The Fallen Throne

Chapter 22. 1 ✦ Unravel

LANCASTER

His very first instinct is to check if the princess is fine. He turns, expecting to see her, but what chills his blood and sends him into a shock is the fact that she isn't there.

"Your highness!" Lancaster calls, nearly choking on his own words and the thick haze. Using one arm to cover over his nose and mouth as he desperately attempts to ward off the haze with the other to no avail, he begins advancing slowly, but to where, he is still clueless.

As the haze settles all around his surroundings, he notices it isn't really haze. It is definitely thick and heavy just like haze, weighing down upon him, but it is rather clear – translucent. When he stretches his hand out into it, his hand is barely visible, but still undeniably there, shimmering in the mist.

What is this somewhat beautiful cloud of blur? It is even capable to act as a medium for a rainbow to form.

Hallucinations? That ought to explain the fact that he's all alone, despite Alaina being right by his side only moments ago.

But to prove that he is, he needn't go as far as to pinching himself. Lancaster can trust his senses, namely his sense of smell alone, that this is real – the haze is choking him.

Supressing his coughs and trying his best not to inhale the haze, he begins to call again, "Your highness! Alaina!"

Either his skills and experiences he's obtained and accumulated all these years or his sixth sense saves him next, because he jumps to the right just as a sword flings his way. As Lancaster regains footing, he draws his own sword, too.

A blurred battlefield is disadvantageous.

Despite so, Lancaster makes out a shadowy figure several feet before him, and pair of boots from the little space under the haze, where the haze is floating only inches above the floor. The shadowy figure takes a few cautious steps, as if he's aware of Lancaster, too, and is equally alert and on guard – Lancaster watches curiously as the figure hesitates.

Few deciding seconds later, the figure emerges from the slight blur, and Lancaster breathes a sigh of slight relief.

"Clyde. What is happening?" Lancaster speaks cautiously, not wanting to take any chances on the haze.

"Thank the Saints, you're all good, Lancaster," Clyde says as he walks over to Lancaster with his nose and mouth covered with his free arm.

"I am fine." Lancaster frowns. "But the princess –"

"General Trajan is missing as well." Clyde mirrors his frown.

"Wait, what?" Lancaster stops short as they were just moving around to try and see what is going on at the podium from where they are, behind the stands. "Is he not by your side just before this happened?"

"Yes, he –"

He is cut off by a loud bang, and shouts; Lancaster and Clyde freeze on their spots as their heart beats resonate within their ears and thump loudly in their heads, blood rushing in their veins.

They shoot each other a quick glance, and without even speaking, they know what's on the other's mind. They sprint straight out into the now hazy podium in the centre square of the Kingdom of Theia, armed with their swords as they watch each other's backs, just like the old times. They both only draw small breaths, being extremely careful.

Where the haze floats only inches above the ground, bodies lay motionless on the ground – no different from an eerie graveyard covered in mist. As Lancaster squints his eye to look into the slightly translucent haze, people are struggling as they cough and desperately reach out for their loved ones. More bodies pile with each passing second, and he is unable to tell if they are alive once they drop to the ground.