2412, Crescin 12, Kindreth

The branch creaked under April's weight when she settled on it. Sitting this high up reminded her of the times she sat on the edge of Falkirta, overlooking the rest of Umazure spread below her boots. Now, her vision was limited, encompassing only the chaotic undergrowth and the occasional critter flitting through the spaces between branches and leaves. The sun, while it shone without hindrance in Falkirta, dappled through the space, plunging the forest floor in a darkness even a pixie couldn't fight.

A sigh tore off her lips as her mind played the recent memories she retained inside the Ice Capital. After scoring an inevitable win against the Heiress in Thenaserine, April whisked everyone off back to the Sovereign, leaving a near-empty city waiting for June. And when he arrived, not only did she get the news that someone called the Virtakios was her new assignment, June sauntered inside the city with her in tow.

Her plan of getting to June alone was hindered once more, but she had to work with what she had. So, knowing there were other soldiers with her, she ambushed him in that dilapidated house, saying lines she didn't mean, and getting any onlooker and eavesdropper to believe she meant to kill her brother and retrieve the Virtakios.

It's a shock, certainly, to meet the same girl who throttled April in Komery now limp as a withered flower in June's arms. She only ever read it from the reports, but the Virtakios' description matched each of the girl's features. But one thing nipped at the back of her mind. The bond those two shared—it's also something April didn't understand, nor would she ever.

But, not only did she fail in tearing the Virtakios off her brother's grip, she lost her brother to the city's border without initiating the talk she prepared. Would he even agree? April would never know.

She remembered trudging back to the Sovereign after that, demanding to be freed from the responsibility of rehabilitating Thenaserine as the new Synketrian camp. After the numerous infiltrations and the Heiress appearing to make the Earth Potentate give in to her whims, the Sovereign simply refused to remain in Akaron and put her people in danger.

The Sovereign was surprisingly lenient, telling her to keep pursuing the Virtakios and her brother. She even went as far as providing April updates on June's whereabouts. It's the Virtakios' appeal, and the Sovereign was willing to use April to retrieve such a power rather than find another...more loyal but less capable one to carry out her will.

In this game of using and being used, April had no idea which one remained at the top.

Then, it all came together in the Ice Capital. After finding a temporary truce with Cardovic agents with the likes of Kymalin and Marin, they attacked the unsuspecting race who had built a life underground. It was like Thenaserine all over again, only this time, she and the black-clad individuals have the common enemy that's not each other.

Marin's face flashed in April's memory. At first, she's surprised the Heiress thought of sending a child into dangerous missions, but seeing how Marin moved, planned, and wielded what little authority the Heiress gambled on giving her, April was certain the girl had the potential. However, it all came crashing when the girl started having doubts. They were the enemy to one's potential, and in Marin's case, April couldn't deny the girl had a point.

But she helped Kymalin drive a point home, forcing the child to bend. What choice do they have? With their wishes, their cages, and the deals they kept on pursuing their ends for, they were in the depths with no light in sight. Reservations about what's right or wrong could only take them as far. It wouldn't give them what they wanted.

They attacked, and then, the unspeakable happened. The Virtakios raged all over the Ice Capital and Penleth, reforming every nook and cranny until there was nothing left. Thinking back on it now, it's a miracle their shadow-bending even worked. Judging from the news she got from the remaining traveling merchants, Penleth was an unrecognizable land. Everything was just...gone.

Such raw power must be what the Heiress and the Sovereign wanted. It was the reason for this war and the only one who could end it. A double-edged sword—that's what Xanthy was.

April's fingers tightened against the branch's rough bark. Since the beginning, she didn't want to have anything to do with this idiocy, but look at her now—crawling back to her master for a shred of mercy for her failure. But was the Sovereign really April's master? As far as April was concerned, that red-haired witch wasn't. No one owned April, and it's time she made that fact clear.

With what's left of her energy from the battle in the Ice Capital, she peeled off the branch, throwing her weight in a free-fall. When she's fortweres from the ground, she spread her wings and soared past the canopies. The sun was welcome, melting the shivers left by the snow and ice in Penleth and reminding her some things in her life were still worth living. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air was fresh, free from the filth of odian, the rust of blood, and any traces of dust, embers, and ash. She has had enough of those.

When she reached the new Synketrian camp, she swooped straight to where the Sovereign cooled herself under the shade of her huge tent. Around them, construction sounds drowned out most of the heavy thuds of April's boots. She came straight to where the Sovereign sat, a long table perched behind, and didn't bother to duck her head or show any shred of reverence.

"I don't want to do this anymore," April said. "I'm no longer under your command."

The Sovereign didn't react. Her facial expression didn't even change much, save for the dangerous but faint glint in her dark eyes. Seconds dragged, passing by in a crawl as if the Sovereign bended time to her will. It's not a far-off possibility, but...why would she?

A small chuckle tore April's attention from the soldiers bearing huge trunks and chopping wood in the far distance back to the Sovereign. "Why so?" the Synketrian leader asked. Her hood concealed most of the shadows in her face, but April doubted they'd clear up even when she pulled it down. "I'm intrigued."

"I don't want to kill my brother. Never did," April admitted. Saying it aloud after uttering the opposite thing for months and years on end felt strange, if not downright wrong. "I don't want to become the High Queen. Not anymore."

She leveled her gaze on the Sovereign. "I am no longer yours."

A beat. Two. The Sovereign dusted her skirt before straightening. "By whose word?" she asked, her voice as silky and quiet as a brush of velvet against skin. "By whose authority?"

A smile ripped the Sovereign's lips, showing her pearly teeth. Maybe they were fangs, April couldn't be sure. "Because in my books, you belong to me. And do you know what I do to souls who dare defy me?"

April yelped when a force slammed into her back and pinned her to the table behind the Sovereign. Her cheek bit the rough surface, and the fresh smell of varnish invaded her senses. Her hair fell out of the loose bun and sprawled all over her face and the wooden surface. She squirmed against the hold, but it didn't budge. What in Umazure—

Fabric rustled behind her, and the Sovereign's shadow fell over her. The sound of a vial being uncorked resounded in April's ears. What were they doing? Who's holding her down? A soldier? She glanced at her legs. No other set beside hers and the hem of the Sovereign's flowing skirt.

A shift in the air, and a breath tickled April's ears. "I bend their will. I destroy their souls," the Sovereign answered her own hanging question. "Because I can."

The scream died in April's throat when a hand clamped around her neck and turned her over so that her nape curved against the table's rim. Her legs flailed, kicking trenches against the compact soil of the camp, but somehow, she couldn't move. The force around her torso and wings never vanished, tightening by the second, instead.

The Sovereign's nails clinked against a vial's side, bringing April's attention to the sickly green concoction swirling inside. Fear shot up April's throat, coating her tongue and jaw. It's a foreign concept—April Sylkrana was never afraid—but the Sovereign took no notice of it. Instead, fingers pinched April's lips apart. The Sovereign then tipped the vial's content into her mouth.

Despite her mind raging, rejecting whatever poison dripping down her throat, the force prevented her from doing anything. The potion ravaged inside her, leashing her senses, burning every shred of free will inside her mind, and telling her the Sovereign was the only authority in this island and that all April Sylkrana was, all that she would ever be, was the Sovereign's slave.

Nothing else.

Darkness swallowed April's conscience, and this time, not even the strongest pixie could stop it.