Broken Birth

Chapter Nine: Attacks and Archeon

Quick note: this is basically going to be the Archeon attack from Iris and Cenra from War Storm, only the timeline is a little different, the Red and Silver alliance is still strong-ish, and the events are going to unfold a little differently. Oh, and Maven is (maybeee) healed, and Cal is dead (RIP my dude).

"Mare, get the hell up!" I wake with a start, flying out of bed and lighting my hands with sparks in one fluid motion. Glaring, I prepare for an enemy attack and am met with a wide-eyed Farley. "It's just me!" she snaps. "Now get yourself into fighting gear. Now!"

"Why?" I exclaim hastily, stripping off my nightclothes. I pull on a black semi-bulletproof jumpsuit, tying my hair into a tight ponytail. 

"Because we're under attack," Farley growls, already loading her two rifles, shotgun, and three pistols with ammo. 

"From who?" God, please not Maven. Anyone but Maven.

"From the Lakelands." Be careful what you wish for. And with that, she runs out of the room, cocking her gun as she enters the hall. I rush to follow her but pause by the door. I open my wardrobe and look under my undergarments. There, hidden in a pouch, is the little, silver pistol. I grab it and the pouch, secure it at my waist, and run out after Farley. 

"Oh good, you're here," Julian exclaims as Farley and I run into the throne room. We didn't encounter any trouble in the halls and there was no one else in them, which makes me think that the Lakelands haven't entered the castle yet. 

"Are they not in Whitefire?" I pant, looking anxiously around for any soldiers in blue, or the lethal nymph royals.

"No, but Cenra and Iris are bringing a battalion. They raised the fricking river, and drove a bunch of battle ships down it. They're demanding to speak to you, me, and..." Evangeline cut off, anxiously looking to her brother. Ptolemus just gulps.

"Maven," Farley finishes with a groan. "And why are we listening to them?"

"Well, it's either that or they flood the bleeding capital, and I don't really think any of us wants that," Cameron snaps. I give her a small grin, and she returns it. Sometimes I wish Kilorn was here, but he is no fighter. He's safe and far away from here, with my family. 

"Regardless," Davidson interjects. "We can't risk our soldiers' lives if they can be saved. We must avoid war at all cost." Anabel looks outraged, opening her mouth, and Davidson presses on. "No matter what that means we must do." Julian puts a hand on Anabel's arm, and he gives her a look. She sighs, looking furious, but nods. Davidson looks to his soldiers, who nod, and then turns back to us. "Harlow, Cameron," they nod, stepping forward. They're both wearing matching green coveralls, with semi-bulletproof vests. Harlow has her sharp javelins across her back, her strawberry blonde hair in a braid down her back. Cameron has a couple pistols at her hip, her jet black hair smoothed into two tight braids. They are matching in all but color, two lethal angels of death. "Get Maven Calore down here." 

I go to the corner, lacing up my military boots tight, securing my pistol, tightening my ponytail, adjusting my jumpsuit. "Hey," Evangeline says offhandly, walking to my side and looking at her nails. She's put some sort of dark gray metal on them to form pointy, 3 inch razors. I bet they could kill someone. I bet they will kill someone.

"Hi," I huff, straightening up and glaring up at her. She's got a good 3 or 4 inches on me, not that I care. Smaller size can be all the deadlier. 

"Did you take my advice with a certain fire prince?" she asks imperiously, grabbing a couple discarded metal chairs and forming them into armor over her black jumsuit. The titanium smooths to her body, pooling in waves into impenetrable armor. Well, at least the ex-princess Samos isn't going to die today. 

"No, I definitely did not. And yes, I most certainly should have. You were right, 'ha, I told you so', blah blah blah, let's move on. We got some Lakelander butt to kick." I mutter, not wanting to admit she might have had a point about Maven. 

Evangeline laughs, tying her hair into a perfect, tight, high ponytail with a few thin strands of steel. She adjusts her boots, studding the toes with steel as well so her kicks will bruise and break bones. For the finishing touch, she creates a sword for herself, and straps it to her back. "Oh yes, we most certainly do." We glance at each other, light brown eyes meeting dark brown, and nod. It's go time. Time to be Mareena Titanos, the Lightning Girl, the Red Queen, and Mare Barrow all at once. Time to make people afraid. 

I keep my eyes on the ground as Maven is brought in with silent stone chains, dressed in a simple Montfort green coverall. I see they didn't give him a bulletproof vest. Unable to help myself, I meet his eyes. They are cold as ice, but still burning with fire. I shudder, because he has donned the mask of King Maven Calore, the boy we tried to destroy. And I really don't know if it worked. With a nod, Davidson urges Harlow and Cam forward, them flanking him on either side. Evangeline and I each respectively saying bye to Ptolemus and Farley. The latter glare at each other as we turn away, and I hope they don't kill each other before the Lakelanders get a chance. There's always little Clara, Farley and Shade's daughter and my niece, to think of. She's tucked away with my family in Montfort, with my brothers and sister and parents. All blissfully unaware of what's happening here in Whitefire, in Archeon. I wish Shade was here. 

Leading the way, Evangeline and I walk out the doors, in line with each other, a statement of equal Silver and Red. Maven, with Harlow and Cam watching him on either side, follows with his head bowed. I think he might actually be...afraid. But he masks it well with indifference, the cruel, merciless murderer everyone thinks he is. Who he might actually be. 

I keep my hands at my sides, trying not to shake. I brush the cool, metallic handle of the pistol, and I feel a rush of relief that I have it here with me. A gun is always good in a fight, no matter who it's against. 

Guns don't care what color your blood is. They'll kill you either way.