The Masks Returns
800 Words
The capital city shone like gold under the evening sky, the sunset painting everything in red and orange light. From far away, the streets looked like glowing rivers, and flags waved proudly in the wind. But behind all that beauty, the city was full of secrets—people whispering lies, hiding plans, and covering up their sins with gold and music.
But she had known long ago that the beauty of the city was simply an illusion, a lie she became good at seeing beyond.
She stood quietly on the cliffs above the capital city. Her hood was low, her mask tight, her heartbeat calm. The wind was tugging at her cloak .Then, she ran her fingers slowly over the sword in her hands.If this was Long ago, this view would had made her dream and hope for the future but now it only reminded her of the anger burning inside her—the promise she had made ten years ago to make things right.They Thought that she was dead , that she could be easily erasable .
But now she has come back to seek justice.
“Three guards at the front. The two are trailing. There is no archer's insight. Their eyes are on the west road,” Corvin’s voice rang , interrupting her thoughts, his voice filled the silence — it was low and precise,. He had taken his place next to her, his hand brushing the hilt of his twin daggers. “Right where we planned,”he continued.
Luda did not acknowledge him. Her eyes were still on the royal caravan winding through the valley below. The wagon creaked under the weight of grain and steel, symbols of overconfidence and arrogance. Sunlight glimmered off the shiny armour and shiny helmets. The soldiers moved with the self-sufficiency of those who believe power renders them safe and untouchable.
The crown always mistook invincibility for safety.
She looked at the black and slim sword designed to swallow the moon instead of reflecting it. No flourish. No hesitation. Just a nod.Similar to smoke rising from a flame, her rebels continued down the slope—quiet, efficient and lethal. She waited just one last heartbeat, eyes consuming the golden city, whispering a promise only she could hear.
It had been ten years since she last walked through the palace halls, a crown on her head and everyone’s eyes on her. The whole ten years since they took away her title, her power, and her honor—calling her a murder like she had been one all along. She had spent a decade living in the shadows, being quiet and patient —waiting for the right time to strike back.
“I’m coming home.” She whispered to the sky.
Then the attack began.
Peace turned to chaos in the valley. Smoke curled into the air like living shadows. Arrows sliced through evening air. Screams fragmented the golden haze of sunset. Horses whirled around, hooves crashing against the ground. Men shouted, swords clinked together, scents of blood and dust rolled in the wind. Like a spirit, Luda moved among them—a mask catching light, a blade slipping between each crease in armour, fluid and exact in movement. She hadn’t come to kill, she had come to frighten.
The royal seal burned easy. Supplies blew up in crates that rumbled the earth beneath her feet.
“Too loud,” Corvin hissed Next to her, tightening his voice, “It will alert the Black Guards.”
But it was too late.
Thundering from the timber line came hooves, black plates, and red banners rode the wind like breathing storms—royal elite cut through smoke and chaos as a blade would cut meat.
And at the front—like a shadow from passing time—sat a man she had not seen in a decade.
Kain Raven.
Her chest stuttered. A single beat awareness, jagged and painful. His face was more hardened, more sharpened, carved into something untouchable, broad shoulders, dark presence—but the storm-grey eyes remained, the same eyes she had felt around, when they were both sitting in candlelight, memorizing each other’s forms, in secret, long ago.
He did not recognize her, yet.
But when their eyes met from across smoke and steel, something in him broke. Reins tightened, horses slowed. A flicker of remembrance—of love now long lost—flashed in his eyes.
She let him look. Let him bear witness to the weight of what he had lost.
Then, before recognition could blossom, she turned and disappeared into the mist, leaving only ash, silence, and a small silver token glimmering upon the bloodied earth.
The same token she wore the day he promised to love her.
Mask down. Heart steady.
The forgotten princess had returned.
- Writer
