False Dawn: Two
For his entire life, Janus Ekans had done whatever he could to prove himself and rise in the ranks of his father’s court, but it was all worthless in the end. Now, the only path to survival is to rely on his father’s killer, Duke Logan Ackroyd, even if it means discarding his pride and blood ties. It might not be freedom, but at least it won't be his head rolling on the floor next.
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False Dawn:
Idiom: A situation that looks like it is beginning to improve when, in reality, it is not.
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The days of travel to the capital were long, to say the least. And things weren’t exactly improved by the fact that he hadn’t seen the Duke since he had demonstrated his magic. It made sense of course; the Duke had said he needed to speak with his emperor before anything else, but the passage of time had caused the seeds of doubt within Janus to grow like weeds. But it was too late to escape.
It was more than clear to see where the border between the two nations lay. Even if the large wall and gate weren’t here, it was quite easy to determine. Because moments ago they had been paraded through a border town past all the commoners who looked on in shock, awe, and worry. Moments ago Janus had heard their chitters and felt their gazes as he kept his head hanging low. Moments ago there was so much going on, and now there was nothing. On this side of the gates, the grasses appeared dull in color, or they had withered entirely. The trees were trying and failing to sprout their leaves, and silence rang loud. As they went on into the dying forest, he couldn’t even hear a sound other than the convoy itself. No birds singing, no wind blowing, no animals scurrying. The air itself felt heavier than air ever should, and the smell of death pierced his nostrils.
This was the curse his father had placed.
He had only ever known a few things about the curse. First, he knew that his father had gone to war against his mother’s homeland in order to get what he needed to cast it after they had refused involvement. Second, he knew that the blood of the former kingdom of Osteria had served as a catalyst for the curse. And third, that it had crippled The Angoro Empire. He had asked questions in the past, how it managed to take down an entire nation, he had asked how people had let his father do this, and he had asked why The Empire was believed to be a threat… and yet now, seeing its effects with his own eyes, he realized he had been asking the wrong questions all along. Now he knew that it crippled them by seemingly sucking the life from any and everything. People had let his father do such a thing because they were too cowardly to stand up to a tyrant- but that was a feeling he knew well. And his father’s greed had been the reason to do this, not because they were a threat but because it was what the tyrant king had chosen to do. He knew all of these answers, but he still never asked until now what he could do to help? Before, it had just been a fact of life that The Empire was cursed. But now that meant something different, and he knew the lump of guilt in his throat meant nothing to anyone here.
The feelings of guilt only increased the next day as they rode through the first village on this side of the border.
They rode through slowly, but Janus couldn’t tell if it was due to the Duke choosing to parade them through or if it was due to the village’s condition. The village seemed as if it had been bathed in gray. The homes were small, and many were in different forms of disrepair. Some spots were crumbling, other homes were caved in, and some looked like they had been repaired over and over and yet still it hadn’t worked. The villagers themselves looked starved, but given the dead and empty fields they had passed, Janus supposed it made sense, but it didn’t make it any easier to see. He never knew skin could sit that close to bone, or that a person could be so skinny, or how hollow a person’s face could look.
His siblings seemed to be thinking the same, as Janus’ youngest brother asked, “What happened to them?”
The boy was quickly hushed, but his question went unanswered as none of them wanted to speak the truth in front of the victims. But given the silence around them- the silence in which a normal village would have shouts of joy, anger, chatter, laughter, or the sounds of various animals as opposed to this horrific silence- given the silence around them Janus could hear the words spoken in the wagon ahead of them.
“It’s horrible,” someone had said quietly. He wasn’t sure who, but he heard the Crown Prince respond.
“Idiot! It’s their own fault!” he spat, drawing Janus’ gaze. The Crown Prince’s clothes (much like the rest of them) were soiled and ripped, his hair was matted to his forehead and sticking up at odd angles, and despite his dirty appearance and his hands bound, he still seemed as proud as the crown askew on his head. He sat up straighter, seemingly knowing he had the attention of everyone within a mile, and looked out at the villagers with a sneer. “They were going to use their magic to destroy us. Don’t waste your pity on those who get what they deserve.”
The silence was suffocating. Janus waited a moment, and then another, and another. Waiting for someone- likely one of the knights to remove his brother’s head, but the swing of a sword never came.
The former Queen gave a slight yet still visible sigh of relief before she spoke, “You can’t say-”
A sword swing never came- but the rock did.
Janus only noticed it the moment before it knocked the crown off the smug man’s head. It fell to the wagon floor with a clatter, and as the blood began to fall down the crownless Crown Prince’s face, so did more rocks. All at once, they seemed to come through both sides of the bars, and yet all Janus could do was use his arms to cover his face. The silence was gone now. Now was the sound of rocks hitting skin and shouts of pain that were drowned out by the screams of anguish the villagers let out as they let the stones fly. He kept his head down and covered as he scanned his siblings in the wagon with him. The three younger ones had made their way into the middle, and the others were trying to block the stones with their bodies. Janus squeezed his eyes shut momentarily as a well-sized stone struck the center of his back, but ultimately, he scooted forward to circle them as well. And as the pelting continued and blood began to trickle from his head, his arm, and his back- he ultimately chose to undo the progress he had made as he began to undo the bonds from the three youngest children. He wouldn’t fully free them. He couldn’t go that far… but at least he could give them a chance to protect themselves. Janus’ gaze drifted behind him to the shouting and jeers, and he couldn’t help but notice a child who appeared to be on his last leg- and yet, with the little strength he had, he threw pebbles at the wagons.
Janus closed his eyes as he looked forward once more as guilt and other emotions he had repressed seemed to bubble to the surface. He could almost laugh at himself- what had happened to his perfect mask? What had happened to his unaffected gaze? What had happened to his false confidence? He had been full of it back in the ballroom when the Duke was a hair's width away from taking his life- but here and now… Janus squeezed his eyes tightly as another stone slammed painfully into his hand, and yet he refused to let a tear shed. He had no right to do so, not here… not in this Empire. Not after all his family had done. And not after what he- what he personally had done.
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His family kept their mouths shut throughout the next stops on their journey. The locals they passed either watched in silence or cursed in loud whispers, but no more rocks were thrown- but he didn’t doubt that some had considered it. Throughout all of it, the soldiers had paid them nor their wounds no mind, the closest thing to concern being allowing them the choice to dunk their bloodied and dirtied bodies into a river they crossed, which was a color far from blue. Upon looking at the gray and thick water, Janus instead had negotiated to use a bit of the drinking water he was allotted to wipe some of the blood from his face, to which a soldier had simply told him not to complain about it later. But thankfully, none had beat him or even shouted at him for freeing his younger siblings from their bonds, likely assuming that they were no threat. But then again Janus refused to get complacent in his assumption that this wouldn't come back to haunt him later.
A thought that was perpetuated by the convoy’s sudden halt one afternoon and the Duke’s approach to the prison wagon. His eyes had scanned them all with disinterest before his eyes locked with Janus’ and he stepped back as his knights moved to unlock the bars. Janus was slow to climb out as his muscles ached, but the moment his feet were touching the ground the man was leading him away. Janus followed as closely as he could as the Duke led the way up the hill they had been riding beside until they were far from sight of everyone else.
“I’ve found another use for you,” the Duke stated simply as he came to a halt. “The scout I sent ahead didn’t return. Nor did the one I sent after her. I need someone who can follow their trail and get out quickly to tell me what’s ahead. Turn into a bird that should suffice… preferably one that’s small and fast.”
Janus would never admit how much he hated the fact that he wasn’t given an option, so rather than agreeing, he asked a question. “Why do you need scouts in your own empire?”
The look the Duke gave in response screamed he was wondering if Janus’ intelligence had plummeted to a depth below zero, but he answered nonetheless. “Monsters were part of our well-deserved curse.”
Janus couldn’t hide his grimace at the man’s sarcasm, “I can’t stay in non-human forms for too long.”
“Then be quick about it.”
“But I-”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, Prince Janus.”
“I understand that,” Janus tried slowly. “But Duke-” Janus tried to hide his anger and surprise at himself as it suddenly struck him that he didn’t know who he was speaking to. He knew well that there were three dukes of the empire and one archduke underneath the crown, but of the three, he had no clue which this man was. The man wore nothing to identify his house other than the navy and black color armor he shared with his soldiers, and while Janus had spent time learning the crests of the Empire, color had never been that important. Ultimately, Janus took a deep breath, attempting to make himself appear as if he was simply considering his phrasing as opposed to being the idiot he was. “What you’re asking of me is more than I think I can do. I won’t lie and say that I’m not concerned for my own life, but also, I think there needs to be more to this plan than simply, ‘turn into a bird and go check it out.’”
The Duke paused, considering before he seemed to give a nod, “I never said there wasn’t. I was going to explain further once you transformed. The road forward is a clearly marked one, but that doesn’t mean it’s without danger. I have some chalk in a pouch. I’ll tie it to your leg and periodically, you can stop and mark a tree for us to know it’s safe up to that point. Simply come back if your mana runs out, but if there are issues and you need to run, drop the pouch near the dangerous area, and we can use that as a marker as to where the battle will take place. Does this plan suffice?”
“Y-yes, it does.”
“Then transform and get moving. We’ll follow after some time.”
Janus nodded once and began to focus on the image he held of his mind of a crow and how it looked compared to his own body, and what he had read about the animals in the past. It was a form he didn’t particularly like, but clearly, it was one which was necessary. The Duke reached down with an unaffected gaze and bent down, and Janus watched as a small sack was tied to his leg. He gave a few experimental flaps as he lifted off the ground, happy to find it didn’t weigh too much.
If the Duke was pleased, he didn’t show it; rather, he simply gathered Janus’ grimy clothes and tucked them under his arm. “Then you should get going, Prince Janus.”
Janus gave a curt nod as he began to fly upwards out of the trees, but he nearly fell back to earth in surprise and embarrassment when the Duke spoke again.
“Ackroyd. I am Logan, the Duke of Ackroyd,” Janus glanced back to see the man’s arms were crossed and a slight smile played on his lips. “But you knew that, of course.”
Rather than reply, Janus let out a caw as he took to the skies.
The feeling of wind in his feathers was something he always enjoyed when he took such a form. Transforming into a bird and feeling the sensation of flight was something that never failed to entice and excite, but now was not the time for the luxury of having fun. From here above the trees, there wasn’t much he could see beyond the tops of barely living trees themselves and the dirt road they were meant to follow. So, without having much choice but to do as he was asked, he glided down towards the road and began to fly above the trees beside it. He flew a slight distance and around a bend where he knew the convoy would not be able to see, and he picked a tree visible from the road. But as he approached the tree, he silently wondered who exactly he was supposed to get the chalk on it. Yes it was tied around his ankle, but who was he supposed to leave a defined mark on it without reaching a finger into the bag? His wings didn’t have the kind of dexterity to do as he pleases while keeping aloft.
He paused for a moment before, ultimately he decided to try something. He picked a low-hanging branch that was clearly visible from the road, and after backing up a bit, he flew just barely over it so the bag of chalk would bump into it. The bag did so- thankfully without snagging- and upon flying backward a bit, there was a mark of chalk left on the branch. It wasn’t much, however, so he could only hope the knights had good eyes.
He moved quickly to get the job done, but also because his nerves were rising with each passing moment. He knew he didn’t have long in this form- but he wasn’t sure how long that was. His magic had been something he had honed to take the form of others to aid in lying for whatever he had needed (which, more often than not, was simply to sneak out of the castle from time to time). This was something he simply wasn’t used to, and yet he had no choice but to continue. Janus flew on, trying to focus on the sound of anything other than his quick beating heart and the sound of his wings. He marked tree after tree with ease, but his anxieties only grew- if the scouts had truly been attacked by monsters, he should’ve seen or heard something by now, right? Or was he simply being impatient? He landed on a branch briefly and forced himself to take a deep breath, and then another, and another. Panic would only make this worse. He needed to keep calm. To remain unaffected. That is what he had learned to do in the past, and it’s how he would remain in the future. He had already learned the hard way what had happened when he let his mask slip too far.
He took off.
Flying and marking trees, as time progressed, his mana began to trickle away. He wasn’t sure how long he had been at this when weariness began to creep into his mind. He flew along silently, noting how the bag felt lighter than when he had started and wondering how much further he could make it before he needed to turn back. Upon marking another tree, he sat atop the branch he had marked and gazed at the road ahead. It looked the same as when he started, with dying trees on either side, but it seemed that a small amount of other plants had increased. It was nothing in comparison to a normal forest, but here, with the occasional bush, flowers, or trees that dared to have one or two green leaves, it only looked “healthier,” where the road curved around a bend to go around a hill. The bend didn’t appear too far, but it was hard to gauge in a form so different from his own, but ultimately he chose the bend as his final marking. After that, he’d fly back, or if he couldn’t make it all the way, he’d perch on a tree until the Duke caught up. Janus gave his wings a stretch before he lifted himself in the air. He soared ahead, honestly just ready for this entire day to be done with. He was ready to just go back to the prison wagon and sleep for two days straight to recover his mana when he rounded the bend.
The first thing he noticed was the intense greenery. Yes, he had seen it improving, but now it felt as if he was in a real forest. The grass was tall and lush, the trees thicker and flourishing, and the wind that blew through even felt clear and kind. It was as if he had gone somewhere else entirely. It was curiosity that pulled him further in than he initially intended to go, but it was the second thing he noticed which stopped him from progressing much further. A lack of animals. It stood to reason that an oasis such as this should’ve had many animals within it as they tried to survive- but it would make sense that only the strong would. Only the predators- perhaps something like monsters. As panic rose within him once again Janus turned and began to fly back the way he came. He’d fly around the bend and then perch and peck off the string around his leg. He’d then go back and explain his worries. He hadn’t made it ten feet before he saw the third thing he hadn’t expected- a woman. She was short and sitting high up in a tree, but she wore the same colors as the Duke’s knights. One of her eyes frantically looked about as she searched for something Janus couldn’t see. Her other eye, meanwhile, was closed tightly as a stream of blood from her head kept it shut. One of her hands held a dagger close to her chest, which rose and fell quickly in panic. Her other hand held the tree so she could steady herself as she shifted slightly, but Janus watched as her face contorted in pain. Adrenaline had never felt so cold in his veins as Janus quickly perched himself on a tree beside hers and began to make work of a string holding the chalk. He pecked at it again and again, wanting it to fall so he could mark the place the soldier was for the Duke, but the woman herself kept drawing his eye in worry. She shifted again, and from this angle he could see as she tried to move one of her legs up onto the branch instead of simply dangling. But the three bright green protrusions that pierced her protested. Janus held in a gag at the sight of her bloody leg with the green things bored through- but he managed to get the chalk bag to fall. The moment he was freed, he leapt from the branch into the air to go find someone who could actually help- when he noticed the fourth thing.
He had seen something move out of the corner of one of his eyes, and he barely had time to register the giant green blur- before it pierced his wing. A scream of pain escaped his lips as he fell- his body transforming as he did until he hit the ground, forcing out what little air he had within him. He couldn’t even muster up a groan as his arm screamed in pain from what he could now see was a giant green needle or thorn piercing his left forearm. The pain was searing- greater than anything he had ever felt, but he drove his teeth into his tongue, too afraid to move or even make a sound. But his eyes, wet with tears, did drift to the soldier in the tree and the pitying look she gave him. Sure, she wasn’t in a great place, but at least- unlike him- she was hidden, and she was clothed.
Janus took a deep yet shaking breath as he tried to muster what little mana he had yet to turn into something that would allow him to flee just around the bend he had come from- but he couldn’t muster a single ounce of the power. He couldn’t feel his mana at al, as if it had been sealed off… he could almost laugh at the stupidity of it- of himself. And as the sun above him felt cooler as shadows looked over him and the sound of something approaching grew louder as the soldier stiffened in place, Janus couldn’t stop the tears in his eyes from falling. Nor could he stop the panic from making it harder and harder to breathe. He couldn’t stop the pain he felt. He couldn’t stop the creature from approaching him. He couldn’t do anything- but with the last of everything he had- he let out a scream.
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