I am going to die.

That was the first thought that poured into my senses. The only thought. My lungs were too busy being filled with a blackened smog that was flooding the halls.

I hadn't a clue where I was running, the fear of twisting an ankle not even a feather as my heels clattered onto the marble. I didn't have time to falter, not while it was following me. Its steps were not even audible, drown in the screams that filled the castle. The monster's breath though, each pant felt just inches from my throat. The image of its carnivorous fangs scraping against my skin pushed me farther than I thought I had the strength for.

My eyes ravaged the world around me, each new image like lightning to my heart. My father's portrait slipping from a broken frame, what looks to be a blade had cut through the painting's face as it curled into itself. A maid who hadn't made it to a safe room in time was motionlessly curled around herself, an eerie red liquid seeping from her. Our golden threaded banners fueled the raging flames, the heat climbing to turn the castle into ash.

If I wanted to live, I would have to keep running. I hadn't a clue where, I just turned every corner I could, no longer caring to where I went. Just as long as I could get away.

Everything though crumbled away in a single snap. A break that shattered my world as I flew forward. The marble shot into my shoulder, my dress clotting as I slid against the surprisingly icy marble. I dared to look back, taking in the heel of my shoe hanging by just a thin bit of glue and my foot wretched too awkwardly.

Of course, by sending a stare behind, I would see the monster. The creature's emerald eyes that hunted me for years pierced through the swells of smoke. Claws tore against the floors like bells as the hunter broke through everything with a lunge.

I let loose a scream as if it could change anything as I began to scramble across the stone. I felt as the monster grasped a hold of my dress skirt, fabric ripping as I still fought. Voices I had never heard began to bounce down the damaged halls,

"There was a scream!"

"Liepard must have caught up with her!"

"We have the princess now!"

Tears began to blind me as I was still pulled away, rising up just to feel a burning rip across my back. Once more, I shrieked out, falling again to the ground. What felt like hot water slowly bubbled up, burning between my shoulders and sticking to my fabric.

I was well aware that it was not water.

My throat began to swell up, the pain starting to take over as I still reached out an arm to pull myself away. Boots slammed against the earth, shaking my world. Still, inch by inch, I dragged myself with terror being my only motivation, I don't want to die.

A snarl yanked me away from escape. The monster was far from finished as it sunk its mouth into my shoulder, spinning me to look up at it.

It wanted to see the fear in my eyes. It relished in the dread that consumed me. It had to from the way the feline puffed its cream chest. The amber fire shimmering against its spotted shadow pelt. Pink feathered plates graced around its vicious eyes, jewels that reflected a hatred I could not understand.

This beast, this aggressor, my hunter. I knew it as it knew me. For years it's been a game of Meowth and Rattata. Every raid, every nightmare, it was this beast that stalked the halls for me, and only me. And now, it has finally caught its prey.

Some people are able to be brave in the face of their adversaries spit, hold a stone expression of defiance.

I simply cried.

Snot running from my nose in disgusting globs while tears flooded my flushing face. I hiccuped between each strangled sob while I curled my fingers into the marble, my manicured, clean fingernails splitting at how strongly I curled into the stone.

"Hyper Voice!"

My vision fluctuated with a captivating darkness, ears ringing, before the flames re-emerged. When I regained my world, I was no longer pinned to the floor. My legs were already standing as I looked to see my hunter thrown into a wall. Coming from the side, I saw a Minccino gulping in as much air as it could muster. Behind the furball was a older maid, her greying blonde strands tied up in a bun as she trembled.

"Sirrah Bel," I had stumbled out with thorns in my throat. Why had Bianca's mother been there? When did she appear.

She threw her head around, "Go, your Highness, now!"

If I wasn't so afraid, I might have yelled at her for ordering me about. No, instead the fear snapped its hands across my bare feet, not letting me flee. I hadn't known when I had thrown my heels across the room.

In a flash, I felt something latch around my arm. I began to flounder, slap around and scream at the touch before I recognized my family crest burned into their silvery armor. A guard. Still, I screamed, "Sirrah Bel!"

For a moment, I shut my eyes, a blink, and I was not the only one being dragged. Those voices who howled for my detainment had emerged, lunging and pulling at the maid. Fire danced between us, the castle guard dragging me further down the hall as I watched the woman cry. Minccino being kicked away is it tried to save its master.

It felt as if she never tried to save me in that moment, as if I stumbled a corner to come upon this scene. One of the invader's knees slammed against Bel's stomach, a familiar liquid dazzling in the destruction spitting out from her mouth.

"We must go, Your Highness," the guard ushered in a monotone, suddenly changing the side of which he held me.

I tried to shake him, but the grip only tightening. I took everything in, everything about the invaders. Adorn in white tunics, grey hoods that matched their boots and gloves, black clothes that stuck to their arms and legs. A crest I had seen too many times but never understood was imprinted into their chests, thus imprinted into my memory.

"Run, Your Highnesss," and it began. A dark aura swallowed up where Bianca's mother stood as she fruitless struggled, "Your life is far more important than mine!"

My expression fell, "You're lying..." I hushed as I became barely able to stand. The guard was able to finally drag me away. In a blur of images I focused on the knight pulling me along.

I couldn't see his face, only dark eyes flashing my way, a dark steam enveloping him that was not from the castle fires. "She will be just fine, Your Highness," he forsworn.

"No, she won't."

Again, he lied in an unintentional mimic of Bel, "Your life is much more important right now."

Before I knew it, I was curled in a corner of the Castle Safe room, voices muttering about. A few attempted to comfort me, but none were truthful. No smoke from the fire slipped in, but all I could see was the darkness that each person bore. My injuries were gone, as if they never happened.

"Just a few more minutes."

"The bad people are all gone now!"

"No one wants to hurt you."

"No, Your Highness, I haven't a clue who those invaders are."

"Everyone is all right, no casualties, don't be so worried."

"Sirrah Bel is alive, worry not!"

"My daughter, I love you, so glad to see you unharmed."

"I am so glad you live, Your Highness."

I was alone. Swallowed in an inky black. Each breath I struggled to take just filled with a malice cotton that stung at lungs. The tears had finally stopped. Everything was silent as I had one final thought that hurt worse that breathing.

Did anyone even care if I lived or died?

The dream fractured as my eyes lifted open, all fire being blown out as the winter stuck to my bones. I stared with a fixation at the sky above, stars clustering like snowflakes to and fro from one another in a competition. A small watery trail nipped at my cheek and I easily found myself brushing it away.

More nightmares. Each part feeling so authentic, yet surreal. I questioned what part truly happened and which was a concoction of my mind. Many times, they were all real, memories over the past decade that my brain had patched together to flow as one. Did Bel and Minccino ever truly save me, though? Was it that I stumbled down the wrong hall to find Bianca's mother being brutally beaten? Did I just want her to save me? I'm not sure Liepard had ever truly caught me, but those eyes. They were there, stalking me, every single night. Every time I dreamt, I was the princess once more, I was a child again. Living those raids. I was unable to tell dreams from reality.

I didn't want to remember what actually happened. It was easier to keep in in a bottle, a blur of fear. It was easier that way.

But that night. Four years ago when Bianca's mother was found after the raid, covered in bruises and welts with so many broken bones that she was nearly unrecognizable. Her throat slashed. That I will always remember clearly. I hadn't always held utter contempt for the capital, there was a time when I still believed in people.

It was that night I truly gave up.

How could people lie about the value of life? How could they deceive whether someone lived or died? That was not in their power.

I still remember that Bianca cried for weeks after. Was silent for much longer. And she lied to me, saying she was all right. I... would have done something to help her if she had just said she wasn't. Even though I knew she was not okay, I did nothing.

But I was too tired. I just wanted her to tell the truth.

Wearily, I sat up from the bunch of leaves I had made as my bed. It was far from comfortable, but it apparently saved me from losing substantial amounts of body heat as I slept. I was still awfully cold. Minccino shifted from my arms, scuffling as her gingery orbs blinked open towards me. With a slight disinterest, I brushed her head in a ruffle as I looked down at the two capes that blanketed me. One, an autumn red cloak I had acquired at the beginning of my journey. The other, a dusted beige that I had just noticed, not being there when I had first went to sleep. Hesitantly, I picked at the fabric before shooting a small glance towards a dwindling campfire.

I had nearly forgotten about my new traveling companion, a man only two years older whose back was shown towards me. The dying glow of our fire silhouetting him as he shifted around to poke at it. He had been the one to tell me about a leaf bed, and built our campfire. One should probably be grateful to have a companion with such survival skills.

I am not saying I wasn't, but, still I crawled from where I was resting with his cape in hand. N heard my movement and looked back with a smile, "It looks like someone is awake, now. Are you all right? Are you warm enough?"

With no response to his question, I stood beside him and let his cape fall to his head, "Do not so easily give your cloak when it is winter."

He laughed when I plopped beside him, pressing my hands close to the few left flames, "But you had looked cold. I am used to the weather, but you spent most of your life in the castle, correct? I heard even the maid's quarters have fireplaces so I assumed you are not yet acclimatized to true Unova winters."

That was eerily spot on, other than the fact I was not a castle maid. But I made no effort to correct him.

N seemed to know quite a lot, it occurred to me, perhaps he knew what that symbol truly was. Carefully, I had to approach it, "Sirrah N," I addressed, immediately gaining his silvery gaze. "Please do not laugh at me, but there is this symbol that I have seen but I do not understand what it represents."

He gave a soft expression, gently directing me in silence. Taking it as an okay, I delicately picked up a stray twig and dragged it against a softened piece of frozen dirt. My stick barely left any mark at all before snapping, causing me to grunt. Deciding a rock wouldn't break, I selected a small stone that I dug into the earth. My crusted and chipped nails just gathering more grime underneath. The memory flickered back and I tried not to tremble, passing it off as a shiver from the icy night. I first drew a shield-like shape, dragging a Z through the horizontal center before dropping a 'P' down vertically. All I did to finish it was carefully hollow out the right side, to represent a black in the insignia.

After setting the rock down, I looked to N whose expression and fallen. Unreadable, "well?" I tread in a low mutter, "What is it?"

"Who are they."

"What?"

N carefully traced his hand through his hair, "You mean, who are they, am I wrong?"

I curled my fingers into my skirt, "No, you are not. Who are they?" I had to keep my stare on him, for any hint of truth or lies. I could not stand any more falsity about this subject.

The man let out a heavy chuckle, but it was not at me, that much I knew. "That is the symbol for the rebel organization, Plasma." His silver eyes looked into the snow-bound woods distantly, not finished in the least, "The rebel symbol. They stand to liberate all of Unova from the ruling monarch family, the monarchy itself. You of all people know how horrible it is within the castle, but I know what it is like on the outside. You have just seen the beginning of it, Lady White. The royal family and other nobles sit on their rumps, eating their fill of exotic meats and fruits while their own people and pokemon barely have enough bread to feed themselves a day. Homes destroyed from natural disaster, yet they do nothing but debate whose is the finest in the land. They have failed as a government, putting us in silent classes, all turning their nose up at those below them. At those who are dying, stricken with deadly illness that the nobles have the money to afford, but no generosity to share. The King after centuries of making peace and promise for a better Unova with his brother, had failed. His sons have fallen back on his word."

I scrunched my face at his words, it ate at me that my home might truly be as bad as he said. Worse than I've seen. It could be worse? "The king though can change that, he can fix Unova. I- I could change it."

N this time did laugh at me, "A former serving girl in the castle? I admire your courage to seek to save it." Minccino crawled onto my lap, her ears perked as she listened with a shared uncertainty in her muscles. "No, it is too late to save this. What we need is change, and no hated king will be able to do that. Plasma seeks to create an equal Unova. They have worked in towns where it is the worst, giving out food and blaket to those who need it. Their leader has led them since he was just ten, determined after seeing the blight across his home."

"What about the raids against the castle?" I quietly questioned, a blade in my voice, "I have been there during Plasma raids, they kill people, servants, guards, no mercy at all." Liepard's vicious gleam stinging behind my eyes as I continued to speak. "Pokemon too. Why would they do that? Why hurt the people and pokemon they are trying to protect?"

This time, I watched his face contort, eyes crinkling in in puzzlement, "They shouldn't. Not from what I know, not the ordinary people anyways. Nobles and monarchs, those if they are so much of an obstacle. Their main point of raids were to gather food and blanket for the people out here, and outside of that they help smuggle out servants such as yourself. Which is why I was frankly a bit shocked you had never heard of Plasma properly."

"I- had quite the sheltered life in the area I worked," I began to mumble quietly. The air filled with a thickness I couldn't shake.

Sighing softly, N rose, "enough talk of rebel organizations tonight, if anyone were to hear, we would be hung for treason." He made a pace to his own leaf bed, lying to rest for whatever hours were left to. I followed suit to my pile with Minccino in tow, "Good night, Lady White."

"Good night, Sirrah N."

In the passing minutes, he was asleep. I though did not dare slumber as Plasma began to bound through my head. I had heard "Plasma" before, a few villages ago in the first Centre. Passing talk about it, and the raids. A coming war. A bloodshed. My mind toiled with everything I had seen, everything I heard.

They hadn't been lying.

There had to be something more.

I watched as N's side rose and fell from across the fire. I knew one thing. He was not lying, either. He answered me in the highest truth. For the hundredth time I had asked, it was the first time I was not lied to.

But there was something amiss. That he did not know. How little he truthfully knew. That I was just piecing together. Those raids weren't to gather supplies, they were a statement.

A message to those still left loyal in the castle, that they were all damned.