A Rebel's Capture

Chapter 1

I am roughly shaken awake.

The sleepiness leaves me immediately and I look up to my awakener, but it's too dark for me to put a name to the face. Both my curtains are drawn, and I notice that it's pitch black outside. A few of the torches have been lit, offering a warm orange glow to the back walls of my room. (Fire conjured from a Black Dungeon can burn indefinitely.) My breath catches as I hear horrific screams of fear and shouts of pain sound on the other side of my bedroom door followed with things falling and breaking.

That doesn't sound delightful, I think sarcastically to myself.

I reach my hand out to the tall figure looming above me. They take this opportunity to hoist me up and out of my bed when I'm only wearing a shift! I frantically search for my velvet robe in the dark that I know to be draped over my large, wooden bed frame, and I hastily don it around my shoulders.

"Autumn, we gotta get out of here right now— an urgent and familiar deep male voice begins.

"-Aayan?" I interrupt. "What are you doing—

"-I'll explain it later, but we gotta get to the stables first. Our family and friends are already heading there—

An abnormal booming crack of thunder sounds on the far east side of the castle, so strong making it shake. The pictures decorating my walls fall and break, and my bed creaks. I let out a shriek and don't realize that Aayan has his arms around me until he lets go. The shouting outside very briefly goes quiet but it is soon louder than before.

Before I can ask, he breathes, "Purple Dungeon magic, Fall. They're attacking us."

No. This must be a drill. Why would somebody want to attack us? We didn't do anything. Surely Aayan is only playing a part. Maybe this is a test? And yet, I know that to be untrue.

I panic, tugging on his clothing until he looks down at me. He's only a little taller than myself, but I still feel the need to look skyward.

He grabs my shoulders, and I'm almost too numb from shock to even hear him when he says, "It's the Rebels-

My mind immediately races back in time to the conversation that one of my good friends and his fiancée, Princess Eularia and I had. She told me that she had heard snippets and rumors from my castle maids and servants concerning a small rebel uprising. However, we shut the thought down immediately since it seemed scarcely credible in the least. Apparently, it was not.

I refocus on him. "—there isn't time to get dressed, so just put on some shoes."

I race into my beautifully organized closet with all its grandeur and drop to my knees in front of a long, horizontal shelf, its rows stacked with all types of shoes. I can barely see since it's darker in here, but I know which pair I'm looking for. I yank my high ankle black boots off the shelf, throw them on, and begin to lace them up. I know that on a princess, these are terribly looked down upon, but I couldn't care less the shoes I wear, and they're exceedingly comfortable as well as easy to run in without heels, as I've come to realize.

I run back out to meet my older brother—by two years, making him 19—and he nods approvingly, before shouting to be heard over the commotion outside that seems to grow louder and louder with every passing moment, "Do you have a cloak that you could wear, Fall? It'll be cold out."

I head back into my closet and excite with a gray fur cloak that clips at the base of my neck, adorned with a pretty, golden broach in the front. It pools around my ankles and now two hoods paw at my neck. I briefly think about how odd I look wearing this outfit before I remind myself that I don't and shouldn't care.

Running out into the long, torch-lit castle hallway, I collide with screaming servants and Caldian warriors carrying weapons of all kinds. A woman's elbow catches my shoulder, and someone else forcefully pushes me out of their way, sending me up against the stone wall. I accidentally bite my lip so hard in the process, my eyes begin to water, and mouth fills up with blood.

Aayan grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. His soft natured, Purple Dungeon hands turn my chin sideways, inspecting the damage. "Just the lip?"

I nod and rub a sore spot on my shoulder. "Spit the blood out, and let's go," he instructs.

I have just enough time to do so before another mob of screaming people runs past, separating us to two sides of the wide hallways. A painful fear grapples around my stomach. I try to push through the people but continually fail. Dread and despair creep down my throat; I can hardly ignore it. The more and more I'm shoved back against the wall, bruising my back over and over again, the tighter and tighter the rope of fear loops itself around me.

The deafening thunder cracks again, sounding as if it's right over my head. I wobble unsteadily on my feet, turning my head just in time to see the dust fall off the stones in the wall. A few glass pieces of a chandelier fall before the entire thing shatters mercilessly at the end of the crowded corridor, causing the screams to intensify, although this time of pain rather than fear. Broken shards only manage to land several feet away from myself.

"Aayan!" I yell as loudly as I can, but I can't even hear myself. I'm driven up against the cold wall yet again, the breath knocked from me, and thick tears spill down my cheeks. I swat at my eyes, but my vision remains blurred. I clench my right fist hard while the terrified screams throb through the air and into my head. I crouch down into a ball and cover myself with my arms as much as possible, utterly failing to block out the noise.

Suddenly, a familiar grip has me hoisted back onto my feet, and Aayan almost easily navigates us through everyone and into an empty alcove. I attempt catching my breath and watch through blurry eyes as warriors sprint past us, clad in silver armor and wearing the colors of their dungeon.

"Are you hurt?" Aayan asks, seemingly out of breath, looking earnestly into my eyes.

I shake my head and choke out words. "No, but my— I grab at my throat, "the air, it got kno— he rubs my shoulders consolingly and shushes me with an "I know, I know," but I keep going, "Aayan, there was so man—so many people," I shake my head, recalling a memory so close, I think I could reach out and touch it. "I didn't think I was gonna—I didn't know where you were and I— I stop and gulp down breaths, unable to afford losing air with another word.

He runs both his hands through my thick red hair and says gently, "Listen to me, we're gonna get you to Gathalia, alright? She's gonna help you, I promise." I nod my head in response as my eyes dry up and breath slowly returns. "But you gotta help me to help you to get there, got it? And we have to be fast."

Calmer and collective breaths fill my lungs plentifully, and I nod again, this time attentively and with purpose. "Ok," I whisper.

For just a moment, I watch the firelight from a wall sconce dance in his light brown eyes and atop the similarly colored, overgrown hair. Aayan hadn't always looked like this. Before he'd been claimed a Purple by Manojavan, he'd had red hair, like me, and dark brown eyes. The closer and closer he became to turning 16, the lighter and lighter his eyes got and the browner his hair turned. But oddly, this suited him.

Aayan huffs and runs a hand over his hair, throwing off the firelight. "You ready, kiddo?" A small grin threatens the corners of his lips.

I breathe heavily several more times before replying, "Whenever you are."