| Chapter Twenty-Eight | Celebration of Light |

  The sound of music drifted gingerly through the open window, filling the room with the sounds of drums and flutes and every other instrument a person happened to have.  It lured them both gently out of their sleep, something that both of them had desperately needed.  Without the music, she almost could have forgotten where they were and what they were about to do; the music though, was just another reminder.

  "What is that?" The prince asks with a sleepy voice, yawning in her ear as he stretched out his arms and legs, draping an arm across her.

  It took her a moment to realize that he had meant the music, but once she did, she realized how sad his question had been — even if he had not realized it. 

  "It is the start of the celebration," Adara says quietly, turning her head to look at him, smiling at how tousled his hair was.

  She pulls the blanket up to her nose, closing her eyes as she delves back into its warmth.  A part of her felt as though she could lie there with him for an eternity and never want to leave, but the other part of her told her that it was nothing but a lie.  They had a job to do, and once that was over, they would never see one another again; that was what had to be done, for he was a prince and she was nothing compared to him.

  "What does it mean?" The prince asks, his own curiosity getting the better of him; if he was to rule, he supposed it would do him a great deal of good to know about such things as celebrations and festivals that the kingdom held dear.  That, however, was not the only reason he wanted to know — he found that he simply wanted to know more about her and the land she had once had a love for. 

  "What does it mean?" Adara asks, laughing as she rolls over to face him.  The innocently dumbfounded look that flashed across his face made her smile.  He reminded her a lot of a small child, one who just craved to know all of the answers, even when there was not one clear answer.  "Music does not have just one meaning," she says quietly, "it can mean something different to every person who hears it," she smiles up at him.

  "Alright then," the prince says quietly with a hint of a smile creeping across his face, "what does it mean to you?"

  "Well," Adara says with a smile as she sat up, watching him do the same, "I think it truly is about bringing people together."  The festival in its core was to celebrate the murder of the last elven king, whom no one had a love for.  She supposed hate could bring people together just as well as love could; so it did.  "And I don't think that there is anything more beautiful than that," she smiles.

  There certainly was not anything more beautiful, he thought, as he kisses her again.

  They were startled though at the sound of a gentle knock on the door, followed by a gentle creaking as it is opened.  Lilura stood quietly in the doorway, closing the door behind her as she watches the two move to opposite edges of the bed, covering themselves as decently as they could.  She could not help but watch as the two averted their to the floor and ceiling, a pink blush creeping across both of their faces. 

  "How can we help you?" The prince asks quietly, taking note of Adara's bashful silence.

  "I just wanted to tell you both that he has returned early this morning," Lilura explains, referring to Raiali, whom she still held an ounce of contempt for.  "He wanted to come wake you both but I insisted that I would do it," she says quietly, holding her ungloved hands tight in front of her as she turned her gaze to the open window.  "He expects to see all of us downstairs to set out supplies for your escapade later tonight," she says, as softly-spoken as ever before.

  "We will be right down," the prince nods with a smile, "thank you for letting us know."

  "I will leave you two," Lilura hesitates as she began to turn around, "to ready yourselves."

  "Wait," Adara says, "can I trust that you will keep what you have seen here to yourself?" she asks with a small frown.

  She watches as Lilura turned back around, a gentle smile on her face, "of course you can." 

  With that, she took her leave, closing the door quietly behind her; leaving the two in an uncomfortable silence.  Glancing over at the prince she watches as he at first glances over with a straight-face, but his facade crumbles as he busts into a deep and genuinely hearty laugh — she could not help but laugh along with him.  They truly did feel like the children that they were supposed to be, and they relished in it.

  "That went better than I thought it would," the prince laughed as he stood up, searching for his clothes.

  "Imagine if it has been Raiali instead," Adara says with a laugh as she grabbed up his shirt, tossing it to him across the room.

  "I assume he would have had me drawn and quartered," the prince says as he steps into his pants, shaking his head with a smile.

  "He likely would have tortured you first," Adara says as she pulls a nightgown over her head, letting her hair cascade down her back.

  In all honesty, she simply was not sure what he would have done to them; there was no world where it was acceptable for her to have slept with a prince.  There was not even a world where it was acceptable for them to speak to one another.  What happened last night was never supposed to happen, not ever, not between them; she found though, that she did not mind that it did.  She already lived a life sworn to secrecy, so what was one more secret to her?  They did not have to say it to know that they both would take what they did to their graves.

  "Listen," Adara says quietly, watching him run his hands through his hair, fully clothed now. 

  "I know what you are going to say and I agree," the prince says as he walks across the floor, opening the door for her.

  "Once we leave this room we can never speak of it again," Adara glances up at him.

  "We will go back to being as we were," the prince says quietly, "as mere enemies working together to take down a greater threat."

  "As enemies," Adara whispers back, watching as he put a hand on the side of her face, kissing her gently on her forehead.

  She took a small step back afterwards, watching him gesture gently with his hand, urging her to go on; so she did.  The sound of the door closing finalized their new oath, an oath of silence, that they both had to obey — for both of their sakes.  They walked together in silence down the stairs and into the kitchen where Raiali and Lilura stood, cutting their own conversation short as they had been talking quietly amongst themselves; they stood around a messy array of fabrics and beads that had been strewn across the table.

  Adara sat down on one of the wooden chairs, the giant she-wolf laid down beside her; even lying down she towered above her.  She let one hand run through her thick snow-white fur while the other picked up a strand of yellow and red wooden beads.  It was like staring into a mirror, staring at the beads that her father had hung on the walls in her bedroom.  The memory burned inside her mind, as if it had happened yesterday, but it didn't.  It was a long, long time ago.  Too long.  She set the beads down, but her eyes never left them as she listened to the wolf whine.

  "Today is the day," Raiali says, his voice was peculiar, making her hesitate even though the others did not seem to notice it.

  "Yes it is," The prince says, nodding as he sits across from her, his eyes can not meet hers.

  "We are finally going to take down the man who single-handedly destroyed all of our lives," Raiali smirks, leaning against the table.

  Adara's head rises, her eyes stare into his, at how cool and calculated they were.  Murder had taught her one thing, and that was that taking a life was never easy, even if you told yourself that it was.  She had spent years of her life pretending that every soul she reaped meant nothing to her, but it meant everything.  He sips something out of a dark-tinted bottle, his eyes finally meeting her own.  She was not looking at Raiali anymore, she was staring right into the heart of Beast.

  "Don't look at me like that," Raiali says with an eye-roll, "you want him dead just as much as I do."  She watches him take another sip.

  "Of course I do," Adara says, maybe a bit louder than she had meant to, "but we can not forget who we are dealing with."

  She flinches and closes her green eyes at the sharp sound of the glass bottle shattering on the wall right beside her head.  A string of curses left his lips as he slammed his hands on the table, knocking the beads into the floor that seemed to roll in every-which way.

  "You mean the man who had her raped?" Raiali asks, his voice raised and angry as he points at Lilura, who took a step back behind the prince; both quiet and tense.

  "You mean the man who probably killed his entire family?" Raiali asks as he changes his target, pointing at the prince who grit his teeth at those words.

  "You mean the man who turned my family into vile and vicious monsters?" Raiali asks, gripping his shirt with his fist as his black eyes grew desperately dark and cold.

  "You mean the man who destroyed the little girl I met so many years ago?" He asks as he glared across the table at her, his gaze slicing right through her down to her core.

  Adara stood, knocking her chair into the wall with a bang that was loud enough to make all of them freeze where they stood.  No one had ever spoken to her that way, not since before she had become Jasper — it would have made her furious had it been anyone else.  This was not him speaking, it was only his fear.  They had come so far and he was afraid.  She could practically smell it all over him.  Deep inside, he thought that if they did not succeed, then there would never be justice for what they had been put through.

  Because then, their lives were worth nothing.

  She slowly unclenches her fists, walking as quietly around the table as possible; standing right in front of Raiali.  Jasper would have made an example out of anyone who even dared to look at her the wrong way, but he did not need her.  He needed Adara.  She seemed to surprise everyone, including herself, when she opened her arms and pulled him into a hug.  It was a suffocating hug, the smell of warm alcohol lacing his breath as he breathed a low sigh, but she did not mind it; it was the exact kind of hug that he needed.

  "That man is still our king," Adara says quietly and as gently as she could, tightening her grip on him, "and we can not allow for our emotions to get the better of us."

  "He has to pay," Raiali's voice trembled, and the hands he had wrapped around her shook harder, "he has to pay for what he's done."

  "He will," she promises, letting go of him, "he will pay for what he has done to us."  She grit her teeth as she turns, her eyes dart between the three who stood before her.  "He will pay," she says with a nod, "but we can not allow for our emotions to control us."  If they did happen to lose control of their emotions, their entire plan could and would fall apart; one irrational move and they would be the ones who died, not the king.  They had to be able to put their own vendettas aside for one night.

  "You're right," Raiali says quietly, "I'm sorry." 

  "Don't be," the prince says, the sound of his voice seemed to calm his wolf who had begun pacing the room, a growl in the back of her throat.  The prince ran a hand through his hair as he glances up at Raiali, "we're all thinking exactly what you were bold enough to say."  They all wanted the king to suffer, all for their own reasons, and that was enough.  The king would perish tonight.  The prince would make sure of that — for all of them.  He did not care if he lost his own life in the process, not anymore; he just wanted them to finally be able to find the peace that had been viciously stolen from them.

  Adara leans back against the table, taking a strand of beads into her hands as she lets out a sigh, relief settling in her shoulders.  She was used to fighting, but not with them, never with them.  She would die before fighting them.

  "So," Adara says, glancing up at Raiali as he took Lilura into his arms, careful not to touch her skin, "what is all of this for?" She asks.

  "Well," Raiali sighs, "I figured we would need some half-decent clothes for the celebration."

  "Good thinking," Adara says with a smile, knowing that masquerading around in her old clothes would not get her into the castle.

  "I also figured that we could use the daylight to scout the area," Raiali says with a nod.

  Considering how long it had been since her last days in Xarenth, she figured it wouldn't hurt to look around; it would only help them.  She was giddy with an odd sort of excitement.  The celebration of light had always been just another day of murder and pain — this was her chance to see the what other's saw.  A festival that every Xarenthian man, woman, and child attended each year.  A festival filled with food, drink, and music.  A festival that ends with a speech from the king.

  "Sounds good to me," Adara shrugs as she takes a glass, dunking it into a pot filled with cool water; Exriam clambered up her body, stopping on her shoulder to get a taste.

  She stood back, letting the dragon stick his head into her glass as she watches Raiali sort through the clothes.  He organized them into specific piles, one for himself, one for the prince, and one for Adara.  When he turned though, they could see that he held another stack in his arms.

  "I thought maybe you might want to come," Raiali says, scratching his neck nervously.  He never meant to upset her or scare her.  He knew this would not make up for it, but at least it would make her happy.  He watched her face light up, her cold eyes suddenly brightened with a happiness she never expressed.  "But once it is nighttime I will personally escort you back to the house," he says pointedly.  He would not risk her safety.  He needed her to be as far away from them as possible when the castle door opened.

  "Thank you," Lilura's soft smile was enough to prove to him that he had done the right thing, "thank you so much."

  They watch her take the pile from his arms, standing on her toes she gives him a small kiss on the cheek — quick and short, before turning on her heels and almost running out of the room to change.  Adara smiled at Raiali, who had a small blush creeping across his cheeks.  He was soft on her, like how Adara's father used to be.  She was happy for him, to find someone to take care of.  Someone he could love.  She wondered though, how much of his life she could see with one kiss.  The prince let out a chuckle as he grabbed his pile, handing Adara her own. 

  She could not help but wonder, if she saw something wicked, could she still love him?

  "Go change," Raiali nods to them, taking his clothes into his arms, "we'll meet outside."

  Adara and the prince nod back, and head upstairs like they had done the night before; enveloped with a thick and deadly silence.  As they reached the top, she hesitated.  A part of her knew that if she went into the room with him, she might not want to leave.  So, she took a deep breath and they walked away from one another.  The prince went into one room, and she went quietly into another.  Both of their minds were filled to the brim with unspoken words, words they could never say.

  "My gods," Adara whispers, pressing her hands over her eyes as she paces the floor.  Lying and stealing and killing never bothered her, not before; it did now.  She was lying to Raiali, she might be stealing Lilura's life away from her, and she could very well get the prince killed.  It bothered her now, because she had much more to lose.  She shook her head, taking a deep breath as she pulled her torn and tattered dress off; a cold shiver went running down her spine.

  She would not lose anyone else, not tonight.

  Adara did not remember changing into the new clothes and she did not remember leaving the room; her mind was somewhere else.  Her mind was with the king.  It was incredible, just how much she feared him.  He had a peculiar way of bringing out the absolute worst in people, especially her.  She could not help but remember every horrible thing he had her do.  All of the murder and pain and suffering, it was her for a long time.  Not anymore.  She would make sure that neither he nor any other person could ever use her again.  This was what plagued her thoughts as she walked quietly down the stairs.

  "Adara," the prince's cold voice startled her as he stood at the top of the stairs.  She gripped the handrail as she turned, her eyes skimming over his body.  He wore a pair of black leather shoes and darkened blood red pants down to his ankles.  She watches as he pulls a white shirt over his head.  It was loose fitting and the neckline went down to his mid-chest.  It was the elven style, and elves were much leaner and thinner than a human, so his muscles were quite the sight.  He ran another hand through his hair as he walked calmly down the rest of the stairs. 

  "You clean up nice," Adara says quietly as he stands beside her, hanging a strand of red and black beads around his neck.

  "Me?" The prince scoffs, a smirk playing on his lips as he can not look away from her, "you must be speaking for yourself."

  Her hair was all down except for two small braids in the front that she pulled behind her; it fell into a long cascading waterfall of fiery red down her back.  Her shirt was a shimmering shiny silver that was cropped at the bottom, hugging tightly like a second skin, the sleeves cut off into thin straps.  He could have mistaken her forest green pants for a long skirt, but he saw that the silken material was cinched at her ankles, with silver sandals ties onto her feet.  He noticed, though, that her eyes seemed to match the color of her pants.  The prince could not say it aloud, but he thought that she looked stunning, like the goddesses her kind spoke so highly of.

  "I mean it," Adara says quietly, taking a step closer as she adjusts the beads that hung by his neck, "you are one of us tonight."

  "And I meant what I said," the prince says, glancing down at her eyes that bore into his own; he just couldn't say what he wanted to.  He couldn't admit that he wanted more than anything to be one of them.

  The soft sound of footsteps on the stairs above them is what finally drove them apart.

  "I did not mean to interrupt," Lilura's voice is as delicate and gentle as ever as she stood at the top of the stairs; her lips turned up in a smile that seemed to make them smile.

  "It is not interrupting when they are in your way," Raiali says as he stood between them, holding a hand out to Lilura who smiled as she practically skipped down the stairs, taking his hand with her own white gloved one.  Her caramel colored hair matched the bright sandals on her feet, and the flowing lavender dress she wore made her look like royalty.  "Do you like it?" Raiali asks her, hesitation in his voice.  He had never shopped for any girl before — not even his own mother.

  "Like it?" Lilura asks, excitement in her voice.  She had never worn anything so nice in the entirety of her short life, "I absolutely love it."

  "I'm glad," Raiali says with a nervous smile, but as he took her into his arms, the smile fell from his face.  He did not want to say it, or even think it, but he knew that he had to.  "Listen," Raiali says with a sigh, "this celebration is a big deal to a lot of people," he runs a hand down his face.

  "I know," Lilura starts, but he cuts her off.

  "There will be thousands of people all over the streets," Raiali says a little louder now, fully gathering all of their attention.  "You would not believe how easily a person can get lost," Raiali glances up at Adara and Leonidas who's eyes were cold with understanding, "it is a great possibility that we could become separated."  It was at that moment, that Adara understood what he was asking without even having to.  He wanted them to keep an eye on Lilura; to protect her.  Of course she would, she thought as she nodded.

  "I will be alright," Lilura says quietly, "I will not leave your side," she says, holding his hand.  It crossed her mind, though, that she'd be doing just that later on in the night — leaving him.

  Raiali gives a final nod back to them before he pushes the front-door open, leading them into the beginning of the kings end.  It almost surprised them, just how crowded the streets were already, with banners and beads and lights and music.  There were many people in the streets, but it was nothing compared to awaits them at the center of the city, the very heart of the celebration.  Lilura held his hand tighter as they walk down the steps and into the street as two children ran by, whooping and hollering above the loud drums.

  The ground seemed to vibrate with the deep thunderous beat of the music, and the dancing feet that seemed to follow in sync.  It seemed almost magical, the way that along each road were lines of melting wax as small flames lit up the soon-to-be darkened city.  It was magical, how waving banners and clusters of bright glimmering beads were hung on every windowsill and doorframe and strewn all across the dusty ground.  They walked slowly through the streets, heading closer to the source of the celebration.

  The prince had never seen anything quite like it, not in his entire life; he had no words to even describe it.  Down to its very core, the city lived and breathed a sort of peculiarity, but he liked it.  There were so many types of people, and all of their buildings were different, not a single one was the same.  It was the polar opposite of what he was used to.  In his lands, his citizens were only human, and every building was the same colorless dull slate and black on the outside.  He thought, maybe, he preferred this land.

  "Stay close," Raiali calls out a final warning to them as they grew closer to the heart of the festivities, where every available inch of space seemed to be filled with people.

  "Adara," the prince says quietly, gripping her upper arm, pulling her backwards as a large scorpion clambered down the road — a troll riding on top.  He grit his teeth as he let go of her, instead letting her take his hand as they stared after the large creature.  "And I thought horses were dangerous," the prince shook his head as they walk down the street, doing their best to avoid bumping into anyone.

  Lilura was not so lucky in that sense; almost immediately, an elven man bumped into her bare arm, and her body tensed with fervor. 

  "Are you alright?" Raiali asks with concern.

  "I am," Lilura says quietly, bringing her hand up to her throat as she blinked watery tears from her eyes, "but he won't be."  She felt his terror and pain as a silver chain would be wrapped tight around his neck until he could breathe no longer — until he died.  "He will deserve it," she says quietly, hauntedly, for she had seen his past; his sins.  She shook her head as she glanced up at Raiali, at the sadness behind his eyes.  "I'm okay," she says with a small smile, hoping that she was not lying to him.

  "What is that?" The prince asks, pointing to a large wooden totem that people were decorating with dried flowers, beads, and thin white strips of paper. 

  "It is for a ritual," Adara explains as she watches a small orc girl throw a piece of paper onto the growing pile surrounding the base of the totem, "it is said to being blessings during wartime."  She glances up at the head of the totem, a bulls-head with beads strung upon its horns.  "The papers signify the hopes of the people and their prayers," Adara says quietly as she watches another toss a paper onto the ground.  This was only the beginning of the night-long event.

  The day seemed as though it would never end, lasting an unnaturally long time; the time making each of them equally more nervous.

  "The sun is starting to go down," the prince says quietly, watching the sky change from a bright blue to a series of pinks and purples.  It would not be much longer now, as many small children went running home for bed as the rest prepared for their glance at royalty.  The prince's hands that rested in his lap tightened into fists, as he shook his head.  He was supposed to be hard-headed and strong and ready to do anything.  That was the old him, the prince his kingdom knew and seemed to love.  Now, he felt an inkling of doubt creep into the back of his mind.

  "Hey," Adara's voice seemed to lure him out of the deep crevices that were the dark-spots of his mind.  "Everything is going to be fine," she says quietly, putting a hand onto his own and giving it a soft squeeze as she gazes across the square, at how many people she could see singing and dancing.  "We are going to be just fine," she whispers, watching as a topless troll woman carries a flaming torch, dancing with the music.

  "I hope so," the prince murmurs, his eyes trace hers to the torch-bearing woman, who he found he could not take his eyes off of as she lowered the torch to the papers.  The thin papers went up in flame and turned quickly to ash that floated in the air with the small gentle breeze that flittered through the city.  The tall wooden totem was a different story, as the fire slowly climbed up its trunk and spread until every inch of it was covered by a hue of blue and orange blaze.  Once the entire totem was ablaze, several topless men and women gathered around the base and began to dance to the loud and quickening beat of several large drums.

  "We have to go," Adara says quietly, standing from the sandy ground, holding her hand out to him as she keeps her eyes on the dancers.

  "You were right," the prince says, not really hearing her as he nodded; the celebration truly was about bringing people together. 

  She opened her mouth to say something, but she hesitated; she wasn't sure what she was right about, but she saw in his eyes that he needed to say it, so she closed her mouth.

  "You were right about everything," he says quietly, glancing up at her and the concern that remained hidden in every inch of her face. 

  "We have to go," Adara says slowly, blinking hesitantly as the flame roared, but she knew that it would not be long before the fire flickered out and turned to nothing but ash.

  Just as his hand grabs her own, another, much larger hand grabs her arm; before she could even tell what was happening, she and the prince were pulled into the circle of dancers.  Without any time to think, they were suddenly stumbling to keep up with the hands that held them.  Of all the things, though, that she could have expected in this moment, she never thought she would hear a laugh.  A genuinely childish and loving laugh.

  Through the tendrils of hairs whipping around her head, she could see the prince; more specifically, the toothy grin he had as he began to dance.  For a moment, all she could focus on was his face — the way it seemed to light up as his body began to flow with the beat.  In the next moment, she found herself smiling over at him as they both danced, sand flying around their legs with each step.  Despite the sting of the grains pelting their skin, they continued, holding hands and smiling so hard that their cheeks hurt.

  Even the heat of the raging fire before them was dull in comparison to the blaze that began to rise within them.  It was as though they each had a fire hidden within them that had been smothered almost to the point of being extinguished, but now, they had a chance to finally shine and flourish like never before.  The fun, though, ultimately came to a drastic end when an arm wraps tightly around her waist and pulls her, and subsequently the prince, from the circle.  It was not until after she rammed her elbow backwards into their gut, that she realized who it was.

  "Do you know what time it is?" Raiali grunts, holding his stomach as he grips her shoulder.

  The smile that lingered on her face slowly fell as she turned; she gazes past the circle of people and looks, instead at the fire that she just noticed had slowly begun to die. 

  "Yeah," Raiali says as her eyes drop to the ground, "it's almost time for the gong to ring."

  "What does that mean?" The prince asks.

  "It means that we need to hurry the fuck up and get out of here," Raiali rolls his eyes.

  They follow him quietly through the streets that were now only lit by the dimming candles.  Once the fire was nothing but dust and ash, the gong would ring three times for the three minutes the elven king hung.  Once those three bangs rung out across the city, the gates would open and the castle would be filled with unbridled celebration and joy.  Once that happened, it would be time for the king to take his final breaths.  They walked a little bit faster now as they could see the top of the stone and glass castle, keeping as far away from the front gates as they could as they rounded the side of the building.

  "Where is Lilura?" Adara asks as they walk to the side of the castle, or more accurately, the side of the wall that protected it. 

  "I took her back to the house a while ago," Raiali says with a softer demeanor, "she was getting a bit overwhelmed by the crowds."

  "I can not say that I blame her," Adara says, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder, "I am sure that she had fun."

  Adara barely heard him say that he hoped so as he crouched down, locking his fingers tight together.  She places her foot onto his hands as she glances around, making sure they were alone.  As Raiali stood, giving her a boost, she grabs the dry-stone wall and swings her leg over to straddle it.  Reaching an arm down, she takes the prince's hand and helps to pull him up the staggeringly tall wall.  Adara slides off of the crumbling wall, landing silently and somewhat gracefully in a crouched position that was low to the ground; the prince, though, landed flat on his feet with a not-so-subtle thump. 

  "Get down," Raiali says from the other side of the wall, only able to see him standing through a growing gap between two stones.  He rubs his hands together a few times before bending down and touching the ground, rubbing his hands across the gritty sand.  Letting out a deep breath, he pushes off of the ground, his body launching into the air.  He could feel the gentle breeze blowing in his spiked hair as he pushes his hand against the top of the wall, vaulting himself over the side.  The landing was simple, on all fours, facing the prince and Adara who were kneeled down together.

  "What do you think?" Adara asks in a hushed tone as she glances around, or more accurately up — up at the old castle that she had once called a home. 

  "Don't hold your breath," Raiali says as he ran his finger over his tusk, "but we should have no issues getting in."  There was always the possibility that things would go sideways, that was just a fact; he just hoped they didn't.

  "Once the gong rings?" Adara asks, turning her gaze back to Raiali who was not looking at either of them, but instead staring into the sand beneath their feet.

  "As soon as the gong rings," Raiali says with a nod, lifting his head, his dark eyes seemingly watery as he says, "we move."  Once they did, the kings next minutes alive were numbered.

  The prince was quiet as he moves his hand to his side, squeezing the hilt of his sword; he not once looked away from the castle.  Adara nudges his arm gently, not able to get him to look at her, but she truly did not need him to.  She only needed him to listen.  "We are going to be fine," Adara says quietly, blinking hesitantly at the prospect that she might not be.  She puts on a thin smile as she grips his shoulder tightly.  She could not dwell on it.  She had to fully believe that they were going to be fine.

  The sudden and loud bang jarred all of them.

  It was the very first ring of the gong, echoing across the entire capital — it was so loud, she was certain that those in Bal'Sol had heard it.  There was no time to dwell on it though as the three stood quickly on their feet, rushing to the side-doors where two tall and burly guards stood.  Raiali was stronger than Adara was, but she was faster.  She pulled the twin daggers from the waistband of her pants, twirling them in her fingers as she plunges them from behind into the neck of the closest guard as he was turned; with a sharp twist of her hands, the blood gurgling in the back of his throat silences as his body slumped down to the ground.

  In the split seconds that it took her to take the man down, he came quietly up to the other guard.  Raiali, with a single jerk of his hands, let the long metal claws glide out as he rammed his fists into the mans upper chest.  The man opened his mouth as if he wanted to scream, but nothing came out except a stream of thick blood that leaked down his chin as his body went limp.  With another jerk of his fists, the claws retract and the body collapses in a bloody heap at his feet.  He wipes his hands that were slick with blood on his pants as he tugs off his shirt.

  As he turned from them, they could see a variety of long and deep scars across his back in the dim light.  Adara turned her gaze from him as he changed into the least-ruined royal guards uniform.  The uniform was entirely useless in case of an attack, it was mostly for show.  It was shirtless, with free sitting, iron plated shoulder-pads.  Then, there was an iron  plated kilt with iron shin-guards with silver sandals.  Across his arms were iron wrist guards, and an iron helmet sat on top of his head, leaving just enough space for his tusks to jut out.

  If life had been different, he wondered if maybe one day he would have been exactly where those guards had stood.

  Together, the prince and Raiali dragged the two bodies into the doorway, hidden and out of sight.  She was sure that unless someone was deliberately looking for them, they might never be found until the smell of decomposing flesh filled the entire castle.  The second ring of the gong rang out, reminding them again that their time was running out.  Raiali, grabbing up one of the spears, stands guard at the door as he glances again at the two.

  "Get in there and get it done," Raiali says, his voice stern as he pushes the end of the spear into the sand; his eyes do not leave hers.

  "We will," the prince nods, giving him a quick slap on the shoulder before turning away.

  "Promise me something," Raiali says quietly now as he put an arm out, stopping her, "promise me that you'll be careful."

  She chews the inside of her lip as she places a hand on his arm; hesitation ran through her body.  He reminded her so much of how her father used to be.  He only ever wanted one thing for her, and that was to be safe — he just never realized how much danger he had put her in.  Since then, it has bern Raiali's goal to keep her as far from danger as possible.  He wanted to do better than her father had.  He wanted to keep her safe and find her a place that she could truly call home.  She gives his arm a gentle squeeze as she nods before she leaves him at his post.

  She caught up to the prince rather quickly as he stood at the corner of the building, waiting patiently and quietly for her. 

  "What was all that about?" The prince asks, walking softly beside her as they rounded the back of the building. 

  "He just wanted me to scout the area again," Adara says, lying through the skin on her teeth; she was surprised by how much it hurt.

  "I can help," the prince starts, only wanting to help her, but she was quick to stop him with a shake of her head.

  "You go on ahead," Adara says quietly, the lie, she could tell that it was suffocating her; promises of truth had been broken.  "I will catch up," she says with a nod.

  "Alright," the prince says quietly, his own hesitation showing as he turned away from her, walking down and around to the other side of the castle.

  It was dark where she stood, the only light came from a small lantern hung on the side of the old and decrepit wall.  That did not matter though, as the soft sound of sand crunching under shoes filled her ears.  It was Jasper, or at least a version of her.  Lilura walked out of the darkness that was a deep groove in the old wall of the castle.  It was as soon as she walked into the light, that Adara realized why the mere sight of her frightened so many.  The silvery glimmer of her weaponry was the first thing that a person noticed. 

  "Are you sure you want to do this?" Adara asks, trying to give her a chance to back out.  She was not sure exactly how she would feel if something actually happened to her.

  "I do," Lilura nods, and even though her face was covered by the thin black mask, she could see the determination in her eyes.

  "Okay," Adara nods, glancing up at the castle she could see the old-stained window — the maids quarters, almost always unlocked.  "No matter what you do," Adara starts, but this time she was the one getting cut off.

  "Do not get caught," Lilura says, a soft smile showing in her eyes, "the same goes for you."

  Adara gave a smile in return as she watches Lilura jump, sticking her hands into the natural grooves of the castle-wall.  She walks over, holding onto her feet as she pushes her up until her hands grab onto the windowsill.  Stretching onto the tips of her toes, she holds her until with one hand Lilura holds herself up and with the other, she opens the window.  Giving her a final boost, Adara steps back, watching her pull herself up and into the window.  Once in, she glances back at Adara once before slowly pulling the window shut and locking it, turning away from her.

  All she could do now was pray for the gods to watch over them as she jogs, catching up with the prince who she found leaning calmly against the wall, waiting for her.

  "Are you ready for this?" Adara asks him as she comes up beside him, looking at what she recognized as worry in his face.  She knew how he felt because she felt the same way.  It was not herself that she worried about.  She worried for all of them.

  "As ready as I will ever be," the prince says with a half-cocked smile, his eyes widen as the third and gong is banged for the third and final time; it truly was time.

  "Then let's do this," Adara smiles back, both of them walking together, watching as the large metal gates swing open and a horde of fancily-dressed orcs, trolls, goblins, and elves rush into the castle.

  They, together, walk with the rest of the stampeding crowd into the castle; neither of them quite sure of how the rest of their night would go.  The only thing that they were sure of, was that the king would die tonight.