The Exiled King

Lord Rowan descended the stairway quickly and came face to face with Lirya, who was looking all too guilty. Two guards, dressed in the standard livery and carrying swords, that had accompanied him, appeared behind Lord Rowan as his face morphed from surprise to a livid purple rage.

“Lirya Aylusa Elena Throeyns! What are you doing here?!” He bellowed, striding towards her.

She flinched and took a step back, her hands shaking. Leus stood further back, watching with fearful eyes and unable to do anything to help her, as he was the only thing keeping Jason from collapsing.

Lord Rowan reached out and grabbed Lirya’s arm hard enough to bruise, and she cried out.

“Grab the others!” He ordered his guards, squinting against the darkness at the two figures behind his daughter.

“No!” Lirya cried, and reached for the little knife—a dagger, really—and slashed blindly at Lord Rowan’s arm.

4. Never exhibit violence in any form. It is unbecoming of a lady of high society.

Lord Rowan yelped and let go of her arm, although the knife was not sharp enough to inflict more than a flesh wound. The blade sliced a thin red line through Lord Rowan’s white silk shirt and soon blood spilled out of it, staining the edges of the fabric.

The ‘rules’ that she’d memorised came floating back to the front of her mind again as Lirya watched the red blood slowly creep up on the white of Lord Rowan’s shirt.

He swore, cursing her under his breath as he motioned for the guards to get her instead, disregarding Leus and the semi-conscious Jason.

I hurt my father, She thought, but felt strangely empty. When had he ceased to be a father figure in her life?

But… he was trying to hurt me. Again. So I hurt him back… that’s okay, right? If he does it, then it must be fine! Why is he angry?

As Lord Rowan’s guards slowly closed in on her, Lirya’s eyes stayed fixed on the slowly spreading stain of red on her father’s shirt.

He made me bleed too… So why is he angry when I do the same to him?

Her whole life, she’d lived within the castle walls, ignorant of the outside world. She was a bird that had not known there was a world to explore outside of her gilded cage. Everything her father had done was seen as the right thing for her, the child who had no one to compare his actions to. His anger, she understood—he rarely got that angry, and when he did, Lirya knew it was her fault—but his actions were strange. She had imitated him but had received only wrath in return.

What did I do wrong?

“Lirya!” Leus shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. It snapped her out of her daze and she backed away. Lord Rowan’s attention was not on her, however, but on the youth who had stood in the shadows.

“You?!” Lord Rowan hissed, staring in disbelief at Leus, “What are you doing here, Lord Leus? Are you a part of this?”

With nowhere to go and no way to fight, Lirya had been backed into a corner. Her heart beat fast in her chest as her trembling hand clenched the handle of the knife until her knuckles shone white.

She took a deep breath, held the knife to her own throat and then yelled loudly, “Stop! Or I will slit my own throat.”

Lord Rowan turned away from Leus but didn’t meet her eyes, “Put that knife away, Lirya. We both know you won’t go through with it anyways—so stop being a nuisance and halt your pathetic attempt at rebellion before I really get mad,” He warned.

She shook her head and pressed the knife deeper, digging into her throat and a line of blood appeared, “No, father, you think you know I won’t do it. You don’t know how long ago I considered doing this—all just so you would look at me!” Lirya shouted and tears fell from her eyes, “Look at me, Father! Look me in the eye!”

A drop of blood rolled down her neck as they stood in the stalemate.

“I see you for the first time since you disappeared for months and you sold me off in marriage!” She whispered.

Lord Rowan glared at her, lifting his eyes off the knife at her neck and at her face.

“Go ahead, then,” He said, pointing to her knife, “If you’re not willing to quietly slip out of my life by marrying, you can always slit your own throat.”

Lirya’s face paled, “W-What?! No, y-you need me! I’m your heir!”

Lord Rowan scoffed, “Not anymore. Aylusa gave birth to a son a month ago—he’s my heir. You? You’re a pretty little pawn. If you’d been born a son, everything would have been perfect. You might have married a Whiterose lady! Instead, I got a daughter—and one who doesn’t know her place!”

For a moment, all was silent. Then, as the stunned overlookers watched, Lirya smiled and laughed quietly.

“I see! You’re casting me off, father!” She cried, “It all makes sense now!”

She knew better than anyone what being an heir was like—and how easy it was to be cast off, especially if you were an only daughter born to a noble family—but still, his words stung. He’d always kept her at arms length—so why did it still feel like her heart was cracking as he pushed her away—out of his life?

This feeling… it's smothering me!

Tears ran silently down her face from eyes red and soulless.

<--<< >>-->

As everything had unfolded, Jason was stirring. His entire body screamed, but the argument between father and daughter had woken his mind from slumber.

Where am I? What’s happening? He thought, peering around him.

The first thing that he registered was that he was being heavily supported by someone—who had pale blond hair and who was not Lirya.

Who…? Jason wondered, attempting to move a bit.

The person supporting Jason turned around and blinked, “Oh, you’re awake!” He whispered.

“Who… are you?” Jason asked, his voice raspy.

“My name is Leus.”

Jason squinted in the semi-darkness, peering at Leus’ clothing before saying, “You’re a noble, aren’t you? What are you doing here?”

Hostage?

Leus nodded and answered, “Yes, but I am not a monster. I can be here of my own free will, you know,” He smiled, sensing what Jason had thought, “I assure you that I mean you no harm. Can you stand?”

Jason tentatively tested his weight on the floor and found that he was able to stand—although somewhat shakily—on his own two feet. He gripped Leus’s arm for support and took a deep breath, steadying himself. His jaw pulsed with a steady throb of pain as did his other wounds.

He watched Lirya’s exchange with her father and his eyes widened when things got dangerous. Lirya brought a knife to her throat and levelled determined eyes at her father, and from the shadows one of the guards crept forward with his sword in hand. The guard was loyal to lord Rowan and showed no hesitation in carrying out his lord’s order.

Jason lurched forward, staggering forward towards the group. He fell heavily to the ground and grunted as pain lanced through his body, but heaved himself to his feet again as the feeling of urgency surged through his veins and gave him the energy to get to her side.

She’s innocent! He thought, She doesn’t deserve to die!

He threw himself at Lirya’s back dimly registering Leus’s panicked yell in the background. As Jason entered the scene and became aware of the guard’s startled expression as the sword point drew near Jason’s body.

Realising only now what a predicament he had put himself into, Jason thought, ah… why did I do this again? Father and Lily and Edmund are waiting for me at home…

The sword point entered his body and for a moment he felt nothing. Jason looked in bewilderment at the sword lodged in his stomach as though it was not real. He coughed and dark, crimson blood splattered the cobbled tiles of the dungeon floor. Bright, flaring pain erupted as the guard pulled his sword from the wound and tears welled in Jason’s eyes.

A loud ringing noise sounded in his ears and in the background he could faintly hear voices calling him. His vision blurred and darkness crept around the edges of his vision. His body crumpled the ground, but he neither felt nor heard it.

Bright, dazzling light flooded his vision and he peered around in confusion—and took in the scene in front of him. His own body lay below him, lifeblood flowing from a gaping wound in the stomach. Lirya knelt by his side and shook his body calling his name frantically as her voice increased in volume each time his heart failed to beat and his body failed to respond. Leus stood, stunned, then dropped to his knees with eyes wide and clouded. His hands trembled as he could do nothing but watch.

Jason’s own thoughts drifted to himself and wondered why his body was visible to him. He raised his arm and found that he could see right through it.

“What’s going on?! Help! Lirya? Anyone! Help… what’s happening?!” He shouted, but no one made any indication that they had even heard him.

Jason felt a faint but insistent tug deep inside his soul, beckoning to him.

What’s happening? Jason thought, Should I follow this feeling?

As he contemplated, the feeling grew stronger and began to blossom into pain. Jason winced and, to his horror, saw his hand fading.

“Can you shut up?” A clear, angelic voice grumbled.

Jason whirled around and found himself face to face with a creature with features so blindingly bright that it was cloaked in light. Jason briefly made out stunningly white, feathery wings before turning his head away.

The figure sighed in apparent annoyance, “Damn you, Rhyslin, for leaving me to deal with your stupid descendants!”

It turned to Jason’s rapidly fading form and muttered a few incomprehensible words and instantly Jason felt the pain melt away and his form stabilised, glowing briefly.

“It is not your time to die… not when the world needs you, Rhyslin’s heir. Tell the others that near-death will awaken their powers.”

“Wait-” Jason cried, but the creature cut him off again, “Go, now! Enter your own body in the mortal realm.”

The creature vanished as suddenly as it had appeared and Jason was pulled back towards his mortal body. He was engulfed with darkness but the wound no longer hurt.

He could hear sobbing and the sounds were harsh against his ears.

All he could think was, What in the name of Pelos the Great just happened???

His heart thundered in his chest and Jason slowly opened his eyes.