Secrets of the Crown Assassins

07

INDIGO

A single light flickered, sending obnoxious yellow shards across the walls. Whenever I rested my hand against the cold steel floor, my palm came away covered in years worth of thick dust and dirt. A cockroach scurried across my line of vision.

My prison cell had a solid steel door instead of bars, probably because it wasn't even a prison cell. The Rebels didn't have the time or money to build a special cell for prisoners, because they weren't expecting to have very many. They shoved me in a forgotten room instead, one in the underground tunnels where I could smell the grime seeping behind the walls.

But this was nothing compared to the horrors I envisioned. After all, there were no corpses of my father, no voices of my mother, no rising and endless waters.

Still, I couldn't help but laugh at how my fate had flipped. I could remember visiting my mother so clearly, could feel the frigid air biting against my skin, could smell the uneasy clean scent mixed with the stench of rot which mixed into nauseating fumes. I could hear the weak breaths the other prisoners took as Death took its time to slowly suck the life out of them, throwing them in years of agony, hoping they would someday fade away. When I saw my mother in her cell, her scraggly figure only a faint image of what it once was, I wondered if I would end up next to her, persecuted for conspiring against the Crowns.

The Crowns found out I was conspiring against them, but they weren't the ones to entrap me. They were the ones to let me free, let me run and ignored my existence so I could leave my past behind. Instead, I was chained by the people who promised to set me free, the ones who I could call my friends in a place I thought I could call my home.

And they had the right to do so. I was born and raised amongst the very people who oppressed them and yanked justice from their bare hands. But I had done so much to prove I wasn't an assassin anymore. I walked among them, wore their clothes, hung my head down and made sure I wasn't disturbing them. I did show them my father's daggers, the ones with the rose inscribed on the hilt. I didn't fight or kill anyone, even in self-defense, since the day I joined. And yet, they still refuse to accept me as one of their own.

What else would I have to do to prove my worth? How much longer would it take until they would learn to trust me, if ever?

And how the hell am I supposed to complete my task from Wolf while I'm rotting away in a cell?

Surely, it was the only way to prove myself trustworthy. Even if I was let out of the prison and found innocent, the rest of the Rebels still wouldn't accept me. I would be guilty in their eyes. I needed to gain their trust by proving my innocence and bringing the killer to justice.

I laughed, the sound hoarse as air scraped against my dry throat. Just over a year ago I was resolved to win the trust of the Crowns, and here I am, resolved to win the trust of the Rebels. I wasn't trying to use the Rebels as I was the Crowns, but wasn't it all one and same. I needed the Rebels trust for my own selfish reasons—to get revenge on the Crowns. Wasn't that why I wanted the Crowns' trust too?

And, in the end, I failed. They played the cards the entire time, made the moves as I scurried across the board looking like a fool. They walked away, unscathed and smiling, as I failed at avenging a girl who didn't deserve it. I lost two friends, one who was always there and another who was long lost family all along, to the wretched Crowns. And, even worse, I was one of them. I was related to wretched Arielle and her father, the one whose blade was buried deep into Axe's heart.

I scratched at my skin, just thinking of the blood running through my veins. I didn't deserve to carry the Fluor last name, the one my patient, kind father carried. I wanted to be him when I grew up, but I wasn't his to begin with. I was the daughter of a madwoman and heartless monster. And even though I carried my father's name for so long, even though I followed his footsteps so carefully, I couldn't turn into him anymore. He was dead.

That was the legacy I was left behind. Dead, mad, and heartless.

So which would I become?

The sound of footsteps followed by a girl's voice tore me from my cruel mind.

"Open up," the girl commanded the guards posted outside my door.

"We're not supposed to open the door to anyone."

"You know me and I'm asking you to open the door."

"We don't care who you are, and even if we did, we all saw the way you defended the traitor when they were locking her up, Raphaella."

"Then I guess you would like to explain to Wolf and Laine that you're the cause for the hold up."

Silence.

Nydia sighed. "Fine. You can follow us to Laine's office like the creepy stalkers you are."

There was a brief pause before a grunt and the sound of a key clicking into place. The knob turned and Nydia came into sight. She stepped in the room and inspected me as I curled up in the corner, head drooping, eyes weary.

Nydia stood straight, her smile warm and frightening, dark hair half tied with strands falling out the sides of her olive face, her bow and arrows strapped to her shoulders, a glass of caramel hot chocolate in her right hand, the straw in the corner of her mouth and half-chewed. She waved as if we were long lost friends running into each other at the coffee shop, and I spotted the dried blood speckled over her fingers.

Though I wasn't quite sure what sinful deeds she'd been up to that resulted in the blood, I was happy to see her again, looking unbothered and more like herself.

"You look happy," I remarked.

Without missing a beat, she responded, "Thanks. It's a facade."

Perhaps it was because I hadn't heard a kind word in days, but I burst out laughing. I placed my hands against my stomach and trembled with pure thrill until the dust rose around us and tickled the back of my throat. I coughed, trying not to put my dusty hands over my mouth and inhale dust again. Nydia shoved the hot chocolate into my hands and I took a sip. The sweet flavor and rich texture was a nice change from the plain water I was given the past few days.

After finishing almost half the glass, I handed it back and looked up at her.

She grinned. "It's time."

"For what?"

"The ridiculous trial which could lead to your imminent death or a life of boring imprisonment that we most definitely cannot financially afford."

I struggled to my feet and Nydia made no move to help which I appreciated.

"Fantastic. Let's go."

The "Toxic" cover by 2WEI fits Arielle perfectly, from the villainous action music and lyrics down to the gentle/soft ending and you can't change my mind.

And I know these first chapters are a bit slow, but trust me, from the end of the next one and on, it's gonna be a ride =)   (I purposely used the scarier smiley face to indicate evil laughter)