Fractured Crown (Book 1: Terra)

Chapter 33

Braedon's plan of escape hadn't exactly gone as smoothly as he would have liked.

After slipping away from the event, he rummaged through various cupboards to find one of those green backpacks stamped with the letters 'BP', which he had seen a few Border Patrol carry around sometimes for what he could only assume was one of their longer surveillance trips. When he finally found one, he quickly went to work stuffing it with a bunch of food and a large flask of water he had requested the maids bring to his room earlier that day while Raena and Iris were together, claiming he was hungry – not that they had questioned him at all; the maids rarely spoke around those they served, it seemed, probably deeming it safer not to question anything remotely suspicious under Jasper's roof. He had then snuck downstairs to where he had previously noted a medicinal cabinet, filling the rest of his backpack with whatever other supplies, healing herbs and other nonsensical but hopefully useful tablets and medical instruments he could find and fit. He didn't know how long he'd be gone, nor in what state he would find Grandpa Sage, but he wanted to be prepared, nonetheless.

He had then changed out of his tux into something more flexible – a tan blouse and black trousers with his old, comfortable dark-brown boots. Then he had picked up his backpack, double-checked that the corridor outside his dedicated room was empty, and was ready to leave, when he suddenly discovered the massive flaw in his plan.

Which Border Patrol member was he supposed to stalk? Which one would lead him to the Lymphan District? He debated following any random BP and then finding his own way above ground, but other than the Tenebris Forrest, he knew nothing of the surrounding territories. He only remembered the Kingdom as it once was, the four elements united. The palace gates that had stood tall and mighty around the devastatingly glorious castle, and the private chambers that had been dedicated to the once mighty archer, Sage Slate and his only grandson.

Braedon shoved the memory to the back of his mind as he slipped out the emergency staircase and onto the front lawn, waiting in the shadows around the side of the mansion for one of the Border Patrol to return and swap shifts with a fellow co-worker. He knew that the security guard that had escorted Raena and Iris – Al, something or other his name was – would be paroling next, for Braedon had heard him complaining to another security guard about having to take a double-shift tonight due the ball, and only having enough time to return to the mansion for his utility belt and a bite to eat.

Braedon had seen the security guard leave the event, had successfully grabbed his own supplies quickly and quietly, the mansion practically empty thanks to the event held in Iris's honour – save for a few maids that continued going about their duties.

Braedon was almost beginning to think he had missed Al exit the mansion, when the entrance doors swung open, and the tanned man in his green Border Patrol uniform trudged down the front steps, utility belt strapped to his waist, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand, ready to exit.

The man gave a curt nod ahead, and Braedon noted a second man in an identical uniform, entering through the front gates. He returned his companion's nod, his eyes shifting to the sandwich.

"Double-shift?" the second man grunted in sympathy.

Al scoffed, shoving the remaining bread into his mouth in answer.

"Yeah," the returning BP sighed while the other chewed. "I feel you. Anyhow, Ignis District, Section Three."

Braedon's heart leapt into his throat. Ignis District? That was not good news. How was he supposed to get to the Lymphan District and save his grandpa now?

Braedon ran a hand through his hair. Maybe Ignis and Lymphan were within walking distance of each other? He let out a small sigh. That was a very big maybe. And not one he was willing to risk.