Branson hadn’t seen his little sister, Bianca, in forever as he had been on tour while she was doing her choreography gig and he had missed her dearly. He parked his car and grabbed the big teddy bear that he had gotten her on the way home as he was here to surprise her. Branson cared for her tremendously as they were really close, and he couldn’t wait to see her reaction to seeing him behind the door. He got out of the car and made sure to close the door as quiet as possible before heading towards the front door, knocking on it as he placed the teddy bear in front of his face while he awaited for her to answer it. A huge smile never leaving his facial features while standing there.
In retrospect, Bran should have known to expect it. In times of crisis, trust was a precious thing. It left you too quickly, and you were left standing in the shadows in an attempt at finding any light. But Bran was surrounded by light. Did that make finding the truth in it more challenging?
As one, the guards and Bran made their way through the halls. Blood and bodies made for new decorations on the white marble and porcelain. Bran tried not to look at too many faces; their would be time for grieving when this was through.
The palace was large, and the trek though it was only lengthened by the need for stealth and silence. They crept around corners, peered through windows, and fought when they ran into the enemy. But it was only one or two in the halls, and they were easy to be rid of. Where was the rest of this army? They had managed to kill most of the royal family so quickly, and yet now it was too silent.
“Highness,” the spiral around his neck murmured, whispering into his ear. “Do not reply, but I fear the usurpers are among us.”
Bran stiffened. He flicked his ear in acknowledgement, eyes glancing between the small group of guards he now crept through the castle with.
“I think it is why we do not find any now. They will lead you somewhere quiet and kill you.” The spiral slithered around his neck until she was looking behind them. “Only two of our number I trust.”
Bran’s voice was barely a whisper. “And you?” “I have only ever defended you, Highness.” She did not move from her spot, but he felt her fidget. “I will attack them,” she promised. “I am fast - it is why I was chosen to be on your person.”
Not risking too much movement, Bran only shook his head slightly. They turned a corridor, one of the guards looking at him and ushering him ahead. Bran waited until they were going down a straight corridor again before speaking. “I will not risk your life so easily. We all must live if we are to keep the castle.”
The spiral hissed. “The castle is forfeit! You cannot hope to hold it. You must live, so that you can fight for it in the future.” Bran felt the spiral loosen from around his neck, the armor lightly scraping against each other. “Stay in your dragon form until you are certain you are safe. Your scales will give you better protection. Only when you are not being followed should you change, and stay like that so you are not recognized.”
Bran could not find the words to stop her. Was it because he knew she made sense? Still, he had to fight his body not to stop her. This sacrifice was a logical one, but it did not hurt him any less to know that she was going to get herself killed so that he may live. This was the truth of being royality.
“Take to the skies. You are faster on wings than legs. Will you run?”
Bran hesitated. And then he nodded.
“Fly safe. Glory to the crown.” The words were the normal words spoken to the royal family, but here they carried more weight. Then she was peeling off of him, quick as a whip, and launched herself at a dragon with her claws outstretched. Just like that, they took to fighting. Other than his protector, Bran couldn’t tell who was one of the usurpers and who wasn’t, but it didn’t matter. A coatl locked eyes with him and bared her teeth, and so Bran charged her with his horns before him. He impaled her against the wall and winced as her blood flecked his scales. Shaking her off, he backpedaled and then charged towards the window.
In a flurry of glass shards and blood, Bran burst through the ornate window. He fell for only a second before his wings unfurled and he caught the air, gliding away.
“After the prince! He must not surv-” The cry was caught off and Bran sent silent thanks to those who fought to defend him. To defend the castle. It would not be in vain.
The sounds of battle were quick to fade out and Bran felt his heart clench. There was no going back, he knew, but it did not stop him from hurting over abandoning the palace. He saw the forests to the right of the palace grounds and flew towards it, seeking refuge among the shadows. He would hide there until he could safely escape, and then he would find his sister and start rebui-
An imperial rose up from underneath him, flying upside down. Their claws ground their way into Bran’s underbelly, latching on and attempting to force him out of the sky. How had he been followed so quietly? And by an imperial no less?
With a roar, Bran slashed at the imperial, his thick claws gouging into their shoulder. He pulled the imperial closer to him to look at them and saw abyssal shadow eyes, dark as ink. Ah, that was how.
“Ra Osdan will carry the kingdom to glory!” the imperial snarled, seemingly unfazed by the wound Bran inflicted. “No more petty peace! We will find victory in his unending hunger!”
This unnerved Bran more than he would care to admit. He’d never heard of this ‘Ra Osdan’, and now apparently this dragon would see to take the throne. Bran matched the imperials snarl and lashed forward with his teeth. He caught the others neck and dug in, blood bursting into his mouth while his attacker roared in pain. Bran felt claws tear into his belly in reply. Stars danced across his vision, but Bran would not be bested. Aela still lived. Some were still loyal to the crown. They would get their home back one day.
Even if Bran would not be there to see it.
Bran brought his claws to the others throat, digging them in tightly while he wrapped his tail around their waist. He leaned in close to be heard over the wind as their bodies plummeted to the ground. “When Ra Osdan is killed, I will fight him in death.” With a bloodied snarl, Bran pierced further into the enemy's neck even as he felt claws slice clean through the flesh of his stomach.
As Bran died, he thought of how lucky he was to die before hitting the ground.
Bran was shocked, and it was this that kept him rooted in spot for longer than he would later care to admit. A better prince would have lept into action, but Bran’s kingdom was one of peace. Such violence was an atrocity on their land, and not something he was familiar with dealing with.
It was a guards cry of outrage and distress that woke Bran, and he finally started to breathe again. “Highness,” he heard the guard say, the soft tink of metal coming closer, “Away from the windows. Guards!” He felt the the strong arms of the guardian tug him back, felt the familiar cloth of the guard’s blue cape brush against his side. The sound of others rushing to the room were frantic and loud in the otherwise empty hall.
Bran refocused once he felt the guard shake him. “-to the king and queen!” The guardian was speaking to Bran in urgent tones, and the other guards were bustling around them.
“What?” Bran said, trying to piece together what the guardian had said.
“We need to take you to King Amardalis and the queen,” the guardian repeated, motioning the other guards to help. A spiral coiled itself around Bran’s neck, her unique armor sliding together to act as a barrier between the soft skin of his throat and any outside projectiles. Bran registered her protection with a blink before the other guards were bustling him forward. The hall was swarming now, and a handful formed a circle around the prince as they led him down the hall.
“My sisters!” Bran cried out, almost bringing the entire group to a halt. He felt the metal of armor pressing into his hind legs. He started to turn, but was obstructed.
“They’re being brought to the king as well,” a guard explained, Water eyes attempting to soothe him. “They’re under the protection of the guard as well.” With more insistence, he was ushered down the hall.
Bran’s mind raced. What had Orick been about to tell him? It had to have been why he was killed, and why he was so anxious. But if it was so important, then he should have woken someone, or approached the princesses. The two younger girls weren’t as responsible for the kingdom as Bran was - being the heir - or as his parents were, but they had a voice to speak with when it came to important matters. Amidst his grief over the loss of a trusted ally, he also felt a spark of anger. How had this come to happen?
They rounded the corner into the royal residential halls, but were stopped short by anxious and worried guards. Bran’s party was brought to a halt by a stout imperial with ivory eyes.
“What is it, Pierce?” the guardian leading Bran’s group said, sounding reasonably distressed.
“It’s the king and queen,” Pierce replied, eyes darting to Bran’s. “They’ve been killed.”
Bran felt a lot of things in that moment. Shock, primarily. How had things gone so bad so quickly? And anger - so, so much anger - that this had happened at all. He grabbed at the second, and let it propel him forward.
“Where are my sisters?” he demanded first, looking at all the tense faces around him. “They need to be taken somewhere safe. Alert the staff of the castle, and find out where these dragons came from.” He tugged at the spiral on his neck, but she only tightened her grip. “Find me some answers.”
“Here!” a voice called from down the hall. All heads turned to the new arrivals, a handful of guards and one of Bran’s sisters. They were all covered in blood, and there was a frantic look in his sister’s eyes.
“Aela?” he asked, rushing over. The guards moved to let him through. “Are you okay? Where’s Thedra?”
“They’re in the castle,” one of the guards answered for her. He looked at Bran, then the other guards. “A whole slew of them. They’re slaughtering there way through the halls. We- We were not fast enough, and there wasn’t enough of us. Thedra was killed quickly, and we barely escaped with a handful of dragons.”
Bran tugged the silent Aela over to him, and pointed his tail at the guards. “I want most of you to scour the castle, help out anyone you can. Evacuate the staff, keep our dragons alive.”
“What about you?” a thin-faced pearlcatcher asked. He looked up at Bran with wide eyes. “You’re the heir. You cannot die here, Bran.”
“A few must stay with you,” another guard replied, pointing at a few of the stronger dragons. “We’ll find a way out of the castle together.”
“No,” Bran replied. “I must stay here. They cannot take the palace.” He drew Aela back and she peered up at him with wide eyes. “Will you go with the guards, Aela? They can get you out of here safely.”
Aela hesitated, looking unblinkingly up at Bran. Then she nodded once and brushed her snout against Bran’s cheek. “Stay safe,” she whispered. She pulled back. “Please.”
Bran nodded, and then watched her go. He stood there a moment, and then signalled to his dragons. “Let’s go.”
On the first day, Bran recalls having slept in late. That didn’t normally happen often for him, and he feels that this was perhaps key in everything that happened after. Bran slept in, and no one came to wake him, and he woke to the sun in his face in a way that felt unfamiliar. He was usually out of bed by the time the warmth hit his pillows, but now it is what woke him. The sunlight was like a caress against his skin, and it was almost enough to convince him to pursue this newfound laziness, but he knew his duties.
He was in no rush as he pulled himself from bed, and Bran stretched each of his long legs as the sheets twisted and fell from his sides. He gave a mighty yawn, the rows of his teeth glinting in the sunlight, just as his wings did when he stretched them. When they caught the light, they almost looked like the stained glass that decorated the palace halls.
“Are you awake at last, Bran?” The voice that spoke outside his door was familiar, and it was accompanied by a knock. His close friend and trusted servant, Adjis, waited just outside the door.
Bran smiled with good humor. “At last,” he replied in echo, shuffling his wings back into place. “Why didn’t you wake me?” He turned to greet his friend as the other imperial moved into the room, holding the door open behind him with his haunches. Where Bran was light and shimmering genes, Adjis was muted browns and sleek scales. He looked as fine as an otter, and just as slippery too. His face was thinner than Bran’s, and always looked pensive. Perhaps in another life he’d have been a thief, or a rogue.
“It seems the castle is experiencing a lazy day today,” Adjis replied. “Not even the king and queen have left their rooms yet, although your sisters have already begun wandering through the halls.” Adjis looked amused at this last bit of news as he watched Bran dress in the fine silks and jewelry that sang with his nobility.
Bran barked out a laugh, using his tail to place his prince’s circlet around his ears and antlers. “Then it’s a wonder indeed that the castle rests. I’d of expected those two to have shook the very foundation already.”
Adjis matched Bran’s smile, and then nodded beyond the door. “Best hurry. I think Orick is getting impatient waiting around to deliver his news.”
“His news?”
“Yes, he’s apparently returned from a mission granted to him by the queen. I hardly noticed he was missing, he’s always so silent.” Adjis moved to leave the room, speaking over his shoulder, “He’s waiting in the grand conference room for you, and his feathers are all ruffled so you’d best meet him. Before your sisters take it upon themselves. Lightweaver knows we don’t need their - ah - wisdom.”
Bran laughed in lieu of a farewell, the door closing soundlessly behind Adjis. He was quick to finish getting dressed, and he slipped out of the door only moments later. The hall was decidedly quieter than normal, with only a few guards roaming the stone corridors. They all dipped their heads respectfully as Bran passed, but continued about their duties. No reason to stop unless Bran spoke to them, and he seldom did that these days.
The doors to the conference room were slightly ajar, and Bran brushed them fully open with a wing before stepping in. Orick was already there, the pearlcatcher’s paws clasped together in impatience. He stepped forward quickly as Bran entered, his brows knotting together.
“Finally,” he breathed, sounding relieved. “I have urgent news from Ortland. You-” Glass shattered from the window, and the dull thud of an arrow piercing flesh reverberated in the room. Orick’s eyes widened in shock before he collapsed at Bran’s feet, blood seeping into the grout of the freshly polished tile. He didn’t get back up. He’d been assassinated.
Branson had missed Dani miserably while being away on tour and wanted to surprise her. He had bought her flowers and a Starbucks gift card on the way over to her house because he loved spoiling her and showing her how much he did care and love her. Branson ran his fingers through his dark locks before grabbing the flowers and gift card from his passenger side seat. A deep breath fell past his lips as he made his way over to the front door and took the few steps that led up to it. He knocked on it a few times before taking a step back while waiting for his girlfriend to answer the door. Branson was excited to see her as it had felt like forever since he had seen her last and couldn’t wait to give her a big hug and kiss.
[text: Throbb] so i sometimes kinda wish i was dead hahahaha
[text: Throbb] oh god, that wasn’t meant for you robb, sorry
[text: Throbb] please don’t tell arya i sent that
[text: Lil Bro 2] Why do you say that? Is everything alright?
Branson took a drink of his juice before gazing over at the other next to him. “Look, I know that I’m always out of town since I’m on tour, but why don’t you come with me this time?” he suggested as a huge grin spread out across his facial features. “It will be a lot of fun, and you won’t have to worry about those stupid magazine rumors because you’ll be there the entire time,” Branson added.
