The Poison Prince

TAIDEN stared up at the sky in terror as fireballs rained down on the village, flames smouldering in the grass around their feet. Tendrils of smoke curled around his ankles and he shook his head in horror. This was his fault. Devanna was doing this because of him. He was frozen to the spot, horrified that she had traced him so quickly and acted so ruthlessly. He was heir to the throne and she wanted to burn him and anyone who might be supporting him. Taunting her had been a mistake and she wanted him to know that more than anything. She was the queen now and his mother was nothing more than a skeleton in the royal crypt. He best not forget that again.
“We have to do something!” Xylia’s voice snapped him from his anguished thoughts and he blinked at her, watching as she took off into the village and with it, the heart of the storm.
Julius wasn’t far behind her, but it took Taiden a few more moments before he could instruct his limbs to move again. He knew Devanna was bitter and callous, but he never thought she would go so such lengths of destruction.

He watched as The Draca scrambled in a frenzied panic. Families fell from burning homes and threw their possessions from windows, shouting at each other to catch the things they prized most of all. Xylia threw herself into the chaos, reaching into the flames of a burning archway to pull a small child from the arms of its mother while she fought with another who was too hysterical to move by himself. Taiden watched as Xylia wrapped her own cloak around the tiny girl, batting away sparks on her clothes until she was safe again.
“Your highness, you need to go somewhere safe!” Julius shouted at him, ignoring the cries of help and putting his prince first.
“No, these people need our help.” Taiden said firmly, shaking his head though fear embraced him. He’d never seen anything like this before, but he knew he couldn’t run and hide while others were in danger. He’d never forgive himself.
“They are not your concern!” Julius argued, stepping forward to try and reason with him.
“They are my people. They will always be my concern!” Taiden met his captain’s eyes with a stubborn stare and then raced away to help Xylia gather water to extinguish the inferno that was consuming the village.

It wasn’t long before others joined them. Once families were safe and a shelter had been chosen at the strongest lodging in the village - one that did not have straw or timber in its foundations – The Draca found their fight. Buildings were sacrificed on the edges, but they had water from the pumps and buckets, jugs and bowls to refill over and over. For a short while, no one cared that Xylia was not pure of blood; if she was fighting beside them she was good enough. And for the first time Xylia didn’t spare a moment of thought to what The Draca thought of her; she just wanted to make sure that people were safe.
“It just keeps coming!”
“What is this magicks?”
Taiden kept his mouth closed as he tossed bucket after bucket of water onto the raging fire, slowly pushing back his step-mother’s wrath. He would not let her win this time. She would learn that the people would not yield to her. He would not yield to her. The ground was blackened and scarred by the blaze, but charred earth was far better than corpses and families torn apart. Battling through his exhaustion and aching muscles, Taiden stuck by Xylia’s side matching her movement and speed as best as he could. She didn’t let up or slow down, even if she was feeling as weary as he was. Her determination to help anchored her, guiding her through until eventually the hail of fire stopped abruptly and the winds settled down once more.

“You are reckless, your highness. Reckless, and lucky not to have been hit.” Julius muttered irritably as Taiden collapsed down against the stone edging of the fountain in the centre of the village.
“If Devanna intended to hit me at all. She may have just wanted others to suffer because of me.” Taiden mumbled to himself. He wouldn’t put it past his step-mother to punish him by hurting others. She had done it before; imprisoned thieves and slayed their children.
Xylia walked over to them, tossing a bucket to the side as she ran her fingers through matted locks of chestnut hair. “Everything is a mess, but from what I hear everyone got their families out.” She had no idea how homes would be rebuilt when so many were sick already, but at least no more lives had been claimed.
“I’m glad there have been no casualties.” Taiden sighed in relief, rubbing his now dirty hands on his thighs. He couldn’t recall when he had last been so filthy. It must have been back when he was a boy.
A voice called out Xylia’s name in the distance and her head turned sharply. It came again, louder and closer this time and soon after Zechariahs rounded a corner, his clothes dashed with soot and grime. “Xylia, come quickly! It’s your uncle!”
Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and she took off into a run, ignoring the pleas of the screaming muscles in her legs. Her body had been through so much already since dawn, but she would not give into it now; not when her uncle needed her. She heard the pounding of footsteps close behind her, but she didn’t turn around to see if it was the prince and his captain following her. She didn’t care if it was. All Xylia cared about right then was her uncle and his safety.
Zechariahs tried to stop her at the smoking blacksmiths, grabbing her elbow. “The roof collapsed-“ he began, but Xylia shrugged him off and pushed by him, moving quickly to the smashed doorway with no thought for her own safety as a beam creaked and dropped suddenly towards her head. Julius was the one who caught it before it could crush her and he secured it with rocks and slate before stepping away again.
All Xylia could focus on though was her uncle in the middle of the debris, his body bathed in grime and blood. He wheezed something terrible and cracked his eyes open when she crouched down beside him.
“Xylia-“
“I should have come straight for you. I never should have stayed to save the rest.” She whispered desperately, falling to her knees beside him and reaching for his scraped and bloodied hand.
He shook his head and managed a small smile. “You did right.” It was the first praise she had ever heard from him and it brought tears to her eyes.
“I should have saved you,” Xylia repeated, shaking her head as the tears blinded her sight, “you’re all I have. You’re all I’ve ever had.”
“We can get him a healer. Maybe there’s still a chance he can be helped.” Taiden walked forward, a dim flicker of hope in his eyes. He couldn’t bear the thought of someone dying because of what he had done.
“It takes days for healers to reach these parts.” Zechariahs broke the news to him sadly as Xylia let out a soft sob and dropped her head to knees.
“I’ll send a royal request. Someone might come sooner.”
“Your highness, we cannot stay and wait for that. We have to keep moving now more than ever.” Julius hated to be the bad guy, but someone needed to remind the prince of why they had come this far. The queen would only continue tracing and attacking until Taiden was back at the castle.
“I know, but-“ He was cut off by a painful cough coming from Xylia’s uncle as he clasped at his niece to garner her attention.
“Leave me,” he wheezed tenderly, squeezing her hand in his and wincing with the pain, “you must go while you can.”
“I’m not leaving you like this!” Xylia exclaimed in horror, mortified by the very idea of running away now.
“You have to,” a hacking cough shook her uncle’s body and he clutched Xylia tightly, “you are more than you think you are. Fire is nothing. Fire does not burn the way you do, Phryensh`a.”
“Uncle, what are you saying?”
“North. No one knows the north. North.” He began to shake his head back and forth, his breathing becoming more frantic and shallow.
“Uncle?”
“Fire does not burn, Phryensh`a. The North is not for the flames.”
“He’s delusional.” Zechariahs breathed softly, stifling his own sickly cough.
The meaningless words continued to pour from his lips as Xylia tried to hold him steady, but to no avail. He was bigger than she was, built up with muscles forged from the irons of the blacksmiths. Taiden pushed her aside and produced a small green bottle from his beneath his cloak. He flicked the cork from the neck with his thumb and forced the contents into the mouth of the dying man, shushing him the entire time. Xylia watched with wide eyes as her uncle quickly relaxed, his eyes closing as his mutterings became sighs and then soon stopped completely.
“What did you give him?” She asked suspiciously, rising up onto weary haunches.
Taiden looked at her and slipped the vial away again, turning his gaze away. “It will ease his pain.”
“Was it poison?” She demanded to know, wondering for the first real moment if the rumours about the prince could be true.
“No, but it might buy him some time until a healer can reach the village,” he glanced at the man now peaceful in the ruins of the blacksmiths, “we should move him someplace more comfortable.”

Their home was destroyed. It was nothing but two walls and rubble now. Xylia’s uncle was given the prince’s bed at the home where he was supposed to be staying. Taiden gave strict instructions to The Draca to care for him and wait for the healer to come before even trying to move him again. Julius was the messenger reluctantly sent to find a town with someone trained to cure the worst of injuries and ailments. He protested about leaving the prince’s side, but Taiden didn’t trust anyone else with the task. He also hoped that by splitting up there might be a chance of buying a few more days before Devanna located them again. He didn’t know how she had found them this time, if it was through him or Julius, but he didn’t want it to happen again so easily. He watched his captain ride off into the thicket and then turned around again. He spied Xylia brushing though the remains of her home with the toe of her boot. She stooped to pick up her quiver of arrows, tossing away one that was snapped.
“Where will you go?” He called out, striding over to her almost purposefully.
“I’ll find somewhere. I’ve survived in the forest before.” She answered numbly, not even reacting to the broken string of her bow as she tossed it away from the wreckage and into a pile he assumed was supposed to be salvage.
“What about what your uncle’s wish? About leaving here?”
She lifted her icy eyes to his and suddenly he saw the emotion she had been void of since they had moved the blacksmith. “I can’t just leave him. He might die. And someone did this to him. Someone brought that storm with magicks. I have to know who.”
He hesitated. Taiden was still convinced that Xylia was the one the seer had told him about. She was the one he needed. “And what then? What if you find out who was behind all of this?”
Xylia crossed what was left of her tiny bedroom, her hand closing around the dagger at her waist. “I’ve never killed anybody before, but I just might have to try it.” She spat bitterly.
“It was the Queen. Queen Devanna.” Taiden confessed instantly.
“What?” Xylia spun around to him, eyes ablaze with anger and doubt.
“She did this. She brought the hail of fire.” He didn’t explain his part in it all. It was too risky. He needed Xylia to be on his side. He needed her if he wanted to stop Devanna.
“Why would she do something like that?”
“She’s a monster. I’m trying to put an end to her tyranny, but I can’t do it alone, and I can’t do it from here.” Another little push, and Taiden had her, he knew it. He could see it in her eyes the moment she came to him.
“If we leave now we can make it out of the village tonight.”