A heavy rumble echoed through the night as another flash of light tore across the sky.
The castle- the city, lay dormant. Shrouded in the darkness of sleep and in the mist of pelting rain.
He ran...his footfalls all but a whisper against the downpour. His garments were soaked and clinging, the hems of his gown and cloak stained brown with grime. Shoes long forgotten, his feet burned against the friction of the course ground. He felt his balance waver as he clipped the edge of his dress mid-stride, pushing down a cry of alarm.
Panic rose in his chest as he heard a distant siren, far off muttering shifting into shouts of rage behind him, the quake of an army at his heels. This was it...he'd been noticed- spotted! All it took was one pair of coincidental eyes, one servant checking in on him only to find his empty room instead! He had failed. He could feel hands gripping, tearing at him, dragging him back. He felt sick...a rush of fear and anger lit up his senses and he turned to look at his back-
The city was as quiet and lifeless as ever. No alarms, no hands, no king.
He almost stopped, the relief turning his limbs slack...but he couldn't. He was still out in the open, still so very unsafe...
This was the only chance he would get at freedom. He wouldn't fail.
Forcing the air out of throat, he ran faster. He paid no mind to the stabbing pain in his side or the soreness in his middle as his eyes caught a familiar figure in the distance. She regarded him stoically as he approached, bowing partially in respect. Her gold eyes ran over him, taking in his ragged appearance as the reality of their situation began to set in.
She was going to help her Highness escape the tyranny of her home world.
It was treason. The bluntness of it had never truly hit her before now...they'd spoken of it plenty, had planned and calculated, but they'd had time. It was always such a far away thought to her, but now...it was actually happening.
She didn't want to think about what would happen when his absence was finally noticed.
They shared a silent moment before she stepped aside, revealing the open access door of an escape pod. Technically a Trade Runner, but he sure wasn't going to be bringing it back for service. He turned, taking a final look at the dark horizon before he steeled his nerves and approached his body guard. He reached up toward her face, internally thankful that he didn't have to ask out loud for her to bend down, and placed a soft kiss against her forehead before briskly entering the pod.
The door shut and sealed with a low hiss, the inside of the runner slowly coming to life as the figure sat in front of the console. He removed his hood and headdress, allowing his black antennae to perk upward.
