Fire burned, lapping at the grass and trees, hungrily devouring them.

The Queen ran, bare feet digging into the ground, panting from exertion. The heat pressured form all sides, causing sweat to roll down her skin.

She could hear, very close, the shouts and calls of Alastor's men; hunting for her.

The low, deep barks of bloodhounds suddenly rang through the air, and it was a signal to the Queen.

She stopped, noticing she was in the middle of a clearing, which was quickly surrounded. The smoke covered the night sky, blotting out the stars.

"Come with us, and you won't be harmed!" The head guard, Tavin, called out, hands held up high.

The Queen didn't believe him; she had trusted him, and now...that trust was gone.

"Traitor! That is what you are! If you want me, then you'll have to fight me!" The Queen called out, voice booming from her chest- the years of speaking to the masses helped her to gain attention.

"...fine. Men, get the Queen! Alive, but dead if you must!"

The Queen crouched down slightly, pulling out her sword from the hidden scabbard in her dress, and faced the oncoming guards.

They wouldn't take her.

They wouldn't take the bracelets.

She will make sure of that.