(n.) A LOW SOFT SOUND, AS OF WHISPERING OR MUTTERING OR A QUIET WIND

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VEILED BY A CLOAK with a furred hood, she strides down the narrow and dark alley by the end of the street. The hungry and poor loiter, finding shelter against the side of the buildings. Although they are desperate, they are not foolish enough to confront Thana. From the way she holds herself and the aura she emits, the townspeople can easily recognize her from a distance. Low rustles of wind dance on her skin as she ties her cloak tighter, watching as they hang their heads in scornful fear. Clenching her knuckles, she wonders how she would have lived if she hadn't been taken in by the king.

Suddenly, a pair of arms lunge around her waist, hugging her tightly. A series of gasps echo the small alley, praying and whispering of the child's ignorance. "Missus, please spare food. My brother isn't waking up, and I'm hungry." Malnourished and covered in filth, she notices that he must be six years younger than she is, perhaps around nine. Stopping in her tracks, Thana observes his boldness and a small smile creeps onto her lips. Leaning down, she slowly pats his head, watching as the child's eyes grow excited. With her hood on and the mask covering half her face, the boy reaches forward to skim the metal. Flinching at the touch, the boy smiles in return and leans in to hug her. "You're pretty, missus."

Wrapping her arms around the child slowly, she pats his back in and light and reassuring way. A few townspeople watch in astonishment, wondering if the female is even capable of kindness. Letting her arms slump to the side, she extends her hand towards him. Although she does not bother to exchange words, he immediately latches onto her. The sight of him clinging to her makes her gaze soften, "H-How cute," she murmurs under her breath quietly.

"Missus, can I follow you from now on? I have nowhere to go," he asks brightly. "My mom said that if she doesn't wake up one day, that I should try to find you. She says that you are a good person."

Reaching into her cloak pocket, she pulls out a small bar of chocolate. And ever so hesitantly, the child inspects it curiously, then breaks half of it and hands it back to her. The small act takes her aback. Despite being hungry, he is still willing to share. "Where are we going, missus?" Taking a bite, he gushes out, "It's sweet!" And adds shyly, "Missus, can I call you big sister?"

What a strange child. Her silence seems to be an answer for him. "Big sister, the townspeople are liars."

Flicking his forehead gently, he pouts, "Big sister, you don't like to talk, do you?"

"I'm meeting a friend, and he's very kind," she replies, glancing down to see his energetic nature. Living through poverty and sadness, he seems to remain full of life and positive. Swinging the shop's worn-out doors open, the potent smell of familiar herbs eases her.

"Are you blind! The shop is closed!" Shouts a rugged voice without bothering to turn around. "Damned customers," he mutters, continuing to polish jars as he whistles a melody.

With her boots clicking against the wooden floors, the child tugs at her sleeve warily. "Big sister, he's mean." At that, the man pivots and points accusingly when he realizes who she is.

His tense posture slumps, chuckling as he places down the jar. An expression of distaste makes way to her face, and she can imagine him bursting out in tears of joy. "Damn brat! Cruel girl! How dare you abandon me and return with a child?!"

A soft yet melodious laugh escapes past her lips at how dramatic this man can be. "I see you too often for you to this sentimental." And after a moment, she notices the child who stares at her as if she is a Goddess. "I forgot to ask for your name."

"Eryx!" He frowns when she nods and draws her attention back to the shopkeeper.

The man eyes him, raising his brow questioningly. "Where'd ya find this kid?"

"On the way here," she shrugs as if it is not a big deal. "He approached me and called me pretty," added Thana sheepishly. "And Alastair, stop glaring at him. You'll scare him."

The herbalist known as Alastair blinks blankly, rounding the counter. Kneeling, he faces the child and tilts his head curiously. Eryx, in return, puffs his chest outwards and crosses his arms, "You don't scare me, old man!"

Alastair splutters out in disbelief, "O-Old?!" The insult was a wound to his heart. After all, he was only twenty-four! "You know you won't be able to bring him back to the castle, Thana."

"I'm well aware," she rolls her eyes, skimming the herbs wrapped together by a piece of linen string. "You'll take care of Eryx while I'm away," declares Thana, rummaging through his backstock as if she owns the shop. "He reminds me of when I was a child."

"You still are a child, Thana. You're only turning sixteen next month," his words are gentle, but they cut like a knife. It often made her wonder why her mother left her to fend for herself. Had her mother been so desperate that she sacrificed her own daughter for the sake of survival? "He can stay, but I hope you will listen to my advice."

Every time she meets him, he urges her to find the microchip implanted in her body and flee the kingdom. However, what Alastair doesn't know is that she has found it. Placed inches below her heart, there is no possible way to remove it without killing herself. "These herbs," she stacked a few medical plants onto the counter, "And the newest stock of poisonous ones." Forbidden to speak of her frequent visits and requests for poisonous herbs, he knows of the king's wickedness. After all, in the past, he served as a Royal Knight. When he suffered a permanent injury from his legs, the king discarded him like a broken pawn piece.

"This kingdom will ultimately kill you, Thana," his voice hardens as he tries to persuade her once again.

When she arrived five years ago, Alastair was there. He was always there, watching over her. With futile tries to protect her, he watched as Thana grew detached and angry at the world. The memories seemed to haunt him. And deep down, he hoped that in helping Thana, he could somehow, relieve the wrenching guilt weighing him down. A single wish that she could find her own happiness, where one day, she would begin to live for herself. "I can't escape, Alastair," she admits finally, tossing four gold coins in his direction as he catches it with ease. "The microchip, it's below my heart."

"I had a feeling you would say that," he says, "I'm going to get you out of here, I promise. You're not meant to be a weapon." His vow is full of determination, but to Thana, they are just empty promises.

"WHY DOES YOUR GAZE turn cold and resentful when they see me?" Prince Dmitri questions, furrowing his eyebrows. His knuckles clench, trying to figure out what possibly goes through her mind. "Why don't you smile at me as you do with that child?"

Thana snaps her head, stiffly laughing, "Don't you dare touch him," she grits out slowly, making sure to emphasize each of her words. "I'll slit your pretty little throat before you can blink." Her words are not threats, and it scares him how terrifying she can be while only turning sixteen.

"I apologize. I-I didn't mean to come off ignorantly," he stumbles on his words, scratching the back of his head. Tousling a hand through his honey-blonde hair, the prince pauses to re-evaluate. "I can help you get rid of the microchip, the one below your heart." 

Although he has previously hinted of a coup d'etat, she sees this as a trap. The king must have set him up to lure her into pointless desires. And for Thana, she knows this game very well. Every faith and belief she has had about her freedom always gets crushed in front of her eyes. He yearned to see her humanity bleed out until she became an embodiment of Death that obeyed his every command. "You're speaking nonsense, Your Highness," she answers indifferently, narrowing her eyes, purposefully prodding his insecurities. "You don't hold enough authority or power to do such feat." 

The truth is painful, and the prince pales. "I'm powerless?" He grits in irritation, refusing to accept it. "They think I'm a fool, a decoration to the royal family. They say that I don't deserve the throne either," he sneers, clenching his knuckles, "All I have been told is how talented my older brothers are, and how brave they are to be defending the walls. 

"Prince Dmitri," sighs Thana. 

"No! You think I'm useless and weak too, don't you?!" Gnawing at his fingernails, she wonders what on earth got into the prince. "I'll fucking show you and everyone who looked down upon me. I'll become the absolute monarchy!" Often regarded as rational and having a prospective ability to lead, currently, all Thana can see is a spoiled prince. He has certainly lost his mind. The abrupt shift in his behaviour soothes her instead. She grimly smirks when she realizes that he will become the perfect pawn. If he shall so-heartily help her, she will use him as desired. 

Death is coming, and it will be the death of a kingdom.