'm just trying to help you do what's best for everyone. You belong on that throne and you belong with your sister. The people are threatening rebellion. If you stay out of this, a lit of blood will be spilt on both sides and it is unlikely that your sister will come out of the revolution alive. Think of all the horrors that could be prevented by your return."
Amelia inconspicuously wiped a tear off of her cheek. "I don't know if I can."
Larson placed his hand on her shoulder carefully. She flinched, but didn't remove it or ask him to do so. "I will help you. You can trust me."
Even though Amelia wasn't sure if that was true, she had followed him out of the house and through the dark and empty alleyways. She couldn't stay in this town anyway. She might as well return home and help Aaron resolve their situation peacefully. And she couldn't wait to see her sister again. Her role in their separation had been bigger than she liked to admit.
"I'd probably have to do things if I was Charles Corban, but I’d also know a bunch of cool people who I could talk into doing it all for me.” “I guess it’s a good thing you can’t possibly be Charles Corban,” Charles said.
Raiden's eyes sparkled as he was handed the package of buns. Opening it then and there, he stuffed one in his mouth.
"Mmm...good buns..." he mumbled, once he had finished monching.
"Anyway! I've never heard of this place before, and I have no idea where to go, so uh...yeah. You sorta seemed like you were going to go somewhere when I walked in though, so...I'll just follow you or something. How much do I owe you?"
I'm cool as a cucumber Even if I'm in a pickle
Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the universe, or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.
Albin sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, now not bothering to hide his exasperation. With the raid that had been planned for tonight, he didn't have time to cart around a lost foreigner.
At the mention of payment, he looked up warily. "Forget it. I'll take a barter and guess that you don't carry any Shias. It's on the house."
Pointedly neglecting to comment on the young man following him, he walked over to hang up his apron and palm the keys to the store. As he mulled over what to do, a sneaking thread of an idea came to him. Having the young man follow him to the meeting, and then, possibly, the raid could benefit the resistance.
He didn't feel right about dragging this lost fellow into unwanted danger, but perhaps he could explain vaguely what the resistance was, and offer him a part in it. He only had to disclose public knowledge, and then the group would have an inside man with a perfect, built-in cover. It would cost them nothing if this boy happened to be captured. If he chose to endanger himself, of course.
"Alright." he finally answered, gesturing to the open door. "Walk with me. I'm afraid the errands I have to run aren't very mundane. How do you feel about mutiny?"
As if only realizing it, he paused and glanced over. "Ah, before all that, what did you say your name was, chap?"
"Man, these buns are too good to be free," Raiden said, stuffing his face with another. He ate quickly, and soon he had a free mouth to talk - or to stuff another bun in. As he did.
"Oh, my name's Raiden. Also, I'm cool with whatever; I just dunno what to do at the moment, to be honest," he spoke as he followed the man, buns in arms.
I'm cool as a cucumber Even if I'm in a pickle
Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the universe, or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.
Larson stared at the little sack Amelia was carrying. She pulled it further up on her shoulder and nodded.
"Yes. This is all I have. Two changes of clothes, some bread and cheese, and a few knives. I also have some rope, just in case."
Larson frowned. "In case of what?"
She shrugged and scanned her companion's baggage. He had three full bags. But he also had a horse that could carry them, unlike her.
"You don't have a horse, do you?" he asked. "So, we're walking."
"The border isn't that far away. We could make it there in a couple of days. And there is a guard post in Murray where we can get supplies. The guards won't be there then. They have Sundays off."
Larson smiled. "You know, it's surprisingly handy having a princess around. Are you sure your sister hasn't changed anything?"
"I talked to someone from Aaron at last week's market day. They said they were going through Murray on Sunday on their way home because border patrol was slack. And I'm not sure you'll be very useful if you insist on calling me a princess. The point is to avoid drawing attention to ourselves."
"In that case, we'd better pretend that we're married or something," Larson said, looking at her and searching for a reaction.
"Or I could be your sister," Amelia suggested.
"Yeah, but then guys would come flirt with you and then they'd be suspicious when you pull your knives on them. Plus, it could explain why you keep your hood down. Married women have no reason to flaunt their beauty, especially if they are poor women. They don't usually have love affairs like the rich ladies."
Amelia sighed. "I suppose I could handle being your wife for two days."
Larson grinned. "Married to a princess. My mom would be so proud."
"You'd better hope your mom will never know, because that will mean we failed."
"I'd probably have to do things if I was Charles Corban, but I’d also know a bunch of cool people who I could talk into doing it all for me.” “I guess it’s a good thing you can’t possibly be Charles Corban,” Charles said.
Sorry, guys. I 100% intended to reply back in December, and then I just... didn't. So, much apologies.
The look in the woman's eyes unsettled Maria, more than the dead boy in the corridor, more than Cecil's uncharacteristic silence. She was shaken to her core.
That woman would not bring her any sort of peace- that much she knew. She knew this was not an enemy she could afford to make. More than that, though, she wanted this woman gone.
She forced her fingers to still, her lip to stop trembling, and reminded herself that she wanted this. Maria had nearly killed to become queen. She needed this.
These lies she told herself didn't help anyone, least of all Maria, but she foolishly hoped they'd bring her some kind of make-believe courage.
"I think-" She had to cut herself off before her voice cracked under the weight of it all. "I think you need to leave."
She could do this. She had to do this. There was no way out, no choices left for her to make. She'd sealed her fate with the blood of her only sister.
"Splendid." Albin responded somewhat dryly. "I'm Albin, by the way. It's a pleasure."
He set out onto the busy street corner, not seeming to care whether Raiden could keep up or not. His mind was racing- the others wouldn't be too happy if he showed up outsider in tow, but Raiden could be very useful with what they needed to accomplish that night.
After a few blocks of dodging the business of market day and darting from the paths of carts, they made it to his destination: the clocktower at the end of the square. Albin glanced around several times before opening the maintenance door at the side and stepping in, pulling Raiden by a sleeve behind him.
Inside the first floor of the tower, they were crammed behind the stairs; hushed voices carried down from the floor above. He quickly leaned forward to hiss quietly at the boy, stress lines exaggerated on his face.
"Listen very carefully." he said. "If you want to attend this meeting, it is imperative that you follow two rules: stay quiet and don't call attention to yourself, got that? These people aren't very friendly with those who show even the slightest risk of compromising our mission."
Kirux: He stands at exactly six feet tall. He has long, messy silver-white hair that he keeps in a low ponytail. One of his eyes is a bright shade of gold, while the other is green/blue depending on the lighting. He's wearing a black jacket that goes down to his knees, a dark blue shirt, black pants and brown boots. He also has a black cloth covering the lower half of his face, and a pair of fingerless black gloves on. He's technically in his late teens, but appears to be slightly older than that.
This is him down below, and you can a vague idea of his actual proportions if you look up Riku from Kingdom Hearts.
The corridor of darkness spat him out into an empty alleyway - he had gone through it too quickly. He stumbled, arms waving about wildly as he tried to find something to grab onto. His attempts were for nothing; he went tumbling right into the ground with a somewhat loud thud. When he popped back up a second later, the corridor was gone and his eyes were brimming with tears.
That had hurt!
He let himself sit there and cry for a few minutes before getting to his feet, rubbing his wet eyes with the corner of his sleeve so it didn't look like he had been crying about falling flat on his face.
He slipped out into the busy main street. Heads turned, and his face grew red underneath his mask. He knew people liked to stare at him, but he still felt really awkward about their looks. He ducked his head down. Winnie said not to be bothered, so he was going to do his very best not to be bothered. Not having to look at their faces definitely helped!
That was when he walked right into the building.
Rubbing his forehead and stepping back as he resisted the urge to cry again, he looked up to see that the building wasn't a regular old one. It was a clock tower. His eyes widened, and he took another step back so he could get a better look at it. It wasn't anything like the one in Twilight Town, but it was still just as a cool! And as he continued to stare at it, he noticed a maintenance door to the side. He didn't think he could easily balance on top of it like Roxas and his friends did, but there was nothing to say he couldn't try!
With a little skip to his step, he opened the door and slipped inside - making sure that no one was staring at him, because he really didn't want to explain what he was doing right now.
As he cheerfully entered - already imagining what he was going to tell Roxas and the others when he saw them again - he began to hear voices. The voices made him hesitate a little, but then he realized it was probably just people like him or the people who fixed clock towers-
He bumped into two people standing near him, having not realized they were there when he entered the building. His lips opened behind his mask in a silent imitation of a startled cry as he sent all three of them (himself included) down to the ground with a loud thud.
Now to add in my second character. Let's just call him Levi for now, though that may or may not be his real name~
Levi Quinn: He appears to be in his mid-teens, with bright green eyes and neat black hair. His current outfit is a white dress shirt, black pants and dress shoes. He also has a pair of glasses on. He's on the shorter side, but not by too much.
When he arrived in the alleyway in a burst of purple particles, it was one of his most chaotic teleportations yet. He was used to tumbles and scrapes, but he had come through too fast. He went slamming into the wall right beside where he had teleported, glasses getting knocked to the ground. He took a step back as a frustrated groan filled the alleyway - Nether, that hurt! It was a good think Charlotte and her little friends weren't here; Hero would have gotten especially smug if he had seen-
There was a loud cracking sound from underneath his feet.
He slowly looked down.
Then he let out a string of very mature swears because why the Nether did he just have to step on his glasses!? Strands of darkness shot out of the ground and angrily licked the air around him, eyes flickering between green and purple.
He took a deep breath.
The darkness slipped back into the Earth, and his eyes reverted back to green. He could handle this. He would just pretend he had contacts. He neatened his hair, straightened out his collar and brushed some grime off of his pants. Now that he was satisfied with his appearance, he approached the exit...
...and quickly realized he didn't recognize a single thing.
"Kartiel," he muttered, "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."
He looked back down at himself, then at the outfits of the people walking through the streets. Hm. His outfit definitely wouldn't work in a place like this; it was time to do some petty thievery. Not that he liked the idea of stealing - he abhorred it. But a few missing pieces of clothing from clothes lines couldn't hurt, could they?
xXx
It didn't take long to put his makeshift outfit together. He even found a nice pair of shoes left out to dry in the sun - he felt especially guilty about that theft, but he definitely needed them more than the original owner did.
And it was while was getting on said pair of shoes that he overheard a snippet of an incredibly interesting conversation. He let himself hide in the shadows of a nearby building, cloaking himself in a sufficient amount of darkness to make sure no one could notice him there. Apparently, someone was a princess trying to hide her royal lineage, which, in all honestly, was a mood. There was travel, and intrigue, and something about pretending to be lovers. Totally Her Husband seemed to be a little more invested in the idea than necessary - something told him there was a bit of actual love involved there.
But seeing that he didn't know where he was, and honestly had nothing to do with literally everyone he knew off experiencing life, an adventure through a royalty-strewn land felt like a trip down nostalgia lane.
Time for a dramatic entry, because what the Nether.
He let the darkness fade away from him as he stepped out into the street, approaching the two as their last sentences died from their lips. His hair was messy, his eyes were their true, beautiful shade of violet, and he liked to think he made himself look quite mysterious for a sixteen year old wearing clothes that were never meant to be part of the same outfit.
Amelia stopped in her tracks, causing Larson to run into her. She looked the stranger up and down, lost for words. Larson stepped around her so he could see the man too. "Man" was probably the wrong word. He looked more like a boy. He glanced at Amelia.
"Do you know this boy?"
It was an unwelcome interruption for them both. They didn't have much time to get out of the country. They people from the market might still be looking for them and anyone else who saw them could report them. It was likely the whole village was on alert. But if this boy knew something, what else could they do? He seemed to know more than Larson did.
Amelia shook her head. "I've never seen him before. Stranger," she said, addressing the boy, "who are you and what do you want? Why do you call me "your highness"? I am clearly just as common as you and Gallee has no royalty."
"I'd probably have to do things if I was Charles Corban, but I’d also know a bunch of cool people who I could talk into doing it all for me.” “I guess it’s a good thing you can’t possibly be Charles Corban,” Charles said.
If only she knew just how true her statement was - she wasn’t the only member of royalty standing around and hiding her true lineage. But something told him she would have never heard of the place he had once ruled, so he let himself take up a role he was quite used to: Levi Quinn. He just needed a little tweak here or there to fit the narrative.
"You can call me Levi," he said with a tiny bow. "Levi Quinn. And it's funny that you say that, princess - while Gallee-" (wherever that place was) "-has no royalty, you're getting awfully defensive about something that could have just as easily been a nickname."
He paused - drawing out the silence so it was totally dramatic, just so they'd think he was more mysterious than he really was.
"And I guess you can say I'm just a little curious," he said. "It's not everyday that a poor old commoner like myself gets to meet royalty...right, princess?
"My buns!" Raiden whispered, scrambling to keep a hold of his buns. He managed to catch all but one of them before they hit the ground, so he stuffed one in his mouth to free a hand which he used to grab said stray bun. He then munched furiously on the bun to finish it off, before standing up. "What the hell dude! We're supposed to be sneaky sneaky here - not boom crash the sound of my-" Raiden sneezed silently while whispering his string of dialogue, but carried on as if he didn't, "-! Wait, Kirux? What are you doing here?"
I'm cool as a cucumber Even if I'm in a pickle
Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the universe, or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.
Larson nodded. "I'm Larson. I'm from Aaron, where calling someone princess is not a joking matter. They have a queen and a princess. Well, it might be more appropriate to say they had a princess."
Larson avoided looking towards Amelia, but he could feel her glare burning into his head. He wanted to remind her to be more subtle, but in front of this Levi person, a reprimand like that would only give them away. He didn't think there was any point hiding their identities from this boy. He was sure the game was up. But Amelia would keep denying it forever if she could.
"It was nice to meet you, Levi Quinn. We don't have any time to stand around chatting. We are on a very important journey, so if you don't mind, we'll be on our way."
He took the lead, side stepping their new acquaintance and Beckoning Amelia to follow him, which she did reluctantly.
"I'd probably have to do things if I was Charles Corban, but I’d also know a bunch of cool people who I could talk into doing it all for me.” “I guess it’s a good thing you can’t possibly be Charles Corban,” Charles said.
Kirux scrambled back up to his feet, feeling a jolt of fear when he realized that someone he didn't know knew his name. He went stumbling back into the wall behind him - eyes wide and terrified - and turned a shade paler. The stranger wasn't wearing a black robe, but maybe he was a member of Organization XIII! Which would be really bad, since the last time he interacted with them involved him breaking in, fighting their leader, and taking Thear back.
He made his keyblade appear in front of him in his trembling, outstretched hands, trying to keep the stranger back.
xXx
Levi took a step in front of Larson, ignoring the attempted escape from the conversation - he wasn't going to let this dialogue end so easily. "Not so fast," he said, holding up a hand in front of him. "You really are a terrible liar, Larson. The princess is standing right behind you, isn't she? She doesn't look gone to me."
He gave them a grin. It was a gamble - a big one. He had his suspicions that he was looking at Aaron's now supposedly nonexistent princess, given that Larson immediately jumped to connecting the title and the place. And considering how quick they were to make their exit, he must have been on to something.
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