Igniferous Iconoclast
1.23.2013
Summary: Paranormal. All Endymion wants is his castle and kingdom back. But his stepmother has different plans.
Rated: M for maturity in nature and currently allegories to more and possible more in the future.
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AN: Oh why do I have to have so many stories that I think are good ideas and pulling me away from the others that I have started but have not yet finished? Because they sit there and barate me until I start on them so I don't lose the idea but instead I lose the momentum? Sometimes, but sometimes taking a step away from a story I've worked on for awhile is actually a good thing. It gives me a chance to come back and edit and re-evaluate how it was going to go and what works better. I know that's right. Or at least it is with a few of my stories. Anyway, if you'll notice, this is a new story and I think it's a rather interesting idea if I don't toot my own horn too loudly. It's just... well you'll have to wait and see.
AN2: And let me reassure you, though it doesn't seem likely these chapters until you get into the heart of the matter do after all, matter. Even if you might be confused for a little while, just give it a chance. :) BTW, there are a lot of changes not only because its paranormal but because it worked better this way. What I mean by this... well personalities are very similar, looks too for the most part, but a lot of outliers aren't the same, they've been shuffled around a bit and are a bit more archetypal, not to mean that they're cliché in any manner.
AN3: I know, not an update to DD or Endymion or really any of the others that you're so patiently waiting for. At least I have positive news on DD, I've written the chapter, I'm just sitting on it until I can revamp it a little. Just a little. But I was pulled off that story and onto these two because they were bothering me to be written. This one because its so different and that other one you'll see in a moment for a similar reason and because I've been reading. I should never read, it gives me too many ideas that are so off from what I'm reading... hehe...
Chapter 1
The commotion of the market was almost deafening and he couldn't hear his companion for the life of him over it. The woman was soft spoken to begin with. He leaned in closer to hear her words and her lips brushed the shell of his ear but he felt nothing but the physical touch.
He gave a nod and the woman disappeared into the crowd and he went his separate way. They would not meet again. He moved easily in the crowd, being swallowed up by it, blending in with all the people who looked like him.
He stopped at a vendor and purchased a new outfit, changing and then disposing of his old clothes in different locations throughout the bazaar. He pulled his hood up and over his head, nobody would recognize him now, and nobody would look twice at him as he hunched and used a stick to help him walk. A few months ago and the stick wouldn't have just been a prop in his new image but something he really had needed but refused to use. He refused to allow that weakness to show and he refused to let himself depend on it.
A few months ago and everything was so very different but not nearly different enough. Not nearly so. He should have done something about this years ago but he had let things drift through his fingers like clouds to a child.
Well he wasn't a child anymore. Hadn't been for a long time. His hands aged before his eyes and he didn't even need to look into that mirror to see an old man looking back at him. Time had passed him by, long before he even knew what hit him.
The face in the mirror was unrecognizable to the youth and vitality he had been not long ago. He staggered through the streets bumping into people and many of them he shouldn't have dared to touch, much less insult them by doing so rudely. But he got a free pass from most of them, he was an old man and they turned to give him an earful but then let him be. Even they could not fault him, society had not crumbled so far.
Not yet. It almost made him feel bad for taking their money. They were the royal guard, surely, surely if they still had goodness in them to let the old man pass without anger, they'd begin again to see the wrongs they had committed? That salvation would be upon them if only he said a word? But looking into their eyes he knew they were too far gone, too far down the path they had chosen.
Not all of them started out so willingly but to be a guard member now, they had to sign up for it and nobody could possibly have their eyes so closed as to not see what their position meant? He could not let himself feel for any of the guard which he relieved of a few coins, he could only pray that they'd let it pass and not take it out on anyone else. Learning that the old man wasn't quite so trustworthy.
Even still, there were a few members of the guard that he avoided, that he did not risk any sort of confrontation. He could handle it, protect himself, but he did not dare risk it. He could take the brunt of their blows but the impact might slow him down, delay what was to come. He dared not allow that to happen. It was too great of a risk and with too damning of consequences.
He also wanted to protect those who risked their lives in coming here, to help him. He wouldn't put them in further danger. He would try to reduce the amount of harm that was bound to come their way. He willed himself to be patient, all would be resolved today and by the time night fell, the balance could begin to be restored. He just had to wait. His opportunity would come.
A noise heralded the start of it. The streets were being cleared at the busiest time in the busiest areas and he thought again that the woman had no idea of what she was doing, that she was ill-fit to rule and was only going to cause things to become worse. All she was capable of was disrupting the balance. She'd send people home today after she made her speech and they'd go hungry tonight, go home poorer than they had the day before and in this place they could not handle that kind of blow.
He pushed against a wall as a man who knew his tricks walk by, he tried to blend into the shadows. It was difficult with the sun beating down straight above them, offering little to no shade even in between the buildings. He had to fall back into the deep crevice between them to find anything, a place where the sun wouldn't shine no matter when or how it tried to reach its golden fingers down. Nothing would brighten these areas and it would remain cool for eternity.
He brought his cloak tighter around him but didn't shiver, refused to allow something as basic human as that to register. He could feel the heavy and cold presence of one of his weapons at his side, expertly cloaked from casual eyes. Only someone highly trained would ever notice it and it was like a blanket being draped over his shoulders. It comforted him in a way nothing else would. As long as he had these things, he would not fail, could not. Most of the others were stashed away somewhere he could easily get to without being found by anyone else, intentional or accidental.
He spun and flew to towards the darkened wedges narrowing in towards the center and climbed the buildings, looking for a spot to see but remain unseen. He finally found it and he hunkered down, knowing it was time to wait. And wait he did. He waited while the hot sun beat down at him, made only worse by his dark clothing and the sun moved slowly across the sky. The days were longer now than ever and he felt himself sweat, especially after the cooler air below.
He ignored it all, focusing his gaze in on the spot he knew she'd be. Waiting for her arrival to be complete and for her to turn and face her audiences. During her announcements was when he'd strike. She was being especially reticent today, refusing to leave her carriage. She spoke to the people as she passed by in it, through a drawn window. The curtain remained and it made it impossible for him to act, he had to be certain. To act without that proof and everything would be for naught.
Finally, finally the day drew to a close and with the spotlight only on her, a tactical waiting game until the sun set low enough that its light shined through the only way it could through the city, onto the center of it, she emerged.
It the light of the sunset, she was gorgeous. She was like flames stepping out of the carriage, all golds and reds and was difficult to look at unless you shaded your eyes. It was like she was that fire, brilliant, uncontrollable, powerful. Beautiful.
But she was also ruthless and destructive and needed to be put out. Every flame had its moment and then it ceased to exist. He would be that dose of water. And if he were to fail. Well there was always backup plans. Contingencies which he only knew a handful of and that's the way he wanted it. If he were to be taken down, he wouldn't be able to talk even if he wanted to.
He removed his bow from his hip, placing it on the edge of the wall, lining up his shot as she moved into the location he'd known she'd always go. It was such a shame someone so breathtakingly beautiful was going to be deprived of oxygen very soon. His line of sight was clear and he drew back the wire, knowing how far and how fast he needed it to be to complete this mission.
He saw his signal from behind the woman, a simple reflection against something metal, the light catching it only briefly and it wasn't repeated. He let the wire go and the arrow flew beautifully through the air. Dispersing all that was in its way, gliding like a shark through the ocean and it almost reached its target.
She was pushed out of the way at the last minute, and he closed his eyes with regret even as more arrows flew, a barrage of them hoping one would have an intended impact. Yet none managed to graze even an inch of pale flesh. The woman was boxed back up into her carriage and it was raced through the town towards the best exit it could find, there were four and all were covered by one group or another.
She'd be dead soon enough, they'd catch her and take care of her on the spot. No trial was needed, no jury or people to give a verdict. She was already tried and condemned. There would be no mercy for her. His eyes squeezed tighter, refusing to mourn for the woman or to feel any sympathy for her. This was her lot in life, this is what she chose. He was only trying to figure out what went wrong.
The man who saved her life must have seen the message and put things together. He too was well aware of his tricks and ploys. He would have known exactly what to look for. The man on the roof pushed up against it and got quickly to his feet. They needed a wild card, someone to come up with new ideas that would never be figured out, a different way of thinking to him and his companions. If the deed wasn't already done.
He dropped down to the market that was now devastated of its booths, devoid of life and people and he stalked towards another exit. He too would flee this place, the knowledge he sought would find him long before anyone else knew where to look. By the time any person reached him, he'd already be long gone onto his next location. He stopped and turned back when something caught his eyes.
It was a picture of a young man with an arrogant lift to his lips. Below it was a reward for his live capture. The price was significantly reduced if he was dead. The man in the hood shook his head. That stylized version did not capture the man right, there was never an arrogant look gracing his features. With a smirk he tore the page off and rolled it up and shoved it into his book. It was going into the pile with the others. It wasn't every day a man on the run was so sought after, so famous. Besides, if everything went right today, there wouldn't even be a price for his head. Or it would be greatly increased. He wasn't sure yet how it would go down, but he knew what a majority thought. It was the fringe society and the ones who wouldn't mind turning a profit that he needed to worry about.
Everybody would know his face, everywhere he went, but nobody would recognize him when he walked through their streets. This man on the parchment would never be seen again. He grabbed up his stash and mounted his horse, pushing it to its limits until the town was a distant memory and he couldn't remember what it looked like and wouldn't get any reminders by looking back and seeing nothing in the direction he came.
His lips pulled at the side, oh yes, this was just the beginning. He'd take what came and if it was not satisfactory he'd just have to find a way to up the stakes and make sure it became what he wanted. He almost always got what he wanted. The queen would die and a prince would rise.