Bloodred Telenine
The night of the rebellion was a chaotic night for the Imperial Palace. Jolted awake in the middle of the night, Scai’s head maid, Agnes, pulled him out of the bed with uncharacteristic strength. “Agnes? What are you doing?”
“You must go, prince! Hurry, we don’t have much time. The rebels have infiltrated your Majesty’s rooms, and I fear that they are no longer here,” she whispers hurriedly, pulling him towards the bookcase in his room. “I was instructed by the Chief Magician to take you through the tunnels, but I do not know if I can trust that man.”
Agnes’s eyes reflected worry and fear. This woman had practically raised Scai from a baby. Her worried expression and graying hair reflected brightly through the moonlit window, as she mulled over her options. Still, Scai needed to see if he could do anything. He was no great swordsman, but he could hold his own against a knight or two. “Agnes, I have to go to see—”
“No,” she replied, resolute. Then with a small smile, she pulls a scroll from her pocket, handing it to the prince. “Take this and leave. Think of a destination as far away from this empire as possible. Stay safe for me. Please.”
Scai looked at the expensive teleportation scroll. How did a maid like Agnes get ahold of something that even the royals don't have? “What about you? How are you getting out of here?”
Agnes smiles sadly. “They don’t usually care for lowly maids and staff. The rebels are looking for the royals. Now, hurry, child, go!” She gives him a tight hug, ripping the scroll to activate it in his hands. “I will always think of you. Hide yourself and good night, Prince Scai.”
There was a bright light, and within seconds, the prince had vanished. Agnes took a deep breath as the loud commotion neared outside the room. As the second prince, she had hoped that Scai would grow up and do whatever he would like, devoid of palace intrigue and politics. Now, it seems as if the choice had been made for him. The door crashes open behind her, and her small, spindly silhouette reflected in front of the bright moon.
“Commander!” The rebels announced as they entered the room. “Have you secured the second prince?” Each member bowed to Agnes as she turned around to address them. Her voice steeled. “He had already escaped. Curious, as I thought I commanded for the palace to be secured hours ago.” She eyes Nul, who shook slightly at the pressure. “I will track him immediately,” Nul replies quietly.
“No need,” she scoffs. “He’s nothing but a hedonistic, spineless cretin. We have work to do. The empire needs us.”
She hoped that would be enough. Her plan to raise, manipulate and eventually kill her charge years ago had utterly failed. Love is the worst. She hoped that he would never return.
He fell into a shallow pond. Small mercies from the Gods, he thought to himself. He was dressed in his nightgown, had no identification, money, jewelry or means to speak of, but alive. A strong pang of guilt blossomed in his chest, as he dragged himself onto the marsh bank. Had the royal family been utterly annihilated? If so, who had been responsible? Imperials always had enemies, but there was no sign of an impending rebellion. The people were fed, taxes were collected, and the roads were being paved, right? And, as the second prince, Scai rarely dipped his feet into politics. He wasn’t privy to the financial or war cabinet meetings, though this meant that he was free to study whatever he wanted, and was even encouraged to travel and see the world. He knew that the Crown Prince facilitated this so that he would cease to be a threat to the throne. He rarely interacted with the citizens, and fought little in battles. The Crown Prince always needed the achievements and recognitions. All things Scai could do well without. As he wiped the streaks of mud from his face, he stared at the full moon and worried about what he was going to have to do next — survive.
