All around me,rebels and royal soldiers clash, steel ringing and bodies falling as battle erupts on every side. The sounds of swords clashing and battle cries echo off the walls so loudly that I feel as if my eardrums will burst. The floor is littered with corpses and discarded weapons, obstacles in my escape.
Each step sends a shockwave of pain through the wound in my shoulder. Blood soaks through my tunic, running down the length of my arm. I dodge chunks of stone and gusts of wind as Elvarrans sling their magic at one another. I run as quickly as I can to cut through the chaos. As I emerge on the other side, someone bumps into me in a clash of swords.
“Raelys.” A deep voice calls out my name, a hand wrapping around my waist as they yank me against their chest. Their blade clashes against their opponents, shielding me from harm. The mark on my arm ignites from his touch, and I know who it is without having to look.
“Casimir,” I gasp out as he pushes me behind him, continuing to fight.
“You must escape. Now,” he demands, kicking the soldier back.
“What about you?” I ask, keeping my eye out for any more soldiers who may attack us. “What if they kill you?”
“Worried about me?” Casimir’s lips quirk up as he strikes again. “If I fall, I fall protecting my crown.” He whirls, sinking his blade directly through the man's gut.
The rebel soldier falls to the floor in a heap.
Casimir quickly closes the space between us, gloved hand cupping my cheek as he kisses me. It’s brief, as the sounds of approaching footsteps echo across the hall. Casimir releases me, stepping in the direction of the adversaries.
“Run, Raelys,” he commands.
“Are you sure?” I back away slowly, watching four soldiers approach.
“Yes. Get to safety.” Casimir readies his blade.
I don’t know why I’m hesitating. It’s not like I’m any help when it comes to battle. I’ll just get in his way. None of this was supposed to happen. These rebel soldiers shouldn’t be here. I took care of Nikolas, shielding Casimir from his ploy.
“Raelys.” Casimir barks, snapping me out of my trance.
“Please don’t die,” I urge.
“You are etched into my skin and bound to my soul, Raelys. No distance, nor time, nor magic could ever sever you from me, even in death,” he calls over his shoulder before rushing into battle.
I turn and run.
Tripping over a few bodies, I stumble as I head toward the foyer. To my horror, the castle doors are broken off, shattered to pieces. Before I can reach the exit, something crashes into my side, slamming me into the wall. The taste of blood is sharp on my tongue as my head snaps back. My shoulder screams in pain as it's pressed into the stone, causing me to cry out.
A sword barrels toward me. I dodge as fast as I can, theblade catching on my cloak, ripping the fabric. I try to run, but a hand closes around my throat, pinning me to the wall.
Nikolas.
His eyes dilate into large black voids as he bares his teeth at me. “You!” he seethes, restricting my airflow.
Kicking out my legs, I try to get Nikolas to release me. I claw away at his grip, gasping for air as spots form in my vision. Nikolas snaps his head back and forth, his eyes searching for something that isn’t visible.
“Not again…” His voice wobbles as he slashes the air beside us. “Go away!”
Using his state of mania to my advantage, I sink my dagger into his arm. Nikolas lets out a cry of agony, throwing me with a heavy shove. The air knocks from my lungs as I hit the stone, my body rolling to a stop. I plant my hands on the ground, forcing myself to rise through the pain. I have to keep going. If I don’t, I will certainly meet my end here.
I start patting the ground around me, searching for a weapon. When my fingertips brush against the hilt of something, I grab it. As I stand, Nikolas swings his sword at me. The blade hits above my left hip, slicing through the skin with ease as my blood paints the floor beneath us.
My hand instinctively goes to cover the wound, my blood hot and slick across my palm. I lash out, but he dodges with ease. Nikolas starts to laugh, but another hallucination grips him, causing him to turn.
“Fuck off!” he yells, swinging his blade at nothing.
I surge forward, swinging the dagger with all of my force. It sinks directly into Nikolas’ amber eye. He screams, stumbling back as he reaches up to pull the blade free. Blood spurts from the wound as he dislodges the weapon from his eye socket, the gore making my stomach turn.
I run.
The wound on my side is deep, blood running down my leg and into my boot. I look down to see my tunic stained with red. My chest heaves as the world grows fuzzy, but I will my feet to continue running. Each step is agony, the edges of my vision darkening, but I push forward—one foot in front of the other—driven by sheer will and the desperate hope that I’m not too late.
