The Archer Princess

Desolate Ruin

Angel was in the room, blood dripping down her face. The white covers that she laid in was smeared with small streaks of dried and fresh blood. Her head hurt, a beating sound pulsating upon the inner workings of her cerebrum. She took a piece of the cover and wiped her face on it.

Prince Chance left her alone for awhile. She didn't know why, but what made her wonder was what was it that pushed him enough to have her beat without an explanation.

She knew somewhat, however. Prince Abason and him were close friends. A connection like that could trigger a rage. She wondered how long it was going to be. Way too long had she been away. She wasn't feeling herself; she hasn't for awhile, but she knew that everything would work out in the end.

Her eyes failed to remain open. Her body had been working hard right after the beating which soon occurred once she realized she made one wrong move. She tried to recover from it, but failed to at the end. But here she was now. The night was sure to be long and she could finally rest herself from her troubles.

A hush fell upon her and blackness covered her surroundings.

Right across the hall, Prince Chance had arrived after the journey and companionship he had given Prince Abason. He came about ready to see what had become of her. He opened the door, a beam of light once again directed towards the corner of the room.

He found her again, sleeping. This time he wasn't going to let her.

Prince Chance shook the bed and hit the edge. "Wake up."

Angel shuffled, a moan escaping her lips. Still asleep.

"Wake up." This time Prince Chance kicked the edge a little harder.

Angel groaned; her hands naturally found her head and she pressed on it. She tried opening her eyes, and only saw a figment of a figure before shutting them closed again. She needed this.

"I said, wake up." Prince Chance's voice was gruff this time. He nudged her arm to show that he was being serious. Angel jolted away, her mind finally formulating that it was Prince Chance.

"Who are you? How did you even do what you did?"

Angel didn't answer. In the near darkness, Prince Chance saw the blood smear on her face and the bruises on her left arm. The red dark streaks weren't too hard to tell apart even in the shadows, but he continued.

"I'm giving you five minutes. You're smart. I know you'll have an answer. If not...well, I'm going to be sending him back in."

~~~~~

Prince Abason made it back. He was in his room now. Before he knew it, he was sitting on his bed with a blank, but sorrowful stare on his face. He stopped and took a deep breath of air. He remembered that Peter went back. The boy should have been in the camp by now with a man named Gavin. At least that's what Prince Abason thinks he had heard. He had to do something, and he had to start there.

Prince Abason got off his bed, even wondering why he had stopped at his room in the first place. Then again, he was trying to avoid suspicion from Prince Chance. If he had went off into duties immediately, there would have been something wrong with that.

The loss of someone close should usually lead to grieving. Prince Abason knew how to hold back though and control emotions for a later time. A prince had to know such things. Life had to keep going and he knew that his responsibilities weighed on him. For all anyone else could know, a day put off in his kingdom could lead to more tragedy if something had to be done.

That's where his discernment had to come in, whether it was better to grieve first or attend to a coming task.

A human king would not grieve over one soul for more than a day while other men are still in battle in need of their leader. Unless, the king is God. Prince Abason knew that Angel mentioned Him a few times. The King of kings and the Lord of Lords. He is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent.