The Heir of Red and White

Chapter Two: Aiyana

    "Did you see the Royal Guards in action tonight?" a woman exclaimed from afar, her words muffled by the wind. I quickly ducked behind the nearest bush, ignoring the sting of the branches as they clawed at my side. The grass crunched beneath my weight as I scurried forward and the ground leeched the warmth from my palms.

            "Of course. I understand now why they're called the Royal Executioners."

     Two noble guards made their way around the corner, their sapphire coats, and bright white slacks stark against the desiccated foliage. One of them held an oil lamp before her, the small flame casting shadows across her face. The other trailed behind, her eyes wandering aimlessly.

            "I can only dream of being promoted to their ranks."

            "I don't. You'll basically be a royal dog. All you'll ever do is watch them gossip or execute peasants." The two women paused before me, their laced boots  just a few inches shy of my fingers. I sucked in a sharp breath, my pulse loud in my ears.

            "At least they're paid their weight in gold." The women laughed while I cringed. The Azurian Guards were supposedly women of high esteem and character, but their words were a complete contradiction to that notion. They were nothing more than privileged Elites who thrived on their small semblance of power. The exact opposite of what I strived to be. What I had promised to be.

            "Let's just go before one of us is next," one of them joked before grabbing the other by her sleeve and tugging her along the path. When the sounds of their footsteps subsided, I quickly untangled myself from the bush.

     Had I been in the castle, I would've been caught immediately. The Royal Guards were far more vigilant, and as the memory of the young girl's neck being snapped flitted across my mind, I noted that they were also far more deadly.

      I quickly shook off the debris left from the bush and tightened the strap of my bag on my shoulder. Once I was certain everything was secure, I sprinted toward the outcropping tree line. If the map I had analyzed was accurate, I would find the path to a village in the center of the forest, just a few yards shy of the garden.

            As soon as I stepped into the forest, the willowy trees engulfed the light of the moon, their wayward branches casting disfigured shadows across the floor. I slowed to a stop and grasped for the nearest tree, pausing to catch my breath. The resinous scent of dirt and moss filled my nose, and the chalky feel of the bark was rough beneath my fingertips.

          The wind grew harsher as it whistled through the barren branches, chilling the skin of my face despite the mask that concealed it. I ducked my chin into the collar of my shift to fend off the cold. I hadn't grown accustomed to the northern winds yet, and I found myself wishing I had worn a thicker layer of clothing.

     Once I managed to catch my breath, I continued forward, my arms outstretched before me. The weedy trees soon gave way to massive, dark oaks, their thick roots erupting from the ground, covered in browning grass and leaves. Their branches forked in all directions, entangled with one another, and bent at odd angles. As the trees grew denser, the light of the moon grew dimmer, and soon I was encased in darkness.

               I drew a candle from my bag, its yellow wax welded to a brass base with a thin, curved handle, and lit it with a match. I swore as one of the flames leaped toward my finger. While analyzing the various maps of the principality and planning my expedition, I hadn't had much time to collect tools for the journey, and I was quickly regretting not finding an oil lamp to use instead of a rustic, aged candle.

              As I descended further into the forest, the dirt path I traveled on gave way to withered stone, one almost identical to the path I frequented in the capital.