A king born to rule against the girl who lives for the fight...
Kitt Azer's story is known by many: a king's most prized son, the future king of Ilya, the elemental Elite who grew amongst the riches untouched by what his father has done to his own p...
It should have been you. You should have stayed. You betrayed your family.
Your end was the same as theirs. Join them.
Join me.
I wake up with a jolt and am slammed against the darkness of my room. Trying to steady my fast breathing, I manage to finally calm my heart from racing out of my body, slowing it down just enough so I can steadily lean my back onto the headboard without falling back onto the mattress. The voices never stop, they never quieten. And it is always Damien who haunts my nightmares. That look lost in time he had closed his eyes on that night will forever be engraved in my memory: the apology, the anger, the sadness. But now it makes me wonder if it is really my brother who cursed my dreams, or the lie I believed until only a few hours ago. If he really is alive, why hasn't he made himself known to me? Is he hiding because he is ashamed of me, of himself, of our family?
He wasn't taken away from me. He left me.
The thoughts are racing before my mind can comprehend my actions, so I let them flow whilst I find myself reaching for that box hidden beneath my bed tied with navy ribbon and taking the contents out. I change quickly in leggings and a linen shirt thin enough for me to feel the breeze of the night after I follow the entanglement of darkened corridors and finally reach the palace gardens. Knowing the timings of the guards on patrol like the back of my hand I don't have to worry if anyone will see me as I step outside and walk towards my usual spot.
The fountain is beautiful, flowing at a steady place. I focus on the soothing sound of it and feel my heart and mind slow to listen. Taking a deep breath in, I take a seat on the stone edge and place the ballet shoes on my lap and small silver box next to me. The same ballet shoes my father gave me that night, soon becoming our goodbye. I don't let the tears fall even though I knew there was no one to see this time, unlike the audience I had in the square whipping that boy.
I don't mourn only my family, but also those who I unrightfully took fragments of their lives from, and those who I will meet with the same fate bound by duty.
Slipping on the shoes, the velvet lining on my skin is a comforting touch - my father's embrace - and so I open the music box carefully and allow the song to begin - my mother's own composition. She had written that song for me when I was little and gave me the music box so that a piece of her would always be contained in it, just so I would know she would always be close by if I needed her. The notes flow effortlessly around me and my powers hum beneath my skin in response as a symphony to the sequence of moves I begin. I have been practising this routine for years after my mother's melody: the moves are mine, the shoes my father's, and...the pendant resting against my chest my brother's - stolen from his body before I left my home forever.
My family surrounded me. And as I dance on the soft tune I can almost feel them all watching me, just like they used to before everything happened.
I close my eyes, and lose myself in this feeling of a memory.
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KITT
I shouldn't be out here at this time, I shouldn't be watching her. But for some reason my eyes don't listen to my pleas and never leave her for even a second. I follow her body move so gracefully it is hard to believe she bested me in a matter of minutes only a few days ago and held a dagger to my throat. Focusing on her so intently I almost feel the exact spot I felt the sharp edge of her blade on my skin, the realisation of it sending a chill down my spine that I welcome.
Am I scared of her? Terrified. But not for the reason many would think. This fear is something greater and far more dangeorus to overcome.
Corrine is grace, she is strength, and the most mesmerising of them all she is her mask, and not the physical one she is forced to wear, but the one she crafted herself. A beautiful mix of emotions hidden behind impenetrable walls she doesn't allow to fall unless she wishes to. But whenever she does, the feelings seem to compliment her like a second skin that makes her glow brighter than the dawn after an endless night.
I lean further in the stone pillar I am hiding behind and try to depict the melody she is dancing to but with no hope, the song is just as captivating as she is before me right now. After a few more effortless twirls, pirouettes and light steps the notes reach their end but unfortunately my mind doesn't seem to register the silence nor the fact I had started to move towards her. Corrine's gasp brings me to reality, nearly making me stumble backwards as her widened eyes meet mine.
"Your highn- Kitt." Plagues I forgot about her voice.
There was no difference between her and the melody notes.
"I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to linger."
"I-" With her at a loss for words it looks like she decides on the next best thing and slams the music box closed, moving away to leave in a hurry.
"I won't tell anyone, Corrine. I promise." I say, but as she gives me one last glance back I wonder how much my word means to her.
