Persuasion

"Don't worry, sister. You're safe with me."

Phobos' hands gripped her shoulders, but they offered little comfort against the icy gale. Elyon had never seen a snowstorm as violent as this. Not in all of Heatherfield's worst winters or during the school ski trip. Had her friends… the 'Guardians' been responsible for the avalanche back then? She wouldn't put it past them now.

Irma cast rumbling storm clouds over the courtyard. Meridian might have benefitted from the much-needed rain, but then, Hay Lin turned the rain to snow. What few crops remained in the surrounding fields would perish.

The royal guards weren't faring much better with their meagre armour. They tried to flee for their lives, but they were all swallowed by the snow. She heard one ('Aluf' she thought his name was) slip and cry out in pain.

Elyon closed her eyes. Her subjects were suffering while she cowered in the castle doorway.

She could almost feel Cornelia watching her. Opening her eyes, Elyon met Cornelia's gaze. Cornelia was probably planning to snatch her up– or rescue Caleb…

Caleb! That's it!

Phobos started to steer her away from the door. "I'll take the princess to safety—"

"No."

His nails were digging into her shoulder now. "What?" he breathed.

"No," Elyon repeated, ducking out of his grasp. "I'm going to stop this."

"I won't allow you to enter a battle."

"The Guardians are ruthless," Cedric hissed. He pointed outside as Taranee's flames burst through the snowfall. "They will capture you– or worse! As head of the army, it's my duty to prevent that."

"As princess, it's my duty to protect Meridian," Elyon retorted. She looked towards the throne room. "I don't want to fight. I have an idea." Phobos and Cedric exchanged a frown, but they followed her.

The warm glow of the throne room had been cast into gloom by the storm. Wind and snow pelted against the stained glass windows, silencing the birdsong. No… the birds must have been hiding right now. A part of Elyon wanted to join them. She buried her hands in her sleeves. It was so cold that the flowers were wilting.

She held back a shiver at the sight of Caleb. Caleb's guards had left him to join the fight. He was struggling to cut his hands free with a knife. He froze when he noticed Elyon, hope flashing in his eyes. That hope darkened as Phobos and Cedric came in after her. He scrambled to his feet, still clutching the knife behind his back.

Cedric stepped towards him. Elyon threw her hand out. "Let me speak with him."

"Only if he drops that knife," Cedric growled. Caleb grunted something through his gag.

"Drop it," Elyon commanded, her voice echoing off the walls of the room. When that didn't work, she added, "Please, Caleb. Cornelia and the others are out there tearing everything apart…"

Elyon hoped it was her tactful manner, rather than the mere mention of Cornelia, that made him toss the knife away.

"He still can't be trusted," Cedric argued. "We should bring him before the Guardians and demand a trade. His life for their compliance." Caleb edged back, his gaze darting to the door.

"Or," Elyon said slowly, "we can talk."

"Princess, I must insist that you wait—"

"Give her a minute," Phobos allowed.

Elyon crept towards Caleb as if he was a wounded animal. "I'm sorry for how the guards… for how I treated you," she murmured. "I know you had to keep your identity a secret on Earth." She wouldn't have believed he was a rebel leader from another world, anyway. "Not all of it was a lie though— you really do care about the Guardians… and we were friends, right?"

Gently, she removed his gag, only for him to spit, "We were, till Phobos got to you."

"We can be friends again— and the girls," Elyon tried, nearly pleading. "But you have to accept that this is where I belong and my brother has Meridian's best interests at heart. We're willing to form a peace treaty with the rebels and the Guardians... if only you would listen."

The room seemed to brighten up, regaining some of its usual splendour.

"I'm listening," Caleb mumbled. Then, he blinked and shook his head. "It's Phobos who never listens. The rebels tried negotiating at the start of his reign, but he—"

"My brother has made mistakes," Elyon admitted quietly. Orange petals circled she and Caleb, shutting them off from Phobos' view. "We all have."

"I… have," Caleb said. There was a faraway look in his eyes. "And my family…"

"But Phobos wants to set things right now, and so do I, more than anything." She imagined a Meridian where everyone could live in peace; the rebels could join the army if they pleased, their families would no longer be miserable, and when her brother passed, she would be there to lead them. She would pardon the Guardians— her friends. She would pardon all of them, if only they stopped fighting.

Wistfully, Caleb agreed, "That's all I want." He dropped to his knees as the leaves settled on the floor.

"He's bowing to her," Phobos exclaimed.

"Forgive me, Princess Elyon," Caleb said.

"You're officially pardoned." Elyon untied his hands. Caleb stood up, but he swayed on the spot. She offered him her arm for support.

"We'll see to your injuries as soon as we've called off the fighting, okay?"

Caleb nodded and smiled as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. As she guided him out to the courtyard, she heard Cedric note, "She's become quite the diplomat."

"Indeed…" Phobos hummed. "She's extremely persuasive."