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He just wanted to be normal. Let those damn Conduits take him away; as long as he wouldn't have to come back.
Tonight would be the night. The night he had planned for ever since he saw the Conduit. The night the only real person he knew was take...
TW - descriptions of murder; blood; mutilation (yikes that's quite bad for a first chapter. shouldn't be as bad going forward ^^)
Third person POV
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Six minutes before midnight. All excluding the guards should be sound asleep in the castle. Drew isn't one of those asleep tonight.
The oldest trick in the book: stuffing inanimate objects under the covers to appear as animate. One of the many large pillows on his bed have been haphazardly tucked in, hidden by the comforter.
The guards had a map and schedule. There were specific times and places they would rotate places, and those times and places were crucial to Drew's escape plan.
He also knew where all the emergency bombs were. And he knew what he needed to set them off.
Each guard had access to a sort of key that would set off a small area of warning fireworks around the castle and villages. Once seen or heard, most guards on duty would go toward the area. The prince didn't know how the keys were triggered, but he assumed he could figure it out.
That is, when he was able to confiscate it. He noticed how the keys were never exposed, kept hidden from the notice of the unsuspecting eye. He'd never be able to take it from any guard alive.
And the only substitute would be executing a guard.
He waits next to his door until the signal is heard. A pair of footsteps, moving away from his room to the other side of the hallway, far enough for this to work.
He gently turns the knob, the door effortlessly swinging open. He knew he had less than a minute until the next guard would march in the halls and would spot him, so he quickly dashes behind a corner. Luckily, the lights are dimmed at night, which makes hiding in the shadows much more effortless.
The guard walks on a steady beat, stopping right at the doorway. Drew readies his bow, aiming the impact point of the arrow directly at the chest.
He lets go, the arrow flying through the still air.
Bullseye.
The guard lets out a distressed yell, falling to the floor. Drew gets up, glancing around for any sign of alarm. No one notices.
He clutches his chest, presumably trying to put a barrier to the blood flow. As the prince advances the wounded soldier, he notices him reaching within his battle fatigue. He knew what the man was doing. And he was not going to let it happen by any means.
Drew kicks the arrow protruding from the chest, and the guard lets out another cry of pain. He lifts a boot and rests it on the head of the guard. He nearly goes still, his breathing erratic while Drew's remains heavy.
"Give it to me, or I won't hesitate to kill you."
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