LUCAS the BETRAYED [[The Red Queen Fan Fiction]]

If memories are all we are I want a lobotomy

"Charlotte," I mumble and rub my eyes. The sound of my own voice and the kink in my neck snap me to reality.

Before going to war I would have sneered at the thought of sleeping in the back of a transport. But now, it's the best sleep I've had in five years. The drive is slow and my brain begins to wake, bringing a surge of nerves and fears to life. I press my forehead against the smooth glass of the window. It must be late evening. In the dim light the clean streets boasting the luxury of Silvers flash past. This was not Samos city, but we were getting close.

"Four hours to go." The driver chuckles, "Thought you were dead back there."

I huff, "Might as well be."

The driver exchanges a confused glance with the guard in the passenger seat, but out of respect says nothing more. My "rescuers" think I'm a great war hero. The only Silver to volunteer for the war! But truth reveals my adventure as nothing more than a failed homicide. A comfortable silence fills the rest of the drive.

It first appears like a black spike cutting into a star-filled sky. As the transport moves closer the towering metal spires of Samos castle peer over us. My breath catches in my chest. I fought valiantly in the war, never backing down, but the thought of facing my family makes me want to become a deserter. I do my best to inhale like a normal person. 

"Welcome home." One of the guards cheers.

"You must be relieved!" The driver adds.

I bite my lip and nod.

The transport slows to a stop in front of the main archway and the guard opens my door, removing my last barrier of safety. I drag myself and my sack of possessions onto the dirt pathway. Standing in the shadow of the castle I freeze—trying to stand in place and not tuck my tail, jump back in the transport, and beg them to drop me off in the next town. Hell, at this point I'd rather return to the battlefield. But I don't mean that...Answering for me, the door seals.

"Strength and power to you, Samos." The guard calls and waves goodbye, safely inside the transport. The tires crunch along the gravel as it pulls from the courtyard.

"Wait," a tiny voice squeaks. My voice? Within moments the sound from the transport's engine leaves me in the dark.

As stiff as a board, I march towards the door. Thankful to have no witnesses as my knees threaten to buckle with each step I take towards the main entrance. The heavy metal pushes open without a sound. I weave my way through the familiar, empty halls by the light of the moon, taking each step as carefully as though I walked through the middle of a mine-filled Lakelander camp.

Finally, I reach the hall of bedrooms and trace the familiar carvings of my metal door. Out of habit I reach for a doorknob, snuffing out a moment of panic as I remember where and who I am. With only my thought, the door opens at my command and I step inside, unsure which will assault me first: years of piled dust or a blonde wannabe-assassin.

A clear plastic sheet covers the bed, tables, and every item on the wall. Even my clothes were wrapped in protective bags. They really didn't expect me to return... I open a bag and pull out a shirt, holding it against my chest. I was tiny and frail before I was volunteered by...

Evangeline.

Her name returns like the stench of spoiled milk. I have no doubt she's still in the family home, there's no way someone would willingly marry that.

After years of sleep my presence in this room is disturbing. The smell of sulfur and iron, remnants of war, sticks to me like mud against the purified, Silver air of the castle. I rely on a survival skill we learned on the battlefield to keep from being overwhelmed: Simplify the steps.

Step one, take a proper bath.

Step two, rest.

Step three, survive my family.