The Poison Prince

DEVANNA raised her hand up, palm facing out towards Xylia. Her eyes were as dark as the sky before a terrible storm. Letting the energy build up in her palm first, she shot forth a devastating blast of dark magicks that threw the young girl back into the wall. Xylia had no time to raise a defence, or even think about one. Her body cracked against the stone and she cried out in pain, crumpling to the floor as the sharp torment rippled down her spine. She rolled over, wincing, willing herself to get up again, but her limbs refused to listen.
"Xylia, we need you!" Julius yelled, his sword a useless shield against Devanna's magicks. The blade was bent and blackened by the attacks, but he was not going to surrender to the queen for anything.

Beyond the wall of ice Xylia could hear guards rioting in the hallway. Those who had chosen to remain loyal to Julius were pitted against those defending the queen. If they were under control via magicks no one seemed to care, or maybe they didn't even notice. The roars and hollers of loyalty helped raise Xylia back to her feet. She pushed through the pain as it waxed and waned, and fixed her gaze on the enraged queen, and the Empress by her side. Loreina only watched over the chaos, but in her eyes Xylia saw the fury. What was she waiting for? Xylia understood family and pride. She had learnt it from The Draca. There was no chance in all the kingdoms that she would stand there and let her daughter fight alone. Xylia was certain of that much.

Guests at the banquet had quickly begun to hide under the grand tables, or behind the lavish drapes. They wanted to be out of sight as fast as possible. This was not their fight. They hadn't come here tonight expecting to be embroiled in a battle. Quietly they prayed to whoever they believed in for the safety of their families and themselves. They just wanted to survive this night, to say the things they wished they had said.
Zechariahs helped one elderly Duke to crawl out of the firing zone, taking a hit from the queen in his efforts. She purposely targeted him with a fireball, which quickly damaged the armour but did little to hurt his Draca flesh. He winced all the same, falling forward from the blow, but succeeded in protecting the Duke, pushing him out of the way at the crucial moment. Zechariahs scrambled over to Xylia on all fours, gasping and wheezing.
"Coming into this I thought I'd die by the sword, not by the queen."
She gripped him tightly by the shoulders and shook him, hard. "You're not going to die at all, do you hear me?"
He gave her a small, melancholic smile and nodded once before pushing himself to his feet and rushing away from her with his sword clutched tightly in hand.

Remembering Julius' cry for help, Xylia crouched low and focused her strength. Aiming true, she froze the fireballs in the air, turning them into ice and letting them fall to the ground. They shattered on impact, a fine glittering dust coating the cold stone. It was a trying challenge, far more than Xylia had ever pushed herself to do before, but it worked. She couldn't stop them all, and some still slipped by, burning guards who fought for them, or setting fire to the tapestries that had hung on the castle walls for decades or more. She could see the rage growing within Queen Devanna. No one had stopped her magicks before. That instilled confidence in the young nobody, guiding her more than anything else could. Xylia rose to her feet and moved to face the queen. Momentarily, Devanna stopped her flurry of attacks and glared at the enigma of a girl before her.
"What are you?" She hissed, eyes ablaze with a fiery anger; though even in her ire she still held herself with the elegance expected of her. She was still physically beautiful despite the bitter ugliness of her heart which was now on show for all the nobles of Lyris to see.
Xylia's jaw tightened. A thousand possible answers flooded her brain and danced on the tip of her tongue, but she spoke the one which sounded the sweetest. "Lyris' retribution.”
She grounded her heels into the floor, and raised her hands to her chest, summoning all of her energy for her finishing blow. All of a sudden she felt strong, familiar arms wrap securely around her waist and a solid body slam against her back. She was knocked forward and crashed once more to the stone. Winded again, she wriggled free quickly, reaching for her dagger to take care of her assailant. Xylia froze, and blinked in utter confusion when she saw Taiden crawling to his knees and realised it had been him who had tackled her.
“What are you doing?” She growled, tugging him to safety as an arrow fired towards them. It landed harmlessly in the leg of an upturned table.
He coughed, gulping down air before lifting his gaze to her. “Saving you. Apparently, it’s imperative that you live.” He explained breathlessly.
Xylia narrowed her eyes, fixing him with a stubborn look that he had come to know only too well in such a short time. “We’ve been through this; I’m okay with dying if I stop Devanna.”
“This doesn’t come from me.” Taiden grabbed Xylia roughly and twisted her out of the way of a fireball’s path. He tugged her down under a table several nobles were already hiding under. They whispered to each other utterings about the mad prince, a usurper, and asked if he was behind this whole assault on the banquet. Taiden ignored them all, his warm brown eyes focused only on the girl he never thought he’d see again. “It comes from someone who found me in the tunnels.” He lifted the rich linen table cloth and pointed Allela out in the throng of soldiers battling before them. “Her.”
“And who’s she?”
“Allela Du Morant. Apparently she’s been looking for you for a very long time.”

The light cascaded down through the opening Taiden made, casting shadows across Xylia’s furrowed brow. Her gaze was fixed on the foreboding woman in the centre of the battle, noticing how she easily towered over many of the guards. Allela never faltered in her step as she swung her sword and took down man after brawny man who came at her. She was only defensive if she had to be, favouring the killing blow above all else. Blood splattered her gleaming armour and she showed no signs of tiring as she spun to face the next guard. They didn’t even hit the floor before she was onto the next one, striking and blocking for all she was worth, her rose gold hair matted with crimson and sweat.

“Why?” The word fell so softly Taiden’s ears barely caught it.
“I think it might have something to do with your special gifts, Xylia.” Taiden mumbled, leaning in close and away from the nobles still whispering behind his back. They craned to hear the conversation, prying for details that might be exchanged for their lives. Taiden knew only too well the price of secrets in his realm.
“But the queen. We have to stop her.” Xylia insisted, turning her attention back to the prince.
Taiden hesitated. He wanted to dethrone Devanna more than anyone, and this could very well be their only chance. Xylia had been so close to taking her shot when he had tackled her, but he knew in his heart he had done the right thing. He closed his eyes.
“The kingdom needs you alive. Loreina will kill you if you do anything to her daughter.”
“She’s stood idly by the whole time. What if she can’t kill me?”
“Loreina can. Stories travel about what the Empress is capable of. I’m constantly reminded that they are only rumours, but I don’t believe that anymore. I think she is the devil Devanna was born from.” He blanched, and the fear Xylia saw in his face was like nothing she had seen before. “The Empress can wipe out villages with a mere thought, Xylia. She will pick your bones clean with a flick of her wrist and that is the nicest possible death she could bestow.”
“Why have you never warned me about her before?” Xylia asked lowly, her voice wobbling as Taiden’s terror began to spread outwards to all who cowered beneath the rich mahogany shelter.
He shook his head hard, swallowing the spit building in his mouth. “I never believed it. I thought it was just lies built on Devanna’s own tyranny. She had been nice in the beginning. I couldn’t fathom that she had descended from another evil.”
“So what changed?”
“Allela came.” Taiden admitted, peering back at the fearless warrior still cutting through the royal guard like she was slicing her sword through calm waters. “Everything she said made me look at Lyris and the history of the world differently – and I still don’t know her story in its entirety! I just know she will do anything to ensure you survive; and for that reason, so will I.”

There was a glint of metal over Taiden’s shoulder. The flash of a dagger caught Xylia’s eye and she quickly lunged forward, flattening the prince against the floor as the blade cleaved through their shadows instead. Xylia felt the rush of air engulf her shoulders, and gasped at how dangerously close the dagger had come to their flesh. She struck out, wrapping her long fingers around the hand that clasped the weapon. Ice cracked and spread like ivy along the veined hand. Looking up, she saw the surprise and fear in the eyes of a foolishly brave noble. He was dressed in Nephilite emerald, and she could feel the magicks within him as she tried to call upon it, but she was faster. Her ice slithered around his arm, stretching across his chest and expanding like rivers on a map until it trapped him. Like chains, it held him, long, thick ropes of permafrost binding him in place.
“Traitor.” Taiden spat, kneeling back upright and glaring at the prisoner. “Lord Highmore, is it not?”
“How can you call me a traitor when you are here talking about killing your queen?” The Lord fought against his prison of ice, but Xylia’s cage held tight.
“She is not my queen. She is the one destroying my kingdom.” Taiden snarled, with all the venom of the poison he was believed to use.
The remaining nobles no longer cowered, but edged forward. Xylia kept her hand ready to immobilise them, too, but she noticed that none of them dressed in shades of green.
“I hope the Empress burns you both.” The Lord spat, his eyes alight with scorn.
Xylia smirked, feeling her blood boiling in her veins at the very idea. A small part of her wanted to see the look on the faces of everyone if she survived a fire attack. She may not have been a full blooded Draca, but fire would not hurt her skin; not now. She pulled her hair back to expose the obsidian scales curling around her slender neck, and even Taiden looked at her twice.
“A dragon will not burn.”

Julius had no idea who the pink haired warrior was fighting beside him, but he was thankful she was there just as he was miserable she was there, too. He watched her cut down good men like they were nothing more than insects. In doing so, she bought them a chance; a chance he never thought they had. He was fighting with a sword taken from a fallen guard, the weight not quite right for him, the grip too new for him to get used to. His own sword lay abandoned on the floor, burnt up and the steel contorted beyond use. He didn’t know where Xylia was, but he had seen Taiden barrel into her and knock her down. There wasn’t time for answers, but he had prayed to any deity listening, be them ancient or new, that the prince knew what he was doing.
To his left, Zechariahs was fighting well – much to his surprise. Julius knew it was unkind, but he had expected the dying man to fall early on, yet he remained in the slaughter. He wheezed and retreated more than anyone else, but he was hanging in there, swinging his sword for what he was worth and occasionally using the furniture and burning tapestries to his advantage.
The Captain had hoped that Devanna would have been defeated by now. He had seen Xylia readying herself for the assault when the prince floored her, but since then all was quiet from her, and the queen had brought in more guards from the side doors and was plotting up at the high table with the Empress Loreina. Julius honestly didn’t know how much longer any of his men could hold out for if there was going to be an endless stream of soldiers coming at her command. If they were like puppets she could just keep producing them.

A table suddenly flew across the room, volleyed by a blast of ice. It distracted everyone for a long second, pinning several guards from both sides of the battle as it crash landed, splintering timber across the floor, scattering along with the end of the ice arch that hung high across the centre of the hall. In the brief moment of chaos, everyone turned to see nobles scramble to a new hiding spot, apart from one stuck bound in ribbons of ice. Next to him, Taiden and Xylia rose.
“Bless the dragon. It’s her.” Allela stepped forward, a smile on her face. She was covered head to toe in the blood of a dozen men, but in that moment she looked as light as a feather as the burden of seventeen years was lifted from her armoured shoulders.
Before anything else happened, Xylia raised her hands and brought a hailstorm down upon the whole room. The sound of the ice hitting armour was deafening, and only added to the chaos storm.
Devanna’s gown dampened, her hair sodden and wrecked. Her beauty was ruined with burning ice and she screamed in furious rage. She tore at the table cloth before her with her nails, ripping through the expensive linen with the strength of her magicks. Loreina was at her side, eyes black with stone cold fury.
The Queen reached out and grasped the air, the wind in the room increasing to bitter proportions and worsening the hailstorm. It was impossible to see, but the magicks hung thick in the air.
“It’s getting hard to breathe!” Taiden yelled over the roar of the gale, reaching out for Xylia to steady himself. His clothes blew around him, batting against his own skin and sticking to him with the icy storm she had created.
Xylia felt it, too, but if this was a battle of strength she wasn’t going to back down. Fixing her gaze on the rich velvet of Devanna’s dress, she twisted her fingers and willed the ice to envelope it. She pictured in her mind the coffin of ice. Sheet by sheet it appeared, growing one inch at a time from Devanna’s feet. The queen didn’t notice it until the fabric grew tight around her knees and began to climb higher. It threw her off balance, forcing her to lean over the table and roar in anguish as she realised she was stuck fast. The ice twisted tight around her waist.
“Mother! Help me!”
Loreina tried to burn the ice encasing her daughter, but it reflecting off like light off a mirror. It was then that the realisation dawned on the aging Empress. A forgotten memory crossed her bitter beauty, and she spun to look at Xylia with unbridled shock and displeasure.
“Poisonous wretch!” She bellowed, raising her hands as they began to glow a bright green, “Your kind died! Buried with mountains and ash!”
“And from the ashes, dragons will rise again!” Allela jumped forward, sword held high and dripping with the blood of murdered men.
Xylia was stunned by the mysterious soldier’s sudden words that she broke focus for a moment, giving Loreina the chance to attack. The green orb of magicks shot towards her at breakneck speed and Taiden shoved her hard out of the way. The burning edge of the magicks caught him, searing through flesh and cloth. He roared in agony and Xylia slid across the stone, shouting his name. She knew what had happened without needing to see it with her own eyes of ice. Twisting as she rolled, Xylia summoned all the power she had and blasted it towards the high table. Ice rapidly fired from her hands, spraying from her fingertips with such violence it broke through everything in its path. The Empress Loreina was pushed back with the energy behind it, forced to her knees howling as Devanna was trapped in the force of the blast by the ice still clawing up to her chest, tightening with every inch as it squeezed the life from the tyrannous queen.
“We have to go, now!” Allela commanded, dragging Xylia to her feet and breaking the young girl’s focus. The ice torrent stopped in a heartbeat, but the storm in the room raged on. Julius pulled a whimpering, anguished Taiden up and supported him with help from Zechariahs as they quickly shouldered their way out of the grand hall, pushing through astounded guards and men too tired and confused to fight anymore.
“Where are we supposed to go?” Julius asked, peering at the charred, oozing skin of the prince’s shoulder and back.
“Home.” Allela said simply, leading the way back through the castle, remembering each hallway with remarkable recall.
“You say that like we should know.” Xylia mumbled tiredly, stumbling over her own feet. She turned to look at Taiden, her eyes roving over his mangled flesh and burnt body. He whimpered with every knock and twist, his eyes scrunched close as he fought against the pain ricocheting through his body. “You idiot.” She whispered to him, her hand grasping his as they moved.
“You s-saved me enough.” He hissed out.
“I don’t have a kingdom that needs me.” Xylia scolded, squeezing his hand again.
Allela let out a loud laugh, and grasped the door handle to Taiden’s bed chamber with a firm hand. She turned back, eyes fixed on Xylia with a stern, knowing look.
“Is that really true…Phryensh`a?”