Cry For War

Chapter Five

The princess knew that the time she had to take back control was short, that as soon as this newfound power was discovered it would be seized and exploited. She did her best to bring such reminders to the forefront, where they could be used as her drive to move forth and take on the woman who had taken everything from her. Veronica had to ignore the pain in her knuckles as she took the staff into her hands, admiring its unique form. She couldn't stare for long, to take in its finer details and its raw power. She was on a mission and had to get moving, lest her single window of opportunity fade away. Her wounds could wait, as could her infatuation with the divine weapon. For now, all she could do is pull the flattened head of it toward her chest, clutching it tightly as she fled. And this time, she knew exactly who to run to.

"Xander!" she cried out as she practically tugged the door off of the hinges in a panicked response. "I-" she began, struggling to catch her breath as she held out the staff for him to see her handiwork. To her own astonishment,  his quarters were empty, filling her with a dread she had felt for far too long, a reminder than in an instant, any bond she had ever made could be gone. Her breaths stayed ragged as her blood dripped down her hands, beginning to send small tremors through her body. What had happened to the man who had taken his chance to ensure she was prepared for this moment, but now had no means to tell her what to do with this essential knowledge or how to enact it for her use. Surely, he would have told her that it was in her best interest not to dawdle, but she had no other choice. Her vision had begun to blur, clarity hazing in and out of focus. The pain had begun to get into her head, causing her legs to wobble as it overwhelmed her adrenaline rush. She couldn't allow herself to falter now, but even this willpower wasn't enough to prevent her from collapsing back to the floor, line of sight closing in and beginning to fade to black as her eyelids grew heavy. And before she knew it, she was gone.

"Princess..!" a familiar voice rang in her ears, snapping her back into focus. His hand cupped her cheek, fingers damp as he tried to bring her back to the waking world. She couldn't discern it as such in her current state, but the worry in his voice was practically ear piercing, allowing her to come to terms with what had just happened. In his embrace, she was tightly held as her eyes opened, flexing her smaller hands as she felt the tension from the menial treatment he'd been able to provide. Such injuries would surely be blamed on his teachings, despite the deed having been entirely on her own initiative. They would be viewed as propaganda and an attempt at treason, having sealed the princess's own fate without her being any wiser to it. The attendants and servants could not be her saving grace now; her life rested completely in the hands of her advisor.

Xander let out a sigh of relief as he cradled her close, wiping the droplets of water that rolled down her delicate face from the cloth he had placed away, just as he had been the entire time since he'd removed the glass fragments and tended to the wounds on her fair skin. "Oh, Veronica... How fortunate I am. I thought for a moment that I had lost you," he whispered to her, clinging her smaller form to his, allowing a single tear to roll down his cheek. As stoic and stalwart as the crown prince often had made himself out to be, he was not careless. He had the instincts of a father, wishing to protect his younger siblings and Siegbert with everything that he was, and the same applied to Veronica. He wasn't Camilla, capable of coddling a little bird, or rather a wyvern, until it was ready to take flight. Veronica needed the independence he allowed, and he needed to ensure that she was safe, both out of obligation that would have him killed if he were to falter and out of a genuine paternal love. The sadness in her eyes, it would surely ring in the bells of death for him.

Veronica groggily parted her lips, but didn't manage a single word. She was exhausted, the rush of confidence and adrenaline she'd had having diminished, leaving her entire body to ache in consequence. After an extended silence, she finally forced out a weak,  "Xander..?" As much as she wished to ask him what had happened, her wandering gaze had already answered that for her, finding that Hliðskjálf was still laying on the floor. Its energy was strong, she could still feel how it coursed through her veins.