AMETHYST: The rise of Tetra

Chapter 16

    ‘He’s done it again! Curse him that piece of s**t! He’s sent another attack, Emilda, I’m going to destroy him’ paced an angry King across the floors of his chambers. The Queen halted her activities as she focused on the rage of her husband. She had begun thinking back to the very beginning of time, when she was born into a world that constantly had issues between the fire and water kingdom. As she tried to recall why it happened in the first place, her mind remained blank, and the gaps in the story remained. This was an instance where yet again attacks were launched by the enemy in a constant cycle that never ended, and neither King was willing to surrender or take the first step towards a peaceful world. 

    Members of this unruly planet were separated not only by the barriers that lay between their grounds, but also by the punishable law that stood in the way of the common public to face a kind much like their own. The powers of water and fire are those that for centuries have been the strongest on any planet where human figures reside, though they have also been looked upon by everyone through a lens of opposing factors when, in fact, they are one in the same. It is only a matter of oblivion that strips the robust planet of Boraq from being the most harmonious one in all the galaxies, though any planet with human existence only focuses on the stubborn aspect of the heart and feelings that tarnish a perspective completely, concealing it from what should be. Boraq was a planet of Gods and Goddesses of fire and water, after all, though a planet so strong was only let down by the commonalities of the human factors that lay within any human figure whatsoever. 

    King Voltor, God of water and King Alek, God of fire had been at each other’s throats since birth, knowing nothing else of each other aside from the only knowledge their parents had passed onto them: that the opposing team is always the enemy. The few interactions they had had consisted mainly of intense swearing and degrading each other and their lands without any context as to why. As ridiculous as it seemed, it had been the one most prominent aspect drilled into their minds that carried on to their children for a never ending lineage of hatred for the opposing team. 

    It was therefore no surprise that things ended the way it did for the tragic couple that parted in the most blasphemous of ways. Though how did the pair end up in a circle of forbidden love to begin with? 

    It was with an attack on a random day where the after effects of the tragedy were more than usual, that King Voltor paced his chambers attempting to figure out the best way to improve his plans of attack even more.

    ‘How many people?’ Asked Queen Emilda as barely a whisper, afraid of the answer herself. The fear was evident to her husband and he debated whether the revelation of the number of casualties would do his woman any good, though the truth was always the best approach when facing the Queen, and when he failed to deliver a response, she pushed for answers once again ‘How many Voltor?’ This time the King had no choice but to spit out the truth, knowing there was no escape from it. 

    ‘500 people’ he responded, creating a gasp of agony from his Queen, who had certainly not been expecting a number of that length.

    ‘500 deaths? It’s never come to that before! What are we going to do Voltor? We can’t face our kingdom without a plan’ suggested Emilda, walking up to face her husband sternly. The man had expected his wife’s reaction, and could only put his arms on her shoulders and look into her eyes as a source of comfort. 

‘I know Emilda, we’ll figure it out, I promise’ he vowed, holding onto her hands for comfort. 

    Till then the kingdoms had only come across each other in moments of war, which meant neither the Queens nor the successors had ever confronted each other in their years of existence. Though it was time for a sly change in the system of evil that surrounded the planet of Boraq, and King Voltor’s new plans would ensure that surely the planet would collapse the way it did. Gone were the days for a normal state of hatred for the kingdoms that were destined to hate each other from the beginning of time, and incoming was a time where cruelty was replaced by a vindictiveness that never before had been seen on the planet.

    ‘I have a plan, one that will ensure Alek’s kingdom is destroyed, I just need you to have faith in me, Emilda’ he convinced, providing his woman with the easing comfort he always could in times of need. In that moment as he embraced her, she reminded herself of how fortunate she had been to marry a man she loved, and to have found love within her own kind, unlike her own daughter. 

The young Cassandra, had yet to even meet the man she would undoubtedly come to love the most on her planet, and till then she remained just a naive 14 year old girl, figuring out her life the way most teenagers did in her kingdom. It was not half as easy for her, of course, knowing she was royal nobility and that in itself was a factor that only made the process of making friends a lot harder for her. She had skipped from one side of town to the other, the only girl with an unblemished frock and perfectly pointed shoes, attempting to blend in with commoners that knew instantly who she was. Children ran away into their homes and adults could only bow at their Princess, who only just wanted to be treated as a friend. Nevertheless she accepted what she got and returned to her castle with no more friends than she already had: one. Her only friend and companion had been the daughter of a scullery maid, who had been the Princess’s personal maid ever since Queen Emilda had appointed it. As much as she had appreciated the companionship she had found in a servant, it had been too little for the bubbly girl who always sought out conversations with any and everyone around her. 

    Little did the princess know her life was going to take a turn for the worst, and it would be in the most subtle of ways. The bittersweet feeling of love had yet to impact the lives of the successors that so blindly went about their lives, believing only what their parents had fed into their heads so far, though the turmoil was yet to come, and it would come with a bang no one would expect. 

    King Alek had smirked with satisfaction at the successful attack they had for no absolute reason placed upon their opponent, and waited for an attack of the same level from King Voltor, who no doubt would strike back. By habit it had become a trait of fun for the King’s to attack each other without a reason, and so it seemed a hobby to the men to set out to destroy each other with the cruelest of intentions. The sly man had returned to his chambers at night, knowing that his actions were putting the lives of the people he loved in danger, yet they did it anyway, knowing that was all they knew. 

    Queen Viana was a woman as cunning as the King, and had grown up to have the slightest of sympathies for people who went against her and her mentality. Her son had been the spotlight of her eye, and she had kept him close to her from his birth, fearing the day he would have to give him to some other woman. The cruelty ended with her son, and for him she would give up anything, including her own ego. Though at the time she had not known that her son would make the only mistake on Boraq and fall in love with someone who was not only from opposing territory, but the very daughter of the man they despised to the core. Would she ever allow such a relationship to take place? Time would tell. 

    In the meantime she celebrated the victory of their ambush with a man she barely adored, opening a bottle of hard liquor and getting disgustingly drunk with the King by her side. It was a perk of being the Queen, that nothing was off limits for a woman who wished to go beyond what her reputation was meant to be. Viana had always been a free woman, unlike Emilda, though the one thing they had come to share was the strong motherly love they had for their children, as well as the betrayal they would get for it. 

    At the young age of 14 Leopold had been the least interested in wars, romances or noble behaviour. The man was the epitome of a wise poet, and with a book or another in his hands at all times, he had gone against the clear mannerisms of what a prince was entailed to do. Archery, sword fighting and horse riding had been the least of his interests, though it was a course forced into his mind with the few gaps he had in between with the things he was most passionate about: poetry, and soon, Cassandra.  

    With the only expectation of an attack in mind, King Alek went to bed after pounding his wife in a drunken state, expecting a moment of freedom. Though when he woke up to the sound of frightened maid who yelled about the disappearance of their prince had woken up the man faster than it ever had before. 

    ‘What do you mean he’s gone?’ Exclaimed the man with a literal raging fire within him. The God of fire had worked hard on controlling his element in order to prevent burning down his grounds, though the news of his son's k********g had been enough to trigger a certain amount of the fire to spill from his system, and in turn burn down the very chambers he had spent the night getting drunk in. Queen Viana had made it out alive of course, being the Goddess of fire, it had unfortunately taken the life of the poor maid that had only just cared for the prince like her own son and come to warn the King and Queen of the consequences they would now have to face. 

    ‘The bastard took him, Viana! I’m going to kill him. I won’t spare his life this time, I have let it go a time too many’ he spoke in the same tone of anger that had not long ago been the one the opposing King had used to unleash his own wrathful thoughts. 

    ‘Let’s kidnap his daughter’ suggested Viana, her fists clenched so tight, she almost drew blood from her palms. 

    ‘He would’ve kept his daughter hidden within the depths of his castle by now. Even if we tried to, we wouldn’t make it to her, it’s too predictable’ voiced the King, reading his thoughts aloud. The boiling Queen had had enough, and punched the wall closest to her, exerting the anger she had deep inside her. 

    ‘I want our son back Alek! This is your fault!’ She yelled, challenging her husband open handedly. Despite his glare, he advanced towards her with slow strides, stopping inches away from her. 

    ‘I want him back as much as you do, and we will get him back. I promise you that. Till then I just need to think of a way to get my revenge’ he seethed, barging away from the conversation with his heated woman. The Queen retired to a new room she would call her own, and began the lengthy process of venting out her anger in the best way she knew: sleeping around with a man that was not her husband. 

    To Leopold, his capture had been expected since the beginning, and as he sat in the darkness of his cell, with only his book in hand, he could only wonder how his parents had not fathomed that this event was to come. What else did the kingdom expect to receive after an attack that killed 500 people of the opposing team? It was a concept that the Prince could only wonder as he re-read the words of his favourite author, laying on the uncomfortable bed that remained in his cell. He had expected his parents to rescue him, of course, though he wondered what the cost of his escape would be, and would be the next person to pay the price for it. 

    King Voltor had felt nothing but shame capturing the young boy that lived uncomfortably in his cell, knowing that the fight was not between him and the kid, though for the sake of years of a traditional relationship of hatred, he proceeded with his plans to slyly kidnap the man that he would keep hostage until his opponent had not paid the price of his actions. 

    It was a sequence of events that only went around in a futile cycle of no conclusion, and as it happened, the uninterested Leopold and the pretend clueless Cassandra only wondered when it would come to a stop, and when the kingdoms would unite and celebrate the victory of being amicably content for once. 

    Queen Emilda had been equally as guilty about the capture, though for some strange reason understood the justification it came with, as part of being blinded by hatred herself. And so as she trotted down with food for the enemy’s son, she could only do so much to display her generosity whilst masking it with a facade of hatred towards someone she didn’t even know. 

    The cordial boy had placed his book down gently, welcoming the Queen with a bow much to her surprise.

    ‘Queen Emilda’ he had greeted, recognising her instantly from the few instances in which he had seen in the midst of wars and attacks. The shocked woman had not much to say to his respect, and despite believing his genuinity had pretended not to, keeping up with the act that was expected of her. 

    ‘Get up boy, that is no way to welcome a Queen’ her words had immediate impact on the boy that stood up, knowing the charade that was going on. 

    ‘You don’t have to pretend, Your Majesty. You wouldn’t have brought me food if you didn’t care for me, I appreciate that’ the smart boy spoke, shaking the woman to the core who had been amazed at the impeccable sharpness of the boy. Spotting the book that lay behind on the metal bed, she changed the subject, placing the tray of food through the small whole that could just about let a plate of hot food through. 

    ‘You like to read, boy?’ She had asked, knowing that the boy was nothing like his parents, not in the slightest. She had known of Queen Viana’s reputation, and it had not soothed her knowing that a Queen could be so vile and disloyal. Though looking at the kid, she could only wonder what kind of upbringing he would have had to end up a man so generous. 

    ‘I do like to read, Queen Emilda’ he responded, wondering why the Queen had been kind in the first place. The woman had been nothing like his own mother, who cared not for anyone but herself and Leopold, though her selfishness had created a monster that was not worth loving. 

    ‘Do you fight?’ Was her next question, to which he simply shook his head, knowing the draining effect of the same expectations being fumbled around for the most part of his life. 

    ‘I do not, your Majesty’ was his curt response, a sign enough for the Queen to back away. Words did not have to be communicated to explain to the boy why he was in the situation he was in, and so the Queen composed herself, delivering only a final word before taking her leave from the cells he resided in.

    ‘Every man needs to fight to be able to protect those around him’ her words had been imperative and firm, and it took no argument as she floated away, leaving the boy with only her words to think about and the hot plate of food. It had never made sense to Leopold why he would have someone to protect to  begin with, though soon he would solve that mystery himself, at the appearance of a certain girl that in that moment had been stumbling around her lands once again freely to attempt to find any friends at all. In her state of unawareness, she skipped about, only to be taken away by her own guards to the safety of her castle at the recent capture of the enemy. The protection for the Princess had increased drastically, and for the bored and jumpy woman, her opportunity to connect had been stripped off her completely as she was shoved back into her chambers with her only remaining confidant: her personal maid. 

    ‘Rien, what’s going on? Why have they locked me up in the room? Surely this has something to do with the Gods of fire’ she predicted, happy that her only friend had been with her in the solitude she would have to face for the duration of Leopold’s stay. 

    ‘I’m not sure I should be saying, Miss’ the shy Rien responded, fluffing the pillows on the bed as she prepared it for the night. A frustrated and lonely Cassandra stormed up to her friend, turning her around to get the truth out of her. 

    ‘Tell me, Rien. No one else is going to’ she insisted, knowing she would do anything to protect the maid that had been with her through everything. 

    ‘I have heard rumours… that your father kidn*pped the son of King Alek, Prince Leopold’ responded Rien, bringing out of the petite woman a gasp that resembled her mothers at the time the initial devastating news was revealed. 

    ‘My father? How could he? That’s not right!’ Exclaimed the princess, not believing that her father would stoop so low as to capture his enemy’s son, knowing the poor boy had nothing to do with the problems between their kingdoms. 

    ‘I’m sorry Miss, it’s only what I heard, I could be wrong’ a panicking Rien had responded, taking her leave soon after with a flushed expression of shame and embarrassment, Talking wrongly about her father could end her life for treason, and it was something the woman wished to avoid to the core. 

    Curiosity had been eating away at the woman, who had yet to understand if what her maid had said was true, and knowing she wouldn’t rest in peace until she knew, the Princess did only what she knew she could do to satisfy the hunger: she went to explore. 

    Guards had been stationed at her door at all times, which only meant she would have to use the secret passages installed in her room from its creation to sneak out of her chambers and into the darkness of her castle, where she would have to navigate her way around guards and maids to get to the bottom of her questions. Sneaking around had been something she had often done to get away from the solitude of her chambers, though she would only reach her roof, where she would spend the night stargazing or moon gazing, and clambering into the dungeons had never been something she was trained to do, but something she had forced herself to do on that day.

    Noticing the guards stationed at the doors of the cells, she had waited for them to fall asleep, before she snuck her way in through the doors, ready to pay the consequences of her actions. It had only not occurred to the naive woman that the consequences would end up being a lot bigger once she would lay eyes upon the man she would come to love so fiercely. Nevertheless she tumbled down the stairs, making out what she could in the darkness, only guiding herself through the source of sound. Using the walls as a compass, she made her way to the end of the dungeons, where the most important prisoners were kept, and with the small stream of moonlight flooding in through the ceiling window in the corner, she squinted her eyes to make out the figure that lay stiffly on the hard metal bed inside the cell. 

    Her footsteps had been so subtle it had not occurred to the gentle Leopold that someone had come in to pay him a visit, though when the clumsy princess tripped over a small stone and gasped in the process, all eyes had been averted to meet the source of the noise. 

    ‘Who are you?’