Alethea

Alethea hugged her knees to her chest and bit her lip to prevent her sobs from escaping. They were precious, she told herself, moments of sorrow stolen in what little time to grieve she was allowed while she was alone, and she refused to waste them on Rahien. He thought he could beat her, thought he could get her to cry and take her power for his own, but she refused. It was hers to give and hers alone, and he would not have it.

Decisively, she wiped her eyes then stood and looked herself over in the mirror. Her blue eyes were as clear as ever, and showed no sign of tears; her pale blonde hair remained up in its braid, not a strand out of place, and no sign of her grief showed on her pale heart-shaped face, which she carefully adjusted until her expression was blank. After that, she drew herself up to her full height- 5"7, and though she was a little tall for her age, she used it to her advantage. It was hard to be respected at the tender age of sixteen, even if she was the rightful heir to the throne, and her height made her seem a little more imposing and a little older, which helped immensely. Checking that her bearing was proud and elegant, she opened the door of her chambers and stepped outside, closing her eyes for a moment and taking in a breath of fresh air before strolling slowly towards the garden. Rahien had not won today, and he would not win any other day, she told herself. But deep down, she knew it was a lie.

Her sorrow was a powerful thing, capable of bringing a grown, hardened warrior to his knees in tears, just as her joy could cause a heartbroken maiden to sing and forget her trouble. Her emotions were tidal waves that swept any unsuspecting swimmers out to sea, and if she kept them in too long, the dam she had built around herself would break, and they would rush out of her, roaring and uncontrollable, and one day, Rahien would push her too far, and he would have her power. It was only a matter of time... She knew what she had to do. She needed to escape.

She stopped a servant as he passed her. "Summon Athrati to my quarters immediately."

The boy nodded, and then scurried off. She turned around and returned to her room, locking the door behind her. She opened the trunk at the foot of her bed, and moving aside the stacks of clothes, pulled out an old cloak and pair of workman boots, along with a small tin of soot. It had been a gift from her cousin, Thalim, who was fond of sneaking out under the guise of a commoner to play in the streets. He hated being of royal blood, and preferred to live by his own rules, and the street life suited his desires. His mother was often mad at him for coming home dirty and scratched, and his father reprimanded him constantly about reputation and his influence on his younger siblings, and of course, on his duty as heir to the throne of Gilomai, the neighboring kingdom. Thalim had meant the gift as a joke, and a minor defiance to his parents' wishes, but it would serve her well tonight.

There was a knock on her door. "Who is it?"

"Me, your highness." came a muffled voice.

Alethea cracked the door open just a bit, and then opened it wider to allow her maid entrance. "Athrati, you said once that you could get me out of here, if ever I needed it. Can you do so tonight?"

Her maid paused with her hand hovering in front of the lock. "Are you sure this what you want, mistress? Once we leave, we cannot come back. You know little of what the outside of the palace is like, and I do not know if you will be able to adjust-"

"I need to take that risk, Athrati. I am aware that this- these walls and riches and servants ready to do my bidding is all I have ever known- but I fear I will break soon, and Rahien cannot have my power. If he has it, he will become a worse tyrant than any that has ever existed."

Athrati nodded once. "Very well. Give me your hand."

Alethea looked at her maid carefully. "Why?"

"You must trust me, Alethea, if you wish to escape tonight."

Athrati had been with Alethea all her life; had played with her when they were both children, had comforted her when she was hurt; she could be trusted. Alethea offered up her right hand, palm upward. The other girl took out a small pocket knife from the folds of her dress, and made a swift incision in Alethea's palm. Blood welled in her hand, and quickly, Athrati slashed her own, and then placed it in hers, muttering a spell under her breath. When she finished, she released Alethea and said, "Now you are one of us. You are an Encaciani."

Alethea's eyes widened in shock. The Encanciani were the most feared rebels in Xilai. "You-"

"I would never harm you, princess. The Encanciani want no more than to have the rightful ruler on the throne- someone who can do the job properly, and do what is best for the people. You are that person."

Alethea looked at her palm. An image of a sun and moon was all that was left- there was no sign of the earlier cut. The symbol of an enchantment, and the Encanciani.

"Will you fight alongside us?" Athrati asked.

Alethea nodded. "I will."

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A/N: Hi guys! Do me a favor and click that little vote button over there? I'm entering this in the Young Writer's prize short story competition, and starting midnight August 17 GMT, all votes count towards the winner! Help me out and spread the word? Thanks guys!

~S