Sophie Foster joined a group called The Black Swan Assassins. The Vackers are royalty, as well as Keefe (He is very adopted, VERY). The Neverseen are unknown in the Lost Cities. But they do exist.
Prince Fitzroy is part of the Royal Family. His moth...
All Fitz could see was darkness. An empty void. Voices could be heard all around him. The voices muffled together, not being able to hear most of the words. Some words he could pick up though.
"Capture... Royal Family... Hideout... Cells... Moonlark.
Wait... Memories flashed through his mind as he remembers what happened.
Fitz remembers the running, Keefe behind him. Another boom sound off, the ceiling crumbling, pieces braking off. One second, he was running towards the cells. The next, he crashed face first into something hard and cold.
Very cold
"Ouch!" Fitz whined in pain, rubbing his head to try and ease the pain. Fitz looked up, realizing that he crashed into an ice dome. Glass and metal is rolling down the dome.
"Looks like your head loves to get hurt," Keefe joked, smirking. Fitz sent a glare at Keefe he hopped that could melt the ice dome.
"I'm going to carve out a door in the ice and you are going to walk out. But do not leave to the cells. Follow me instead." Fitz heard. He turned and found Dehlia on the other side of the dome. He and Keefe shared a look. Dehlia was a shy person. Demanding something from someone shock them. Especially when she was demanding it from the two princes.
Dehlia made a door out of the ice dome, motioning for the two princes to walk through. When they were out the of the dome, she waved her hands, nothing happening. Suddenly, Fitz felt a coldness on his hands. Trying to moved them in front of him, he realized they stuck in something. Looking back, he saw ice cuffs were attached to his hands. He looked at Keefe, realization drawn on his face.
Dehlia couldn't be... could she?
"Your part of the Black Swan, aren't you?" When she nodded, he continued, "You un-cuff us right now, and we'll lower your sentence."
She shook her head.
That made Fitz's anger boiled in his stomach.
This was the closet he'll get to the Moonlark. He will not let this chance slip out his hands.
"You better un-cuff us now." He said, his voice terrifyingly calm. She moved. Fitz waited for the coldness to be gone. But that didn't happen. He looked at Dehlia, noticing that she was now holding an object that was has a triangle of silver with a sleek curved handle.
A melder.
Before he could think, he felt something hit his chest, hard. Twice. Before going into the darkness, he heard someone say, "Are you going to cooperate without getting a blast?"
Dehlia was part of the Black Swan. She's a criminal. Opening his eyes, he found himself in a cell.
It was a pretty basic cell. Three walls were a gray stone, the metal bars across from him. Fitz was laying on the ground. He tried to sit up, clutching his head as the dizziness hitting him hard in the head.
"Ah, look, the 'I'm so powerful' prince woke up" A goblin said, standing in front of the cell.
Fitz scowled at him, "Let me go!"
"Hmm... Nope!" The goblin said, laughing. Fitz rolled his eyes. "Omar! Go tell Mr. Forkle he's awake!"
The goblin he was talking to grunted in response, leaving to tell this "Forkle guy" he's awake.
Fitz stared at a wall, concentrating on trying to transmit to his father. But there is a wall, or something, blocking him from transmitting. Or doing any telepathy stuff.
"Trying to transmit, 'Golden Boy'?" The goblin asked, smirking, "You can't, the Black Swan's technopath made the ability restrictor on your head." Him saying that, Fitz felt a pressure on his head he didn't feel before. Reaching up, he felt cool metal on his fingertips. It was a metal circlet that was placed around his head.
Groaning, Fitz focused on the wall again, staring.
And staring.
And staring some more.
Around thirty minutes, Fitz hears footsteps echoing off the walls. When the step stop in front of his cell, he looks up to a figure in a black cloak, the sign of a swan etched on the cloak.
A moonlark was also ecthed on the cloak.
Moonlark
"Hello, Prince Fitzroy," Moonlark says, mimicking his voice.
Fitz stares at him, saying nothing. "What? I don't get a hello?"
Fitz rolled his eyes, "Hi. Now you better let me out!"
"Hmmm, Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"
"What?"
"You wouldn't get." He answered. "Now, I really don't need, but Forkle does." Fitz has a feeling she just rolled her eyes.
He sent her a glare that could wither flowers. 'No."
"No?"
"No."
'Ok." He said it so causal, it honestly scared Fitz. But he couldn't show it, so he kept his neutral look on his face. "Amos, Omar, get him out the cell and bring him to Mr. Forkle."
Fitz now let his terror fill his face as he watch the Moonlark walk away, and two goblins walking in the cell. He scramble back, trying to get away from them.
It didn't work.
He had hit something rough and hard, the goblins right in front of him.
"Come on, "Golden Boy" Said the goblin who had been guarding his cell.
"We don't bite," Said the other. Fitz shook his head no, shaking in fear.
"Looks like we have to do this the hard way," Said the first goblin.
Before Fitz could ask, a hard pressure was put on his head. Specifically where the circlet is.
The Ability Restrictor.
Darkness consumed Fitz's vision, leaving him blind to the world.
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947 words
A/N: Looks like I finished early!!! *Victory Screech* So, in the next update, which will be in the next minute or so, will be my updating schedule for this book and my other book, Old Promises, New Promises. So for now, Au Revoir, my lovelies!
Quick question: Is this story going too fast, too slow, or just right?
