It's Pretty Damn Efficient

All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around, and I've found

Being forced into a mold you were no longer suited for, it felt cramped. Cutting back on her skillset, being forced to re-learn and rely on things she had studied, lived, and breathed for so long.

Why now, why did this have to happen now of all times?

That's what she thinks, as she holds a sabre in her hand.

"You're swinging too hard!" Her instructor fumed. "This is a sword for fencing, not whatever you've been doing in the guard!"

Athanasia rolled her eyes, readjusting her position and trying again.

The emperor seems to be either ignoring or refusing Athanasia's request to go back to her usual routine, ignoring her past hobbies and job. She attempts to jab her opponent, just for another scream of anger to erupt in the training area.

Sighing, Athanasia readjusts her position once more.

~

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~

Sitting in a lone cage, is a beautiful blue bird. It's a bright shade of cerulean, surrounded by flowers. There's a small note at the bottom of the cage, written in expensive ink, in the most unreadable cursive ever. The cage itself is a beautiful alloy of gold and some other mineral, metal vines and flowers decorating it. 

After a good 5 minutes of deciphering the note, Athanasia comes to the conclusion that this bird is a gift, symbolizing goodwill from the Alpheus Manor.

She clicks the cage open, offering her finger for the bird to rest on. She takes it out of the cage, and watches as it warbles a beautiful, empty note. 

And oh, what a beautiful song it is. 

The bird seems tired, and Athanasia walks over to a window and opens it. The bird tilts it's head in what appears to be a "thank you," before spreading its wings and flying out into the world beyond.

Athanasia watches it go, before turning and staring at the luxurious cage the bird was placed in.

A cage is still a cage, she supposes.

~

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~

Athanasia's getting the hang of fencing. Her movements are nowhere near graceful, and she's toppled over like a newborn deer while trying to change her posture halfway through a strike, but her instructor has stopped pulling her hair out.

So, it's progress.

She nicks herself using the sword, and hisses in surprise. That's not supposed to happen, is it?

Athanasia turns to face her instructor, and sees that she's gone pale.

She doesn't see that teacher again.

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~

Athanasia receives a new instructor, and she doesn't bother to ask what happened to the old one.

He's a bit stricter but understanding. Carefully helping her adjust her form, telling her gently how to grip the sabre, and helping her understand how hard she's supposed to jab. He has a calm, collected tone-

Athanasia finds this more helpful, actually being told what she's supposed to do instead of being screamed at for doing something wrong.

Yet she cannot help but miss the noise.

~

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~

There's nothing left to say, Anastacius believes.

He's been abandoned, essentially. Left alone for days on end, the only indicator that his kidnapper remembered his existence was the maids' bringing food into his room.

He wonders how Roger is doing.

Anastacius can feel whatever amount of sanity he had slipping away, like white sand in the palms of his hand. He can hold onto it desperately, but the fine grains will slip through his fingers and join the other madmen before him.

~

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~

Lucas stares into the room where Athanasia, the crown princess, the guard, is being kept.

She's reading, although her attention seems to be drifting off most of the time. Lucas watches as she catches herself, frowning, before shaking her head and attempting to focus.

The flooring in her room is a cold marble, in a tile-based pattern. The ceiling was made to look similar, the difference being the golden flecks embedded into the ceramic. Large, lavish pillars were holding everything up, carvings of roses and other floral.

She groans in frustration, slamming her head down onto the desk.

Lucas hums. There are windows covering every inch of the walls, letting natural sunlight flow into her room. The stained glass has a wire frame around it, and Lucas can't help but notice that it resembles a cage.

No matter how big, how expensive- a cage is still a cage, he supposes.

~

the ball will start rolling soon, I promise.