All Of Us - Part 1: Summer

Chapter 17 - Confrontation

Ah-Knu... Dæor stared at the map, his head between his hands. How in Lassheso could they take it ? It was in an impossible location: the village was perched on top of a hill, and overlooked an empty expanse of fields. It would take a while to get from the forest to the village's outskirts, maybe giving the Guards of the area enough time to arm themselves. Was it a risk worth taking ? On top of all of that, the village was fortified and right next to the castle. He huffed, exasperated. "Why would Brin choose such a place ?" he wondered out loud. "He's trying to get us killed, that son of a--"

Knock knock knock !

The sound echoed in the cave that held his makeshift office. "What ?" he barked. The door opened to a crack and a slightly anxious Aline peeked in. Before she had time to open her mouth, he growled: "Why have you abandoned your post ? You're supposed to guard the Princess, ? Where is she ?"

"She is here."

Princess Evangeline moved to stand in the doorway, dwarfing the already-small Aline. In a couple of strides, she reached his desk. "I need to talk to you," she explained, her gaze unwaning. He didn't reply at first, unsettled by her disheveled appearance. Her dress, the same as the one they had kidnapped her in, was more brown than white, its fabric ripped and torn. All in all, she resembled more a Serv than a royal. And yet she still stood in it defiantly. Her back was rigid, her fists closed, her entire stance ready for a fight. And her eyes... Her eyes were flaming scarlet. The Princess was definitely a royal, and she wasn't there just to talk.

"Well, speak," he muttered finally, looking back at the map. He was slightly disgruntled - her appearance had thrown him a wee bit off balance."Haven't got all day, you know." Evangeline, out of curiosity, sent a stray gaze in the map's direction. Intensely aware, Dæor noticed and snatched the paper away. "State your business," he repeated. This time, he looked at her squarely. Menace rumbled low in his voice. "Let me remind you that you still are a prisoner."

It seemed as if she hadn't twitched, but the muscle in her jaw gave her away as she clenched her teeth.

"Alright. I-" she hesitated, and looked back at Aline. "I would like to speak to you alone." A cloud passed over Aline's face as Dæor's features darkened.

"What do you mean, alone ?" He laughed, a short laugh that sent shivers along Evangeline's skin - it reminded her of Dame Camelia. "You are a prisoner. That means that you are far from a position in which you can make demands." His voice pitched even lower as he added: "Be thankful that you're still alive." The comment only seemed to stoke the fire in her eyes. "Alone. And then I'll leave."

"Aline. Take her away."

With a nod, she complied. Grabbing Evangeline by the arm, Aline tugged her elbow towards the door, but the Princess refused to budge.

"No. No, I have something to say to you, and I will say it."

Dæor got up and smoldered at the prisoner as his chair clattered to the floor. "Then fucking say it !"

Evangeline shook her head. "Alone."

The leader of the rebels opened his mouth and was about to roar out another reply, when he reconsidered. She really seemed determined...

"Aline."

"Yes, Dæor ?"

"Get out."

Without being able to mask her surprise, the rebel headed for the exit.

"And close the door behind you."

It slammed shut. Without bothering to sit back down, Dæor directed his dark, dark gaze to Evangeline. He stayed silent, but his message was clear: "Speak".

All of a sudden, cold sweat started to run down Evangeline's back. None of this was planned, really. It was a crazy idea born out of the ruins of her mind castle. Would it hold ?

"Well, I..." She stumbled and tried to find her words, trying them on for size and then discarding them. None described well enough the feelings swirling from the debris.

"Damn it, speak !" He was mad now. He was mad.

"I am visibly trying to !" she spat out exasperatedly under her voice, avoiding his gaze. The sound of a sword being drawn out of its sheath made her look up.

"What did you just say ?"

Dæor had his legendary sword Shadow in his hand. The weapon filled Evangeline with awe - and a whole lot of fear. "Repeat it," he ordered in a calm voice - whilst holding out his weapon in the Princess' direction. A wave of nausea rolled over her. What was she doing ? How could she ever survive this ?

In the corner of the cave, a torch flickered. It made Evangeline look into the perfectly polished blade, and what she saw there made all her thoughts stop. A wild girl - unbrushed hair, disheveled dress. Anything from now on would be of her doing. Not of the Court's, not Dame Camelia's, not the King's. Hers. Otherwise, she would never be able to look at her reflection squarely again.

"I said, I am visibly trying to," she answered, just as posedly. "Dumbass," she added at the end, a daring and ever so slightly crazed glint in her right eye.

Dæor didn't even try to answer that. He just sprung up and landed on the desk. Towering over Evangeline, he held his sword up so that it glinted in the firelight.

Despite every single thing her instincts told her - do not get closer to the guy with the weapon - she slammed her palm on the desk and used it to leap on the table. Both were taken by surprise by her move, most of all herself. He looked at the ground, trying to understand how a gaunt prisonner could do such a thing. Yet eventually, he did look up to gaze at her in the eyes. And in them, he saw two things: anger and his own reflection. Which were the same one thing, really.

He had lowered his weapon by reflex, but now he regretted it. Swords don't work well in situations like those - the table was tiny, and it was a small wonder that they both fit. With a growl, he reached for the dagger in his boot. But she saw, and with lightning reflexes, she closed the meager distance between them to knock his hand away. He looked at her furiously. How could she... He clenched his teeth. He couldn't kill her. But he could do this... Using his two palms, he pushed her shoulders and she stumbled backwards, almost falling off the desk. Her lips pushed back in a grimace of rage, she hurled herself at him. She came with speed, and only stopped herself when she really got in his face. He had to look away. "Hey, Dæor, you know what ?" shesnarled. "Fuck you." And their eyes met.

At that moment, history paused, gazed on at the scene, and then shifted its course. As red met black, their worlds flipped over and collided, all at once. Their gazes locked, adrenaline pumped through their veins, leaving them full of exhilaration and out of breath. No. Breathless. The kind of lack of air that leads to you to wonder if you could ever take another breath again. Their minds kept spinning into space, spiraling away, desperately blank. As soon as they grabbed hold of a thought, a single thought, any thought, and leaned on it like a foothold, like protection against whatever this was, it slipped away, leaving them floundering, falling, spinning away. Something rustled in their chests - their hearts were shedding their stone blankets. It was as if a veil had been lifted, and they were finally seeing the real world for the first time in a very, very long while.

The torch in the far corner of the room quivered, snapping them out of it. A moment went by before the Princess finally spoke.

"I want to become a rebel."