The Darkened War

Ch.7

      Alyssa did not wake up to birds chirping or sun shining through her window, but instead, a rush of cold air as the covers of her bed were ripped from her body; followed by the dreadfully familiar voice of Brutus ranting about lazy Raylanders, and demanding she get up. Alyssa pretended not to hear him at first, but that only resulted in Brutus dumping a bucket ice water on her head. Daniel had never demanded anyone to wake her early without warning the night before, and had always sent in a pleasant maid to do so. Adrien sending Brutus, Alyssa supposed, might very well be his revenge for the times she tried to kill him.
Alyssa sat up and glared at Brutus before ringing out her hair on the floor in front of him—he only smiled at her misery, not giving the satisfaction of a retort. Alyssa grumbled and kicked him out so she could dress for the day. No maid was sent today, but with a glance at her training clothes, she decided she would need no assistance getting them on.
They were ugly, to say the least, but after slipping on the brown pants, she found they were easy to move in. The waist was tight, but everything below was baggy. Her black V-necked shirt was tight fitting as well, and the clashed with the pants. Her shoes were tan slippers, but they were comfortable, so it didn't bother her. She put her hair up to maintain the dripping, looked in the mirror, and could not help feeling like a man. Her training outfits in the past had always been dresses, and while they had always been easy to move in and were by no means been fancy, they were more feminine than the pants given to her here. But fashion was not an assassin's priority—after all, anything she wore could be covered in blood stains.
At breakfast, Brutus went over her training. Alyssa nodded the entire time, and made eye contact every once in a while, but her attention was on her eggs. In the mornings she paid little attention until she had her fill. By the end of the conversation, Brutus must have caught on because he crossed his arms and scowled. Alyssa sheepishly grinned at him, and he must have decided to let it go because he simply rose from his seat and said, "We have work to do."
The training room was set up similar to the one in Rayland. Punching bags were hung up in one area, and weapons in another. Swords and knives were kept in slots on the wall, and the bows and arrows were hung on a rack, neatly and color coded. The less popular weapons were kept in crates. She peaked in and decided she would likely never use any of them; she could not see herself using an axe, spear, and certainly not nun chucks.
"We will begin with the basics." Brutus said from across the room. Obeying, Alyssa followed him, and for the first hour that is what they did; punches, kicks, defense. It was all simple, and Alyssa felt she was 12 again, reliving her past. She knew the training was not all necessarily supposed to teach her, but test her. To find out what she knew, how well she knew it, and how accurately she was able to perform. It was also to bide time, Alyssa knew, until the point where they were fully able to trust her.
As disappointing as it was, Brutus never mentioned her magic. She should not have been surprised, no one understood it, and so that was the one area she had never been able to be trained in. It was idiocy, wishing those in Effulgence would know anything more about it than those in Rayland. When it came to her abilities, she was alone. Her magic, a gift in some ways, was a curse in others. She had no idea where it had come from or why only she could use it; and that made finding its true use and purpose all the more difficult. A part of her was afraid of it, and she hated that. She worked so hard to be brave that it was discouraging when what caused her to cower was within herself. She never used it when she did not have to, and where Daniel had ordered her to use it many times though she hardly knew how Adrien had not once.
Even so, Effulgence, like Rayland, needed her to use a power she could barely control. Her magic did not always come when she tried to use it, and other times it came without her trying and worked with a mind of its own. When that happened, Daniel would brush it off, and say she would get it right eventually. Back then, she was amazed that Daniel was not worried about something so powerful that he didn't understand; now, she understood he was selfish, and cared nothing for her. Even with her power, she was still replaceable, and she always had been.
By the end of the long day of training she was worn out; it did not matter whether the lesson was old or new, meaningless or exiting, it did not make a difference. When she finally reached her bed, she plopped onto it and sank into the mattress. She was out before the count of ten.

Eugene watched Alyssa sleep that night. From the ground below, he stared past the rain up into her room's glass walls. She seemed peaceful, yet lifeless. He knew it was punishable by law to stare up into one of the castle rooms from outside, and that he should not even be outside. But she was only sleeping, and he did not mean any harm—even if he could admit it was an invasion of privacy.
He had not planned this; he had only been on his way back to the castle to return to his shift—but she caught his attention. She was different, and not just because she was from Rayland. It was because despite being given a room servants dreamed about, and an honored position beside the king, she was also in captivity; physically, and in her mind, and despite this she didn't care. He had carefully observed her during their discussion; she had not been fearful, comfortable, arrogant or relieved: she had been determined. Eugene found that fascinating; a girl who had had her entire life turned upside down overnight still had her mind set on nothing but the end goal. It was such a different reaction than he expected that he couldn't pull his eyes away from her.
"It is pouring, and late, do you not have somewhere to be?" Eugene stiffened at the voice. Fear flooded him, and he was unable to speak. He braced himself, prepared for dismissal--if he was not thrown in the Dungeon, but Adrien only sighed and came to stand beside him, removing the black hood of his jacket to let the rain hit his head. Eugene could not meet his eyes. "Return to your post," Adrien said, and then glanced into the room where Alyssa was sleeping, as if to make sure Eugene hadn't harmed her with his eyes. Eugene braced himself again for the king's words of dismissal, but when he said nothing, Eugene left before he had time to change his mind.

Eugene left, and once again Adrien was alone on the streets; he could imagine the lecture Alain would give if he knew, but too often Adrien was hit with the urge to get away and be alone and sometimes he couldn't resist it. The night sky was starless, yet it made him nostalgic; the icy rain made him miss the warmth of summer. He longed to trade raindrops for fireflies, and the clouds for the moon. It brought him back to when he was young; he used to sneak out of the castle and walk the moonlit streets. Sometimes on those nights he pretended he was a star, and that if he looked down, he could see the entire kingdom of Effulgence and watch over the people that lived there. He loved his people even in childhood--but his dreams of being the king they needed dissipated, shattered by war and reality; and Alyssa, the young girl Adrien hadn't even known existed a week ago, held the future of his people in the palm of her hand