Once Upon Many Times

The Aftermath

The screams of the people she left behind in the great hall were loud, growing in a crescendo of wails and pleas, falling deaf upon her ears. She hurriedly left behind everyone, pushing those who were in her way towards freedom. She couldn’t and wouldn’t allow herself to be stopped, not by these fools, nor by the King’s Guards. She needed to leave before anyone realized that she had caused this unthinkable horror. But as she ran from the celebration, the memory of her chaos, tears fell from her eyes, the scene of her own mother jumping in front of the ball of energy meant for the worthless princess, the precious Jewel of the Kingdom, taking the full blast of her power, her anger and hate. The pain she saw on her mother’s face as she was hit had hurt her as much as she wished the princess would’ve been hurt. Shaking her head at how her mother risked her life for someone not of her own blood, and the ultimate sacrifice she made, angered Athelyna even more, shocking her with the veracity of how far her mother was willing to go to protect that privileged child. Although she was angry that her mother had spent far too much time with the girl, how much she begrudged her mother, only seeing her as a pupil of her arts, she never wanted to hurt her mother, not physically at least. She knew her mother would be hurt emotionally, maybe, mentally even, given she was so attached to the girl, but to actually harm her? No, that was not her end result for tonight, just the girl. And now, running as fast as she can, scanning for anyone who may be looking for her, her mind trails back to the hall and her mother. Is she alive? Was she able to protect herself instead of that selfish little girl? Will she be able to come back and see her mother again, alive, with forgiveness in her eyes towards her only child? She didn’t know, she wasn’t gifted like her mother, was blessed with the Goddess’ touch of Sight. As long as the girl dies, she just can’t seem to really care for anything else. Time will be a factor as it slips past, memories fade away, she will come back, and her mother will be happy to see her again, and all will be well. It has to, for her sake, to make this all worth it for her.

As Athelyna is scurrying away for safety, those still inside the great hall are scrambling, trying to make sense of what has happened and to find the culprit who had dared to attack the royal family at such a grand celebration. All that is known was that the princess and the family seer were harmed, but to what extent is unknown. Queen Amberleigh tries in vain to reach her husband and child, but the guards are preventing her from going to them, orders given by the King. Fearful of another impending attack, the King did not want his entire family to be taken out if they were all to be together. Pleading, the Queen is searching for answers as to how hurt her daughter and friend are at this moment, yet all she gets is an eerie silence from the two, with only her husband’s voice echoing, barking out orders for a search. Then she hears clearly the order, “Find Athelyna, the Seer’s daughter. Seraphina said her daughter did this. I want a total lockdown. Search every room, nook, hidden space everywhere. Leave no stone unturned. I want her found immediately!!”

No! That couldn’t be correct. She was mistaken, her mind was playing a trick on her, her ears couldn’t have heard that right. ‘Seraphina’s daughter, she did this, to her own mother and to her daughter?’ she thought to herself, hoping against hope this was not the truth. Shaken and disturbed by his outburst, the Queen again tries to get to her child. She needed to hold her, make sure she was okay, let her know that she was there for her, but she was steadfastly held in place, her tears running unchecked, her body shaking as if feverish, and then she collapsed, her body unable or unwilling to keep her standing.

Upon seeing his mate fall to her knees, King Ambrose races to her. He knew that she wanted to see her daughter, but he couldn’t allow that to happen just yet. Although she didn’t receive the full extent of the blast, blocked by the seer’s sacrifice, she was still hit. The black ball of energy had touched her, leaving its mark on her, tendrils of black lines etching itself onto her body, spreading. Not able to help his daughter, he at least tries to help her mother, who is staring blankly at the space where both her daughter and friend lie motionless. His heart feels like it is breaking. His daughter may die tonight, on her birthday, and his mate is shaken to the core, as if she, too, was slipping from his grasp. ‘Oh, Goddess, please don’t take them both,’ he pleadingly asked in his mind as he tried to not think of that, lovingly rubbing his Queen’s arm and whispering soothing words of comfort to her.

While the King is distracted comforting his mate, a body moves from the rubble. A blonde head shakes, looking around at all the destruction from the mess made as people had fled in terror. Adam tries to compose himself, to remember what had happened before now, when a flash of memory flares behind his closed eyes.

“Brielle!”

He remembered she was standing on a stage as her father was to announce his daughter’s birth-time approaching, then a yell and a blast followed by screaming. He rushed to where the stage still stood, guards in a circle, warily looking around, scanning for possible danger. He scrambles towards the stage, only to be stopped by the Head Guard, who shakes his head.

“Please! She’s my mate! I need to see her, I need to make sure she is alright. Let me through!” he begged, his voice cracking, anger and frustration lacing his words of anguish and fear.

“I am sorry, I can not allow you to come…” the Head Guard had started to say before Adam pushed his way through, desperation lending his strength to get to her, his love, his mate, stopping in his track when his eyes finally landed on her and another woman, whose chest was blackened, scorched, her eyes unseeing though they were opened. He crawls towards Brielle, gently moving the woman to get to her and cradles her, shielding her, kissing her head, murmuring softly, his words lost to the guards as they peek over their shoulders.

“Hey, Princess, it’s time to wake up. The belle needs to meet her wolf now, so let’s get up, shake ourselves off and meet her, huh? What do you say, my love, won’t you wake up now? Please? Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours, darling, please? Please, Brielle, please. I need you to wake up, beautiful. Please don’t leave me, I just found you. Please?”

Broken, Adam brushes her hair away from her face, staring at her, seeing edges of black lines slowly marring her skin, creeping like vines, moving from her left shoulder, marching in every direction. Her beautiful face looked serene, her mouth opened and frozen as if she was just resting. Rocking, he lets his tears flow freely, not caring that this moment is open for all to see. His heart breaks into tiny pieces the longer she is unresponsive, tearing out an anguished cry from his lips. The hall quietens as his wail echoes. The stoic guards surrounding her shake from his pain as their own pain is pulled forward; their own tears fall as well. A lone figure walks quietly towards the stage, their eyes solely on the young man holding tightly onto the princess, their steps falter, yet continues to move forward.

“Alpha Blake,” the Head Guard says, clearing his throat.

Nodding, he points to his son, asking, though it isn’t required, he waits for permission to go to his son. Standing aside, the Guard allows passage, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder before saying, “My condolences.”

As Alpha Blake moves to his son, his eyes scan the woman before him. He bends down towards her and closes her vacant eyes, sympathy for the woman shines in his eyes. He then moves towards his son, bending down to him as he lays a hand on his shaking shoulders, worry etched as deeply in his eyes as the black lines etched into the young woman his son holds dearly. Not a man who shows emotions, his heart breaks for his son as he looks at his son and sees his tears streaking down his face as he rocks his love and mumbles lowly to her. Words formed in his mind as to what he could say to his son, his heir, but they didn’t fall from his mouth. He wants to comfort him, but is just not able to do so, though the want and need are strong. His son, once a happy-go-lucky lad, full of life and laughter, now sits so broken, he fears for him. He fears that this once vibrant young man’s heart will take him away. He doesn’t know how to help him with this and that is what scares him the most, that his son’s will to live is broken, and three lives will be lost today.

“Please, Goddess, give him strength to withstand this heartache. Don’t take my son as well. He is all I have left of my own family. I beseech you, my Goddess, please,” he says, his voice cracking, as he cries, his hand still on his son’s shoulder.