Randomness oneshot / short story

Untitled

AN: This is so short compared to the previous chapter, shake my head. The weird symbols are Greek and all this is just me pulling strings around, none of this is related to actual Greek mythology! You will be confused at the start so here is a short summary of the AU...

When a royal comes to age (aka 18 years old), they will be granted a title from a priestess who has been blessed by Uranus (Sky Father) and Gaia (Mother Earth), the two greatest deities. If a royal has been named Untitled, he or she will be degraded to a commoner since royals are believed to be blessed humans by the gods and require a title. 

Okay that should be all, have fun!

"It must be a joke right?" the youngest prince stood there with his hands up in the air as the royal guards surrounded him in the grand hall. "Mother dearest must be joking!"

"The Queen, never ever jokes." The captain of the guard stood behind the ring of guards surrounding the helpless prince glanced at him with disgust. "Accept your faith, Untitled."

As if it was a signal to the guards, they pushed closer, tightening their formation. 

The boy squeezed his eyes shut. His end neared, and he couldn't fight back. All the reckless efforts to help the rebellion in the capital that was fighting against his stepmother were in vain as death was quite literally an inch away from him.

As the captain of the guard started his countdown, he whispered his final useless prayers to the God who never heard his prayers. He had to at least pray that the rebellion would succeed even without him.

The boy looked up to the ceiling with tears in his eyes. The mural of an angel that had been painted on the ceiling looked at him with mockery as the blades drew closer.

It was then, he felt light. He was falling. He watched the mural grew further away. 

What was going on?

He fell through the hole in the ground, cut perfectly to not be able to fit any of the royal guards and only himself.

He fell to the ground, the impact making his legs crack loudly and buckled beneath him. 

His vision blurred from the pain, but before his vision turned black, he saw a girl dragging his limp body away from where he fell as the royal guards recovered from their shock and start to prod at the hole to widen it.

He woke up in a soft bed in a small room. The room was dimmed, so he could not really see much of what the room had. He sat up and attempted to move, but realised that his legs had been bandaged in a splint.

"Don't even try to move," a voice from his far right said. "If you don't want to damage your legs more."

He turned to see the girl that had pulled him away. It hit him like a brick when he finally registered what she said. The important thing was not what she had said, but how she had said it.

She had just spoke in Erilian. The language of the rebels.

He panicked. He could write, read and understand it but when it came to speaking... he was a lost cause.

"W..hat?" he uttered as best as he could in Erilian. 

The girl smiled, satisfied before switching to the common tongue.

"Welcome to the rebellion, prince." she snickered. "But you aren't a prince anymore are you?"

The former prince sighed at the memory of his stepmother's orders of his execution.

"An execution for the lack of a title is weird," he admitted. "From my knowledge, I should have been degraded to a commoner instead of being executed."