Aurelia.

My mind was still spinning with the new information long after Darius had left, and I cursed him for all the new questions that popped up in my head and plagued me.

But what was most frustrating, was that believing him was so easy.
His story added up more than the one we were told, and I had always wondered how the people who 'survived' had built the city if they had barley anything to begin with.

Not to mention the gold our city was named after. He told me that his grandfather had found it, and that my grandfather had stolen it. I sighed. It was entirely possible, knowing what I did about royalty.
Maybe that's why I found believing him appealing; I knew too much of my own blood stained history to think that any of my ancestors had been any good at what they did.

I shut my eyes, trying to force away the fact that if it was true, my father had hid it from the entire kingdom, not just his family. If it was true, he'd lied to all of us. But it was a very big if.

I leaned back against the rough log, trying to get as comfortable as possible, but knowing that I was inevitably going to wake up with a stiff neck no matter how I slept. Thoughts and doubts were still playing tag in my head when I stretched out my legs and shut my eyes, attempting some semblance of rest.

I mentally took them and shoved them in a drawer in my head, shutting them up for a few minutes before they escaped and started bugging me again. But I must've been more tired than I thought, because I fell into oblivion not long after.

~*~*~

"Daddy?" I called into a dark hallway. I'd had a nightmare and made my way to his office, where he'd started spending more and more time. I didn't like it. He didn't play with me anymore, and mommy either completely ignored me, or screamed at me for every little thing I did.

My face was wet by the time I finally reached the huge oak door that light was spilling from. I was about to push it open, when I heard voices talking from inside, so I put my ear to the wood and listened.

"...but your Majesty, there are still people who remember what happened. They might talk-" "So get rid of them." My father's voice was almost unrecognisable, cold and sneering. "Someone is bound to notice that many deaths." The tired voice
croaked.

It belonged to my grandfather's general, Keshev.
I shrunk back against the door. He was pleasant enough, but his eyes- milky white with blindness, had always scared me.

"Then make each one different. That way, there's no suspicious pattern." My father snapped. "You're a clever man, general, so I expect you to figure it out." He paused and the silence was taut.

"Unless you think it's time for you to step down?" His voice was soft, almost caring when he spoke again. "Maybe the body count is getting a bit too high for your liking? If so, I will gladly reprieve you if your sins, general."

I heard the sound of a chair being scraped back, and footsteps thudded along the wooden floor.
"N-no, o-of course not, your M-majesty." The old man stammered. For a moment, he sounded like a small child. "I-I will do what- what must be done."
"Good." My father's voice had returned to the cold, unfeeling tone. I shivered, and, as quietly as I could, tiptoed back to my room in the dark.

It rushed to greet me and began closing in on me, swallowing me whole. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see. Unable to hold it anymore, I sucked in a sharp breath, and icy water filled my lungs. I was drowning, sinking deeper and deeper into the frigid, ink-like substance. I saw my mother's face; it was twisted in hatred; she screamed at me, over and over and I just wanted her to stop-

"Wake up!"
My eyes fluttered open, and I blinked rapidly, still seeing the water; feeling the cold numbness fill my lungs.
Bright light flooded my eyes and my tense muscles relaxed in the warmth of the sun. Relief flooded through me, along with a shudder; the nightmare had felt terrifyingly real.

But I was certain that what happened before it had been a memory.
One that I'd shut away as a child, and forgotten about until now.
Why now? What had prodded my subconscious to release it?

Before I could gain some answers, someone loomed over me, blocking the sunlight and casting a long shadow on the wall. I squinted in the brilliant light, making out the silhouette of a woman. Ash looked down at me, something like surprise on her smooth features. Before I could properly identify it though, she turned her face away and dropped a green leaf bag at my feet, before disappearing through the hole.

I was confused by the expression on her face, wondering what had caused it. She clearly harboured nothing but disgust at me from the beginning, and I had a good hunch why, but what had changed?

I flexed my hands, relieved when there was no pull of rope, and reached for the bag. It contained a fresh bun, some fruit and water, (which I downed all at once) a thin white t-shirt and a pair of billowy trousers. I wasn't sure which I was most grateful for; the gown I'd been wearing for way too long had become so dusty and uncomfortable that I had half a mind to just rip it off.

I stood, groaning in pain and alleviation when the blood rushed down my prickling legs. Then, as quickly as I could, I yanked the dress off and slipped the fresh clothes on, wishing that I'd had a chance to wash first. The old phrase; 'Beggers can't be Choosers' flashed through my mind and a strangled laugh escaped my lips.

I never in my wildest dreams imagined that I'd end up in a hole underground as a hostage. It was impossible, and yet, here I was. Shaking my head at the complete unlikeliness of it all, I walked around the pit-like space, feeling along the walls for any grooves that might be useful in climbing. There were none.

I sighed, still infuriatingly confused regarding how my captors got in and out with such ease. They simply seemed to disappear and come out the other side. Which wasn't humanly possible. But then, I figured, living out in the open as long as they have without dying wasn't supposed to be possible either.

It seemed like impossible wasn't a thing anymore. If they happened to turn into wolves on the full moon, I doubt I would be surprised.

A sudden tap on my shoulder made me jump, and I turned angrily to meet Fern's big brown eyes. My anger dissipated almost immediately; he was too sweet to be mad at. His olive skin shone in the sun, his features soft with a childish roundness to them. He couldn't be more than fifteen and yet, his eyes were deeper than any I had seen.

Before I could speak, he bent and wrote something in the sandy ground with a stick.
"Sorry if I disturbed you." I read, dropping to the floor beside him. I smiled. "It's okay. I was getting a little lonely in here anyways."
He grinned back at me, exposing two adorable dimples, before writing again. "Did you eat?"
I nodded, my heart warming at his concern.

"Yup. The bun was really good." His eyes lit up, and he quickly scribbled; "I made it." "Really?" I asked, impressed. He nodded enthusiastically.
"Well then, thank you. I don't think I've had such a delicious bun since..." My voice trailed off. My father used to make really amazing buns and I absolutely loved them. My mother would tell me that I was going to get fat off of them, but he never stopped me.

I must've been lost in the memory, because Fern nudged me. "Are you okay?" He wrote, shooting me a concerned look.
"I'm fine." The words were quite ironic, all things considered.
He smiled wryly, as though he thought the same thing, and a weird kind of release spread through me.
It was easy, talking to him. I didn't have to hold back for fear of being judged.

"Do you have any family?" I asked, mostly so that I could think of something other than Darius's words replaying in my mind. He nodded, before scrawling in the sand; "Only my mother. I never knew my father. We left after I was born." His hand shook slightly. "I think he didn't want me because I couldn't talk."

"Oh." I gasped, horrified that someone had made him feel like that. "I'm so sorry, Fern. I hope he's suffering for it." I added fiercely.
His mouth lifted in a sad smile.
"What about you?" He asked through writing.

"I have both my parents, and a sister." A knot formed in my throat. I missed Astra. Even though my mother always compared us, and found her better than me, she never shoved it in my face or tried to exceed me in any way. And I wouldn't- or couldn't- resent her, no matter what my mother did to separate us.

She was supportive where my mother wasn't, and our relationship was something I treasured. She and I would tease each other to no end, and she would come to my room late at night and tell me about her latest crush. I always said that her head was stuck too deeply in the clouds, (she would tell me that I had no imagination) but we rarely ever fought. And if we did, it was mostly my fault anyway.
I loved my sister, (but I would never tell her that) and missed her immensely.

"It's okay." Fern wrote, and I assumed he noticed the way my eyes had gained moisture. I quickly wiped at them, and he cocked his head, studying my face.
"I'm sure you'll see your family soon." A crease appeared between his eyebrows.

"Or at least, until the King gives us what we want."