Thankfully, tonight was a full moon. Marcia wasn't afraid of the dark, but she'd rather take the path to the castle knowing what creatures are accompanying her, rather than getting surprised by them. Wyrms and dragons, panthers and griffins – each tended to roam at night, which meant that sight was pretty important.

Especially if she was going on her own.

She couldn't stand sitting idly while the kingdom teetered on the brink of war. Adrian was refusing to do anything. Every time she asked, he would say something like "We're not ready" or "I can't risk it" or "Stop trying to rush in, Marcia, there are lives on the line."

It was driving her nuts.

Not to mention that she couldn't stop thinking about the boy from the bar fight, with the red hair and the concerned eyes and the nice smile...

If he died, it was her fault. Well, mostly Adrian's, but she couldn't help but feel guilty. So she was going to visit the castle.

She wasn't going to break him out, she told herself; she would just see what had happened to him, and what was going on with the castle itself. Maybe Ariel would have some inside intelligence, or maybe she could figure something out by herself, but if she could bring some important information back to Adrian, he wouldn't be as angry.

Quietly, Marcia ducked under the flap of her small tent, then slowly guided it back to its place so there would be no noise. Thankfully, her sister Zoe was a deep sleeper, so she didn't have to worry about waking her. She could be singing loudly and very off-pitch directly in her ear, and Zoe would still be asleep.

Marcia was a little nervous about leaving Zoe, but she knew Adrian would keep her safe, even if he was mad at Marcy for leaving.

She crept past Adrian's tent and into the woods, holding her breath and watching her feet carefully so she wouldn't accidentally snap a twig. Though she wanted to sprint away, she forced herself to tiptoe like she was on a highwire.

For twenty minutes she stole from tent to tent, holding her breath on occasion and sometimes stopping dead in her tracks when a rebel shifted in their sleep. Any sound, whether it was a gentle chirp of a grasshopper or the wind brushing the leaves, made Marcia's heart jump up to her throat.

Finally, she hit the edge of camp and practically dove into the woods (quietly, of course), panting hard as if she'd just beat Adrian at a race. It was amazing how much cardio one could get from sneaking around, even if all one was doing was tiptoeing.

Fortunately, she knew her way to the castle like the back of her hand, even if they usually made the journey during the day. Surely night wouldn't change it too much, and anyway, she had the full moon to guide her, so she wasn't worried. It would take her all night, but at a steady pace, she'd be there by dawn.

She'd survived off of less sleep. She would be fine.

Celeste clenched her jaw shut. She was one step away from being fired, and she didn't want to cross a line now, as infuriating as it was. Frederick liked to blather on about how he didn't know why she'd been chosen, and he usually turned to Melianchor for advice, as Melianchor was male.

She couldn't wait to kill him.

Melianchor was honestly one of the only reasons why Celeste was still an advisor, which was also irritating, but she had blackmail on him too. If he took her down, she'd bring him with her, so really, she was the reason she was still here. NOT Melianchor.

"You must show them your power," Melianchor was saying. "The kingdom is on the verge of collapse already. The people are complaining, and a lot of them wanted Hira to rule in your stead. You must show them a firm hand; show them you're not messing around."

Frederick nodded, slouching in his throne. He'd been pouting ever since they'd pulled him away from the celebrations. It reminded Celeste of a small child, the way his lips were pulled into a frown and how he refused to meet their eyes, and she had to ball her hands into fists to keep herself from smacking the scowl off his face.

"Honestly, Mel," Celeste thought loudly, slamming her thoughts in his direction as he'd taught her. Perhaps a bit too loud, as Melianchor flinched, then quickly recovered himself. "He's like a toddler."

"Hush, Celestine, I'm trying to work."

"What better way to do that than by public shaming, followed by a public execution? You're the king in all but title already, no one will protest. Show the commoners that you will not stand for a riot."

Frederick seemed as though he were actually pondering it (which was a surprise to Celeste because she honestly wasn't sure if he could use his brain), and from the slow smile that melted across his too-handsome face, she knew he was about to agree.

"Bring up the bastard," Celeste thought, quieter this time. Melianchor nodded almost imperceptibly and began to move their plan forward.

"Our only elemental is the perfect victim," Melianchor continued. Celeste could tell he was getting excited at Frederick's reception to their proposal, but he hid it well. "He started the riot and he's elemental. What else could we pin on him, Your Highness?" Mel paused, raising his eyebrows. "Anything we desire. The people need someone to blame. You need to show your power. And, if we add another label to him, we may be able to scare some rebels out of hiding."

At this, Frederick leaned forward, his back straightening as he finally began to understand what Melianchor was saying. "We could announce that he's a rebel," he murmured slowly.

"Yes, my king. And we say we got him to tell us what he knows."

Celeste allowed herself a small smile. Their plan was working, and Frederick was easier to manipulate than they had expected.

"How do you do it without dying?" Frederick asked, tapping his fingers on the arm of the throne. "He is an elemental, after all."

"Simple, my liege," Celeste said, unable to keep herself from speaking up. He met her eyes for the first time since they walked away from the celebrations. "The Sweeper, and me."

The celebrations were to go through the night and into the early hours of the morning, which gave Aneira and Hira plenty of time to sneak away.

When they were finally able to escape the deceased king's room, the book was gone and the door was locked again. Whoever had entered hadn't seemed to notice the few things that were out of place, but Hira and Aneira weren't taking chances – they quickly returned everything to its spot and left as fast as they could.

Now Aneira was slinking along behind Hira, wondering how she'd let Hira convince her to come along with her. Though they both held daggers (and Hira had her twin swords strapped to her back, hidden under her cloak), Aneira was still uneasy. It was surely past ten, and they were creeping down a dark street toward Hyltania's only orphanage by themselves.

Sure, Hira could take care of herself, but Aneira had never even held a blade, let alone used it.

Once they got to the orphanage, Hira knocked politely on the door. And then she knocked again. And again.

After it seemed apparent no one was coming to let them in, Hira slid a sword out of its sheath and used the butt end to bang loudly on the door, not stopping until a haggard man threw it open with his mouth open to yell at her.

Then he realized who it was and dropped to one knee, bowing his bald head. Aneira looked away to compose herself, as he was only wearing a simple nightgown, and she had to keep from giggling at his expense, as his face was as red as a tomato.

"I-I'm sorry, milady," he mumbled. "I didn't expect visitors at such an hour, especially not the Qu-the princess."

"No matter," Hira said, slipping past him and standing just inside the door. Aneira waited patiently outside for his permission to enter, and he stood to give it to her after a second of confusion.

"I'm here because my father paid you monthly and I must know why."

The man paled, and he kept his head bowed so as not to look her in the eye.

"I didn't – I mean, he told me – that is to say –"

Hira turned to him with her arms crossed, her eyes colder than Aneira had ever seen. "I swear upon my life that you will be in more trouble should you not speak than if you tell me."

He swallowed so loudly that Aneira could hear it, and she saw his hands shaking. Pity rose in her chest and she tried to grant him a small, comforting smile, but he would not look at her.

"Illegitimate children are not allowed at orphanages," he whispered. "The boy's mother died in childbirth and the king himself brought him here. He paid us to keep his child, and he paid us more to stay quiet about it."

Aneira watched Hira grit her teeth, closing her eyes for a second before letting out a shaky breath.

"What is his name?"

"Phoenix."

Phoenix was bored.

His chest ached, but not as much as it used to. Voronwe had stitched it up, slathered on some gross goop, then bandaged it for real before he was forced to leave, which was more than Phoenix thought they'd let him do. He sat stiffly on his small cot, picking at the splinters on the bars at the top.

His cell was big enough for the cot and a dirty chamber pot that he hadn't needed to use yet (and he hoped to God he wouldn't have to), and that was it. There was no window, and there were no bars. Only four walls and a thick iron door.

Isolation for elementals meant stuffing them into a room where they could do no harm, and somehow someone had managed to cast a spell over the door to dull the powers themselves. The winds, which usually whispered to him twenty-four-seven, sounded like they were screaming from three rooms away. Sometimes he could tell what one of them was saying, but it was never helpful. It was usually something like "Come here" and "The Helchian is stuck!" and "Oh what's that, I like it."

Not helpful.

To pass the time, he tried to use the wind. Usually, he could bring them out with a flick of the finger, and typically it was harder to say no than to use them, but the most he could do was a tiny little breeze that barely moved his hair from his brow.

It was maddening.

"Hey," he yelled, hoping someone would answer. Phoenix hated being alone, and the ringing in his ears was getting louder. If he didn't say something soon, he would probably explode.

No reply.

That couldn't stop him, though.

"How long have I been here? I need to start scratching the days on the wall. Surely, it's been a week now? Maybe two?"

Finally, someone answered. "It's been two hours, now shut up."

Damn. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Pressure was building up in his chest, and he managed to stay quiet for about three minutes before the ringing in his ears reached a crescendo that he couldn't ignore.

So, he began to sing a sea shanty he learned from Voronwe. It was extremely off-key and extraordinarily loud, but it was exceedingly better than silence.

He sang three or four of Voronwe's songs (or what he remembered, at least) before the door suddenly swung open. Phoenix was so startled that he didn't even try to run, mostly because he could hear the wind again and it was deafening.

"THE HELCHIAN, COME HERE!"

"LET US FREE, THE HELCHIAN!"

"USE US, USE US!"

"THE HELCHIAN, I FOUND YOU A GLITTER!"

"HELP US, THE HELCHIAN!"

Phoenix was almost grateful when the door slammed shut, blocking the air from yelling at him. His head was throbbing, and tears sprang unbidden to his eyes from the force of their screams, but he quickly composed himself before he met the gleaming eyes of a girl.

After a second, he realized she was, in fact, a woman, not a girl, and he sat up, raising his eyebrows (and immediately regretting it when it aggravated his headache).

"I know what you hear," the woman said softly, sitting next to him. Phoenix didn't answer, frowning at her smile. "I can teach you how to block their words if you would like."

"What do you mean?" Phoenix mumbled, trying to keep himself focused. There was a way to block the wind? He'd never even considered that as an option.

But then again, he was sitting in a cell that blocked most of their voices, so maybe it could be done.

"The wind can be opinionated, I know. And I know how to get rid of the voices. Wouldn't you like to use your power without them yelling at you all the time?"

Phoenix blinked at her sickeningly sweet tone, then scooted away. "Who the hell are you? How do you know that?"

The woman rested a motherly hand on his shoulder. "I know a lot of things, Phoenix. And one of the things I know is how to help you. They wanted me to give it a try. Imagine an entire army made from elementals! The power you wield is amazing, Phoenix, and it might save your life if you can use it for us."

Warning bells went off in his head, and it wasn't just his headache. "I'm scheduled for a hanging, milady. I may be dumb but I'm not stupid. I've never seen an elemental survive once they're found, and besides, I won't be anyone's puppet."

"That's because they all fail the test. I'm sure you'll pass easily, Phoenix. Voronwe has told me a lot about you, and I know you'll survive."

His eyes narrowed. "What has he told you about me?"

She moved her light touch to his hair, combing it as though she were trying to act like a mother. As nice as her touch was, Phoenix refused to be distracted, and he slid farther away from her. Besides, she was hardly older than him.

"He told me your mother died when you were young, and that you nearly shot him during your first practice with a bow and arrow. He also told me you're stubborn and would probably not believe me at first."

"If he wants me to do it so bad then why isn't he here?"

She pressed her lips together so tightly that they turned white, and Phoenix gave her a shit-eating grin.

"That's what I thought. Why are you here? It probably isn't for the pleasure of my company, as I've heard I can be a real annoying dumbass sometimes."

Quicker than he could scream, she shoved him against the bed with inhuman strength and cuffed both of his wrists to the wooden bar.

His head smacked against the stone wall behind him. Dazed, he only watched as she cuffed his feet to the bottom of the cot, thinking wearily through the haze that maybe he should try kicking her.

She opened the door again and the wind's shrieks immediately pounded like a wave against his head, but this time he wasn't paying attention. Black spots danced in his vision.

Once his eyesight cleared, he was met with the Sweeper once more, inches away from his nose. He let out a squeak and tried to back away, but the handcuffs stopped him.

"I didn't think we would meet again so soon, but here we are," the Sweeper said with a twisted smile.

Though his heart was pounding so hard he could barely focus, Phoenix was pleased to see that the Sweeper's arm was bandaged.

He spit at the Sweeper, catching him right in the eye and grinning like a child when he cried out and stumbled back.

The girl ignored the Sweeper, stepping closer to Phoenix. She held a knife loosely in one hand, and she wore a cruel smile as she drew the knife lightly across his cheek, then up to his forehead. Phoenix shivered, trying desperately not to move.

"Alright, Phoenix," she purred. "Where are the rebels?"

Of all the things he'd been prepared for her to say, that was not one of them.

"What?" he said, pressing his head back into his cot, away from the knife. "I don't know, I'm not a rebel."

"That's what they all say." She sighed, then slowly dragged her knife across his cheek, starting near his ear and achingly making her way to his chin. Blood dripped down his face and he yelled, thrashing against the handcuffs and ripping open the rope burns from the horse.

"I don't know!" he yelled. The wind was finally responding to him, whipping her hair into her face and shoving her away from him, but the Sweeper threw out his hand and murmured something under his breath.

Phoenix felt the wind abandon him and he screamed.

Marcia entered the castle gates without much resistance. They were open wide to anyone, currently, and there was only one guard on duty. She smiled tiredly at him and nodded, and he nodded back, so she just walked in.

After walking all night and most of the morning, she was thrilled to be in town. She could smell food, and she tried to find where it was wafting from, but it seemed as though it were encompassing the entire village.

Finally, her stomach grumbling, she stopped to ask for directions. They pointed her toward the nearest food source, and she bought two loaves of bread and a couple of apples.

Half the loaf was gone before she felt like she could continue her walk, and now that she wasn't starving, she wanted to take a minute to sightsee. It was always exhilarating to see the castle; as much as she hated the royal family, she loved the subtle beauty and grandeur. The castle wall surrounded a small village, which led up to the castle itself. It was gray stone, with delicate turrets that reached for the sky and subtle pops of color displayed by the blue tiles on the roof. The castle itself was practically the size of a city. She wondered how many people lived inside.

A crowd was gathering in the center of town, and she followed them, snacking absently on one of her apples. Someone was yelling, but she couldn't hear them from her spot at the back of the crowd, so she began shoving her way through.

"...all night, he finally spilled the truth – there are rebels in the castle itself!"

Marcia dropped the apple.

"Thanks to our new king, Frederick, we know that the neighboring kingdom has planted rebels and spies in our very castle, threatening our loved ones! He has agreed to let you punish this traitor to the extent of his crimes, and the traitor will be hanged tomorrow, along with any rebels we manage to weed out of the castle!"

She couldn't breathe. Gasping for air, Marcia leaned against the person next to her, who shoved her off immediately.

Calm down. Don't be suspicious. Calm down.

Marcia forced herself to take a deep breath, counting to ten and then starting over until she could feel her toes again.

She had to warn Adrian. How did they find out? She –

A flash of red caught her eye and she began pushing forward again, practically throwing people aside until she saw the so-called "rebel".

He was standing in a pillory without a shirt, head lowered and eyes shut. From where she was standing, she could tell his legs were shaking and his face was pale against the dried blood. Something was carved into his chest; she could tell it was a word, but she didn't know what it said, and he had been whipped. Oddly enough, none of his injuries were bleeding as much as they should have.

Marcia wasn't sure how he was standing, let alone breathing. The Sweeper might've been helping him somehow, as he was standing next to him, but she thought his magic was more about stopping elementals rather than healing people.

She knew one thing for sure – he was not one of their rebels, so whatever he'd said didn't matter to them. She could breathe again.

Marcia stood still while the townspeople threw rotten fruit and rocks, her stomach twisting for him until she thought she would lose her lunch. Though he was meant to die the next day, the townspeople didn't seem particularly bloodthirsty. She figured his wounds and his youth probably slowed some of them down. He didn't react to anything happening around him, so the others were soon bored and moved on to the taverns and mead.

Once the crowd began to dwindle and the sun started to set, Marcia crept toward the fake rebel. The Sweeper noticed her but turned away, and she figured he didn't care if she shared her bread with the boy.

She cautiously stepped up on the stage, keeping an eye on the Sweeper and the guard. Neither of them tried to stop her.

"Hello?" she whispered. Unable to help herself, she gently smoothed the boy's bright hair back, ignoring the blood that flaked off his hair at her touch.

He opened his eyes. They were glassy and green, and he seemed to look right through her before wincing and shutting his eyes again.

"I have some bread. Do you think you can eat?"

Marcia peeled off a tiny piece of bread and touched it to his chapped lips, waiting patiently for him to orient himself enough to open his mouth. She wished she had water for him, but she'd have to leave to get some, and she was partially afraid he'd be dead when she returned.

"Thanks," he rasped, his voice gravelly and barely audible. She hushed him and fed him another piece of bread.

Finally, after he ate the other half of the loaf, Marcia plucked up the courage to ask the guard with the swollen nose where the closest well was. He seemed amused but he pointed it out to her.

After she hurriedly got the fake rebel some water and slowly dripped it into his mouth, she sat next to his leg, her hand on his ankle so he'd know he wasn't alone.

"Who are you?" he finally asked, then cleared his throat when his voice caught on the words.

Marcia peered up at him and sighed with relief when she saw that he seemed much more aware now. He even met her gaze with a small smile, though it pulled at the wound on his cheek.

"I'm Marcia."

"Thank you, Marcia."

Rushed? Mayhaps. But I will ignore that and present to you free thoughts on the proceedings of the continental congress! HEED NOT THE RABBLEEE

Anyway, thank you for reading me make my character suffer for three thousand words, it means a lot. Don't worry, the angsty suffering shall spread soon enough! Also, he's very injured and idk how I'm going to keep him from, like, passing out for the remainder of the story. Whoops.

Lenny the mouse says he loves you guys. I'm very offended because I've known him for longer and he's never said that to me. I might hire a new mouse.

Jk I would never do that I love Lenny like he's my own son. I'll stop using the same joke never so thanks for sticking with me through that. 

Uhhhhh I had a point here. I forgot what it was. I rush publishing my chapters and therefore don't edit very well because I love attention so thank you guys for giving me attention it means a lot and if you see a mistake then no you don't. The answer is either magic or the Plot Stone (even if I misspelled something). Thank you for your time.

(jk feel free to correct me!)

You all give me a lot of serotonin and I love you guys so much see you later!

CHARACTERS

Marcia Juavez ~ epicredpenn

Adrian Strider (mentioned) ~ Toilken4Life

Celeste Opeli ~ Definitely-Lost

Hira Coltrain ~ Cynarr

Aneira Lorenis ~ TheShortBosmer

Voronwe Tar-Minyatur (mentioned) ~ WingedWarrior1731

Jenson Falkaner (blink and you'll miss him) ~ DURMSTRANGG

Annoying Dumbass ~ Annoying Dumbass