Anarchy

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CHAPTER 10,
"BRUTAL."

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❝When beggars die, there are no comets seen; the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.❞

— William Shakespeare,
Julius Caesar

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Cool air brushed hair across Anna's exposed, collar bone as she leaned against a tree in the courtyard, dark eyes watching the kids dancing on the balcony. Fireworks erupted above, and she smiled softly as they all looked up and cheered before dispersing. She took a sip from the glass in her hand.

"Hey."

Blinking, she looked over to find Carlos leaning against the bark next to her. "Hi."

"You okay?" he inquired, eyes flicking down to one of the many bruises she had acquired and the ruined dress.

"Just a few bruises and scratches. Broken ribs," she nodded. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Sorry we weren't much help in there."

"I'm glad you weren't. Too brutal."

The two stood in silent for a moment, observing the princes and princesses mingle and the calming wave of peace. Mal still stood on the balcony with King Ben. She turned to say something to someone over his shoulder, looking incredibly happy.

"It's not over, is it?" Anna queried.

Carlos looked over at her, "It could be. Ria can come to Auradon, and they'll lock your dad away again."

The girl ran the pad of her middle finger over her thumb's nail, recalling the claws that had replaced them hours before and what those claws had done. Rianne would leave the Isle, come to Auradon, and face the same blistering anger she did.

"What if she can't handle it?"

"Hmm?"

"My sister. What if she can't handle the shift? It's — You have no idea, Car. There's just this — this awful feeling in my stomach at the slightest thing — Don't get me started on the sensory overload. What if she can't take it? What if she chooses to go back once she's here?"

"She won't, A. It'll be fine. You'll see."

Nodding, Anna took another sip of her glass and tried not to shatter it in her grip.

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A part of her feared they would leave her there. After the fight they saw with her father, she mighn't blame them. The way she had clawed out his eyes, she had had a nightmare about it the previous night. Instead, it had happened to her. All of her strength had been sapped from her; she had lost her ability to move, to fight. Her father had towered over her like the shadow in her room and dug her eyes right out of their sockets. Anna had woken with a start.

It's over, she kept telling herself. It's over.

She swallowed, poking her head about a cement corner. It was odd how naturally it came, sneaking around the Isle and ducking in and out of the shadows. In a way, it seemed more peaceful than Auradon. It felt like home, which bothered her a little.

Reaching the dumpster, Anna pushed it away and slid into the trap door. Down the slick rungs and onto the grimy floor. The hall was dark, a flickering, fluorescent light the only thing marking her path as she walked to her sister's room.

She gently knocked on the door, "Ria?"

There wasn't any response.

"Rianne?" Anna pushed the door open and gagged.

Even without the superior senses the Isle usurped, the smell was already strong. Stronger than it had been the last time she had known it.

The werewolf let out a cry and stumbled away from the door.

Rianne, the dear sister that she had left to protect, was dead.

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