Burn to the Ground (Discontinued)

1: Winds of Change

The skies darkened with intent of rain, bringing with it the screams and protests. A spark had ignited the fire. But Avery heard none of it in the forest behind the palace, accompanied by the crown prince. She stretched out her hand, trying to catch the falling drops. Her betrothed walked alongside her; encouraging her for the fight ahead. The last duel. Her examination.

It was to be her debut that night, and that meant her evaluation was to be today. Avery had been preparing for this duel for the last seven years, for the moment when she would finally be deemed worthy of the army. To be an officer. As a Duke's heir, and the future Queen, Avery had always known she would never be a sentry or knight in the true sense, but that hadn't stopped her from choosing to serve her nation as an officer while her peers chose to be socialites and courtiers. Her only companion had been her arch nemesis, making her pursuit lonely. Today, she would battle her nemesis, and prove that she deserved the win. Seven years later, it was time for her choice to come to fruition.

Avery glanced at the crown prince by her side, only to catch him looking at her. His face warmed when his eyes met hers, and he smiled, reaching out to tuck a bit of stray hair behind her ears.

"You're going to kill it out there. I have faith in you," he said, his eyes sincere and true.

"Thank you," Avery replied, grabbing the hand on her cheek, and squeezing it. She turned to face the edge of the forest, where a crowd had gathered near the waterfall to watch the duel.

Her duel.

The wind whipped her clothes, making her loose tunic balloon around her as she wrapped strips of leather around her wrists and ankles so that the ballooning sleeves wouldn't get into the way. She fingered the sword hanging at her waist, her nerves getting ready for the fight. She checked her boots, next. Once she was sure everything was ready, Avery glanced at Tristan, who gave her an encouraging smile, before stepping out into the crowd. The crowd parted easily for the crown prince and the lady, and Avery walked straight to the circle that had been created for duels. Her opponent waited for her, her stance relaxed, ready. Her feet were spread apart, her arms loose with one hand on the hilt of her sword as her eyes followed Avery's every move.

Tristan squeezed their intertwined arms once more, and Avery returned the gesture before letting go and entering the ring.

The chattering audience stilled, silence filling the clearing, but for the slight patter of raindrops falling into the lake behind them. Avery inhaled the smell of wet mud that came with the rain, placing her feet apart and unsheathing her sword. Her empty fist was clenched, her nails digging into her skin and grounding her in the moment. She waited for the examiner to signal the start of the fight, but it never came.

Instead, sounds of splashing water and mud, and breaking twigs reached her ears. Both Avery and her opponent turned to find the interruption, their eyes landing on a messenger. The boy couldn't have seen more than thirteen seasons, with his short build and youthful eyes that were now filled with urgency. His tunic was drenched, a mass of black hair sticking to his forehead. In his hands, he clutched a soggy scroll, the royal seal clearly visible. Avery's eyes met Tristan's, and she saw the realization dawn in them.

Something must've happened. Something big.

Tristan gave her a nod, and both of them bolted forward in an attempt to reach the boy as soon as possible. The messenger panted as he reached them, shoving the missive into Tristan's hands. The crown prince opened the scroll, his eyes darting over the words.

"It's a summons," he muttered. Then, loud enough for Avery to hear, he said, "We must hurry. My father requires our presence urgently."

"What is it about?"