Lines of Violence

03

(Note: this story is rated mature and at the end of the chapter there is NSFW content, nothing too graphic though. Enjoy the chapter <3 ) 

.

Leona's departure from the Thirteenth was nothing short of a celebration. The beloved daughter of their commander setting out to secure an alliance with the Fifth (securing a better future for all of them) was a matter to be exalted. Leona's dappled mare tossed her mane, impatient to be off. She turned around to glance at her home one last time - eyes lingering on the vines climbing ancient walls and the roses that bloomed in full force.  She gave her horse a gentle nudge and off they went, Gaspard riding silently beside her on his stallion. The rest of his posse followed behind, ever indolent.

Flower petals carpeted the city's path as they rode, the crowd tossing handfuls of from their woven baskets. Fathers lifted children onto their strong shoulders for a better view. Gaspard flicked his wrist and showered the people with coins, the gold caught light and glinted like gilded rain. The crowds would sing of his generosity, but Leona would remember the coldness in his eyes, the harsh line of his lips. They did not even speak that morning following last night's interaction, much less acknowledge each other's existence. 

Moments later they reached the gates of the Thirteenth, impressive things that shone blue in the morning sun. Her parents were already standing their in their formal outfits, the sapphires on their rings winking every now and then. Leona descended from her horse, grace lacing her every movement. Tears did not well up when she hugged her parents goodbye, knowing fully well they would arrive at the Fifth a few days later for the wedding. She highly doubted she would cry even then... Some things could never be forgiven; flashes of memories: glass windows broken, white curtains stained red. A steel bowl of rotten fruits and the fourth of winter. That terrible helplessness, the taste of stale coffee bitter on her tongue——

No, she would not lament leaving them. She would only lament leaving her home.

She let her father smooth her hair, barely listening to the words he said. She merely nodded and hugged him back to appease their public image. Gaspard was there by her side, quiet and stoic as always. He only moved forward to respectfully kiss her mother's hand and firmly shake her father's. "Rest easy. I will take care of her," he had said. Leona almost laughed at the absurdity - but what else had she expected besides lies and veiled acts? 

They parted from Leona's parents, stepping to the side. The curious crowd drew closer when Gaspard motioned with his hands and shadows sprouted from his fingertips, murmuring and spectating at this foreign power. The guards formed a barrier, stopping them from approaching any closer.

He glanced at Leona when the shadows twisted in the air to form a frame. And sure enough a humming noise started when the framed space turned orange, swirling as the telltale sign of a portal. His look was a silent invitation- "shall we?"

Leona tightened her hold on her horse's reins and watched as Gaspard stepped into the portal with his stallion, swallowed by orange. 

Her feet wanted to run and her stomach twisted, but she steeled herself and followed after. 

She never turned to look back.

.

.

.

The sound that greeted her the second she stepped out the portal was deafening.

Section Five. Home. Hell... She was finally here. Whatever she decided to call this place, she would be here for the rest of her life (darling girl, there are no miracles here).