A/N: Chapter 4 finally came into being! Hopefully chapter 5 won't take nearly as long.
Lunar
The air is full of Patti's voice as she sings, kicking her legs back and forth on the old oak tree she and her sister rest on. Seated on a large hill above the north's only road, it's the perfect place to watch for unsuspecting traders.
Liz leans against the trunk, watching the horizon carefully. Her more southern messengers had reported a large train of wagons entering their borders a day ago. Liz isn't particularly sure of what business a wagon train like that had doing in the north. It certainly couldn't be relief from the king. She had long stopped expecting help from anyone.
But the fact remains that her people are sorely in need of supplies and whoever was running those wagons was going to be relieved of their cargo one way or the other.
"You're making the tree angry," Patti pipes up from beside her.
"Huh?" Liz looks down and sees that, where her hands rest, the bark has withered and turned black. She relaxes her hands from the involuntary fists she's made and the tree relaxes as well, healthy brown replacing the deadened black.
She turns her gaze back to the road. "Sorry."
"Oaky forgives you," Patti replies cheerfully. She goes back to singing, awakening the flowers that rest around the base of the tree from their slumber.
Liz whoops suddenly when she spies mushrooms of dust on the horizon. "Patti, round up the gang. We've got ourselves a sitting duck."
"Ducks also waddle," Patti informs her sister as she balances on one foot on a branch of the oak tree. She blows the tree a kiss, orange sparks flowing from her hands. "Good-bye, Oaky! Feel better soon."
The tree, crippled by age and root rot, straightened ever so slightly, shining with a luster it lacked before Patti spoke.
Liz pushes herself off the branch and approaches the edge of the hill, squinting at the dust clouds. Her messengers hadn't been lying about the size of the train. It had to be at least fifty wagons long, which was a lot even for the richest trader.
She frowns. There was just something that didn't seem quite right. Doubt whispers things in her ear, unease twisting its way into her gut.
Liz catches herself playing with her sleeves. It was a habit her mother tried to thoroughly stamp out of her.
Her hands clap to her sides. If she let herself waver even once, then it wouldn't be just her that suffered the consequences.
With one last look at the growing dust clouds, she turns from the hill and goes to find Patti and the rest.
The horses Liz and her gang rides travel much more swiftly than the horses her father used to breed for their army.
The only good thing to come out of the war, she thinks, considering how large her fath-their territory is. Then, she shakes her head once and hard. To think that anything good came out of that war hovers on the boundary of madness.
An impatient sigh interrupts her spiral into unpleasant memories.
She glances to her left at the pink-haired girl scowling at her.
"Well?" Kim asks. "Are you going to give the orders or are we going to ride past them?"
A long-brown haired girl that rides on Kim's other side speaks up. "Kim! Don't speak to Lady like that!"
Liz smiles over at Jackie as ice clamps around her heart. "My mother was Lady, Jackie. I am Liz." She tightens her grip on her reins. "Besides, the north is nothing to Vita anyways. Go, you two."
Kim separates from the group without another word, readying the bow she never went anywhere without. Jackie follows her, pulling her lantern from her saddle bag.
Liz raises her hands and the rest of her group halts. Through the thin stand of trees, she and the others watch as Kim and Jackie make their way to the road. She grows apprehensive when they round a turn and ride out of sight but it's the only way to catch the train by surprise.
The minutes stretch out and Liz is on the verge of calling up her magic to see exactly what's going on when the fire from Jackie's lantern paints the sky red.
"Move!" Liz calls, relieved. She spurs her horse into a gallop. Calling the magic that connects her soul with the earth, she senses the scene ahead, gauging for the level of resistance she will find.
To say that she is surprised when she finds no sign of fighting at all is an understatement. The unease from before wells in her chest as they round the bend.
The scene that greets her is exactly as she felt. Although Kim points her bow at the head driver of the wagons, the driver doesn't look alarmed in the slightest. In fact, he perks up when he spots Liz and Patti.
"Ladies of the north!" he calls delightedly.
"Liz," she corrects, reining in her horse and dismounting in one fluid motion.
"And Patti!" her sister declares, mimicking Liz and dismounting as well.
"Yet you knew who I meant," he replies, adjusting his antique top hat.
"What is your business?" Liz asks flatly.
"That is a question better suited for myself," a calm voice announces from the now open door of the lead wagon.
A kid, no more than ten at best, steps from the cart. His richly embroidered black tunic matches his hair, save for three white lines that cover one half of his hair. His eyes are a strange golden color.
Liz wouldn't have paid attention to him at all, if it wasn't for the rather ugly skull that was pinned to the middle of his collar.
It was the king's insignia.
She tenses, orange sparks flying from her hands. Immediately, Kirikou and Ox come up from behind her with their weapons at the ready.
Liz stalks forward, weeds rising from where she walks. "What is the king's messenger doing in the north?" she hisses, stopping just before the kid.
At this, the boy looks a little affronted. "I am his son."
Years of developing the perfect mask causes Liz to smile where the others gasp. She looks at him more closely now, recognizing the white lines for what they were. "You're the son they said was marked by death at birth, aren't you?" She smirked. "Death the Kid?"
His expression doesn't change but she senses the chagrin in his voice. "That is correct. Though I am called Kid."
Liz shrugs. "So long as your father knows what I mean when I send your ransom note."
He blinks mildly. "Now, the guards wouldn't like to hear that, would they?"
Liz's eyes flick to the carts, her heart dropping into her stomach. She clenches her hands, refusing to give the power to this runt of a boy. "Are you threatening me?"
Kid shakes his head. "Not at all. I just want to talk is all." He snaps his fingers once and guards emerge from the wagons. "In the meantime, my guards will follow your lovely sister and company back to your camp and unpack the supply carts."
"Supplies?" the word tumbles from Liz's mouth without her permission. She instantly curses herself for showing weakness.
She thinks she sees a triumphant gleam in Kid's eyes but it's gone as soon as she sees it.
He nods. "Enough to solve your problems and more."
Inwardly, Liz scowls because she knows she has no choice. Yet she purses her lips, as if in deep thought, and clasps her hands behind her back like her father would.
After a minute of feigning consideration, she nods. "Very well." She turns to Patti. "You're in charge, Patti."
"Yay," Patti trills, a wide smile on her face. Between the bond that links them as nature mages, however, Liz senses Patti's wariness.
Liz sends a wordless message of comfort and then turns back to the prince. "After you."
He leads her into the trees, into a small clearing. Liz relaxes somewhat because here she is in her element. With her magic on her side, no one can hurt her.
A silver and scarlet memory promptly flashes in her mind, contradicting her. The ice-cold fury that had been brewing since Jackie called her Lady boils over.
"Why are you here?" she growls more than asking.
"My father the king is looking to bring order back to the north," Kid explains evenly. "Especially since you are the border that connects with Mortaranae-"
Liz interrupts him with a cold laugh. "You don't think I'd know that?" She narrows her eyes, sparks flying from her fists. "My sister and I was the one who had to deal with those invaders. We were the ones that had to lead the battles, command everyone's respect. We had to rebuild our territory from ruin and now a kid like you is sent to make amends, like this is a game?"
"I don't think of it as a game," he replies quietly. "And you're a kid too."
"Not anymore," Liz replies viciously. "The north was abandoned and we had to be the grown ups." She breathes deeply as fury and grief fight to take control of her.
"It was chaos when the war started," Kid says simply. "All my father knew was that the north was the place of the betrayal. And every piece of evidence pointed to your father as the source."
Liz loses control of her magic for the first time since she was a young child. The trees around Kid envelope him, branches locking him in place. An especially sharp-ended branch creeps towards his neck.
"And what about after the war?" she seethes. "When the dust settled and you saw who really was to blame? Where was your precious father then?"
"You really are as talented as your mother," Kid observes, unalarmed at the change in events.
"Don't speak of that traitor to me," Liz says, biting off the words as if they were glass. "She came from your father's court. She had the inside information. She was the one who should have been suspected from the start."
"And that is the mistake we are trying to make up for with this peace offering," Kid answers. "That and with the offer I have for you and your sister."
"What do you have to offer?" The branch edges closer to the base of his throat as Liz speaks.
"Official status as nobility and unlimited riches. You'd be free to run the north as you'd like so long as your loyalty lies to the king."
"Status means squat to me." Liz grins, all teeth. "And I could just cut your throat right now and take your riches, guards or not."
Kid remains unperturbed, however, the assurance in his eyes unwavering. "I also promise not abandon you like my father did."
Liz blinks and then throws back her head, laughing derisively. "That almost sounds like disloyalty." She raises her eyebrow, ready to be done with the conversation. "Is that all?"
"How about revenge?"
The tree branch recedes a little. Liz frowns ever so slightly. "That doesn't sound like you."
He shrugs. "I think of it as balance. Righting the wrongs, so to speak. But you'd call it revenge." The branch pulls back entirely and he lands lightly on the ground, like a cat.
Liz crosses her arms. "Explain."
He brushes off the invisible dust from his tunic but his golden eyes never leave hers. "I'm talking of revenge on your mother."
The angry and bitter mask drops just a bit from her eyes, the aching sadness that simmers deep beneath her skin rising like the phoenixes she and her father used to spy from their castle's balconies.
Her father now lies dead in their now-ruined castle with a knife in his heart, courtesy from their mother.
She tilts her head to one side, examining Kid who really isn't a kid at all.
"I'm listening."