The ground was drenched in blood.

Where dirt had once been firmly packed together, it now squelched with every step. Octavia's head was spinning, trying to process the past hour in whatever way she could. One second, Dainn's blade was at the base of her throat, and the next, she was on the ground with chaos exploding around her.

Banners waved above, the blue of the revolution rising above and her own family's crest resiliently waving a few feet away. Seeing it had almost felt like a dream up until Staël ran up to her.

"Octavia!" she called out. "Royalists are here! You need to-"

Whatever else she might have said was cut off by an arrow exploding through the front of her chest. Octavia's breath caught. Horror trickled through her as the blood spurted over her face. Staël's eyes flickered a few times before falling forward.

That's when the fighting truly began.

Octavia knew there were Royalists still fighting in her father's name - lords and other noblemen who did not want to see the fall of the monarchy. She hadn't given much thought to what these battles looked like or where they were taking place.

But why were they still fighting? Friedrich had murdered her father to put a stop to the Royalists. Were they still fighting for Trajan's right to rule?

Or maybe Octavia was the reason for this carnage. Had the Revolutionaries found out she was here and come to get her? Had the Royalists come to save her?

"Help!" she yelled. Pieces of the circus lay in tatters around her. The tent disintegrated in flames as patrons screamed in terror.

Octavia pushed aside the fear buzzing through her veins. She stumbled over the body of a large multi-headed snake toward a man in black and red. A Royalist. "Please," she coughed. There was the clanging of metal alongside screams of pain. A few screamed horrible battle cries that pricked her skin as horses whinnied. The sounds of battle carried over the chaos of the fractured circus, animals desperately trying to escape cages and performers trying to hide from the violence. "I'm Princess Octavia of Romanov," she managed when the soldier turned to her.

He stiffened, mouth dropping when he saw her. "Your majesty?" he asked, looking her up and down. Octavia nodded. The katars felt heavy on her wrists. She wasn't even sure she could use them if attacked. The Royalist looked at her, clearly horrified, before looking around. "You're alive," he whispered. "Okay. Okay, let's get you to-"

His head was gone.

Octavia almost tripped as she stepped back, too stunned to react as she processed the glint of a blade.

Her heart beat so violently it hurt. Nausea was caught in her throat. The Royalist's body stayed upright for maybe a moment before collapsing in front of her, revealing Friedrich standing with blood stained across his face.

Not the best news.

"You're alive," he greeted, eyes narrowing. Octavia raised her katars. She already knew they would do nothing to block Friedrich's new weapon, which looked like a sword about three feet in length and three pounds in weight.

Another Royalist cried out, launching himself in Friedrich's direction. Friedrich turned, easily deflecting the hit.

Part of Octavia wanted to stay. To help fight Friedrich as this Royalist who so valiantly fought for her family, but the more logical part of her refused. She wouldn't win.

Hating herself for being so useless without her magic, Octavia ran. Her legs burned at the movements as she jumped over debris and fallen bodies. She hit the ground a few times, trying to avoid wayward arrows or flying daggers.

If she had magic, she could fight back. Her hands ached at the reminder. Frustration mixed in with the fear as she looked around, trying to find another Royalist she could run to, but the bloodied movements around her made it hard to identify anyone with the overcast sky above. A thunk sounded beside her, and Octavia turned to see a man gargling blood as he stumbled to the ground.

She crawled away. Why couldn't she breathe? It felt like she was drowning in the violence around her. All she wanted to do was lie down and scream until everything disappeared.

A shrieking noise caught her attention before she could consider if that was a viable option. 

From inside a locked cage was the siren from the performance earlier. Or at least, she thought it was. She couldn't really see it clearly. Only glimpses from where Octavia was on the ground and the occasional hand reaching through metal bars.

Octavia looked around. To her right was a clear break in the fighting. What were her chances of running through unnoticed?

They weren't good, but they were better than just standing here.

The siren shrieked again.

Octavia had a better idea. She turned back to the cage. It was tipped over, with wheels to the side and a large piece of tarp on top of it. Octavia ducked under it, looking for the door. She felt the lock against the ground jam. Swearing, she tried to pull it free. The metal remained resiliently in place. Maybe she didn't have a better idea. Maybe she was an idiot and just condemned herself to death.

Grunting, she yanked the metal some more, the edge of it digging into her skin until it sliced open her palms. Taking a long breath, she pulled again, mustering whatever strength she had as the clanking and screams continued. With one final heave, the hinge gave, popping open.

Octavia pulled open the door as much as she could, squeezing between the small opening she created and pulling herself inside. The siren hissed at her approach, but Octavia shushed it, climbing further into the cage.

"Stay quiet," she whispered into the back corner, yanking the siren down. "Escape if you want," she added, pointing to the small gap in the door she had created. "But they can only see us if we go near the bars."

The siren paused as she spoke, looking at her with silent curiosity as Octavia nestled to the ground and pulled out a flat piece of metal that had broken off the side of the cage. She pulled it over her like a blanket.

"It will protect us from the arrows," she said, gesturing for the siren to join her.
It didn't. It sat there. When Octavia blinked again, it was gone.

"... couldn't you have done that earlier?" Octavia muttered. A wave of paranoia rippled through her. Had she just done something stupid? Was this siren about to expose her whereabouts? Did she trap herself in a tiny cage to be more easily murdered?

No. Octavia had given survival a valiant attempt. Running through a mass of fighting, arrows and murder was no way to make it through when she could be recognized on sight. She just needed to wait here and then escape whatever dangers awaited when the fighting was over, and the winners of this battle went home...

If anyone went home.