-America-
The call for the second wave passed swiftly through our ranks, and in seconds I was running towards the palace. Clutching the bundle I carried closer to my chest, I poured on the speed.
In these few, short moments with the wind racing through my hair, I felt invincible.
It wasn't long before the palace rose up on the horizon. We had taken to calling it the Mountain. The first time I'd seen its hulking shape, it had been quite easy to believe that it was a Mountain. One of magic, Ball gowns, Marble, and wonder.
And treachery, so much treachery.
The city streets were a blur; I was a mere three blocks from the still vulnerable Palace entrance when I heard a voice. "America!" It hissed from the shadow of an alleyway.
"Aspen?" I responded, my voice tipped with uncertainty. I stopped not too far from the alley's entrance.
"No, don't stop! Your father told me to tell you that the stairwell is on the third floor," He was breathing heavily, and speaking so quickly that his words blended together. "Do you have the Pennant?"
"Yes," I said gesturing to the bundle in my arms, and preparing to run again. The sounds of fighting flowed back to us. Hearing the cries of anguish, I cringed. "Aspen, be careful," I whispered, and then I was running again. He called something after me, but I couldn't quite hear it over the combat's dull roar.
Getting through the seemingly endless maze of battling bodies was nearly impossible. Several times I saw people being shot and killed right in front of me, but I pressed on, until I reached what had to be the servant's stairs.
Jumping over debris and fallen bodies, I sprinted up the steps my legs pumping and my lungs working overtime. When I finally reached the third floor, my muscles were screaming for relief.
The third floor was much more sumptuous than the other two. Even in chaos the space's extravagance showed through the wreckage. I paused for a moment to ogle at the beauty of the marble floors and frescoed ceilings, and ducked as a bullet lodged in the wall, just inches from where my head had been.
Keeping my head down, I ducked through hallways searching for the stairwell. It proved to be rather difficult to find. When I finally reached it, the pennant and I were soaked with sweat.
I slipped into the small room that housed the stairs just as a stray bullet was whizzing through the doorway.
Just looking at the stairs made me what to throw up. I was sweaty, tired, and disheartened; I knew my mission was not one of importance, not like Kota's was.
My father had sent me to replace the Illéan flag that flew from the roof of the palace with the pennant he'd given me. He had tried to convince me that it was important and symbolic, but I knew it was a load of crap and that he had doled out this inoperable assignment to keep me from getting hurt. Though, considering how much gunfire there had been outside, his plan had quite a few holes in it.
Unlike me, my older brother, Kota, was given a mission so important that it had to be kept secret, and the arrogant jerk wouldn't let anyone forget. Apparently, he was somewhere skulking in the bowels of the palace, looking for something.
some small part of me wished I was with him.
I told myself I didn't care, I told myself that I was better than petty jealousy, even as I ascended the stairs to complete my menial task.
The roof was expansive and cold. It was a spiraling mess of sloping surfaces and shingles.
After locating the flag pole near the front of the palace, I carefully made my way towards it, having to stop many times to make sure I didn't tumble down to my death. When I finally got to it, I set the pennant aside and began to lower the flag. It snapped in the wind making job all the more difficult.
When I'd finally freed the flag from its pole, I noticed a shadow darting out of my peripheral vision.
I wasn't alone.
Leaning down like I was about to unfold the pennant, I wrapped my fingers around the knife I kept in my boot. The handle was rough and wooden; it cut into the skin of my hand. No doubt I'd have splinters after this
The shadow was back again and it was edging closer. All of my muscles tensed, and I began to count down in my head
3…If I didn't kill them, they'd kill me.
2…Whoever it is likely deserves it.
1…I refuse to die.
I quickly and fluidly spun around and pulled out my knife. Brandishing it in a defensive position.
In front of me stood a man – a boy really – he couldn't have been much older than me. He was blonde with deep blue eyes, a look of morbid fear ruining his otherwise handsome features. The boy wore dark suit pants, loafers, a tie in pastel colors, and a white button down shirt.
"Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on people?" I said turning my knife so the moonlight reflected off of the cool metal.
The boy scoffed at me, though the fear was still in his eyes. He snarled up his lip declaring, "You all are barely human."
"Then I guess it won't really matter if I kill you."
His breath hitched in his throat. "W – what?"
"You heard me."
"N – no, I–"
"Then put up this flag," I said tossing him the pennant. When he made no move to catch it, I took a few steps forward pointing the tip of the blade at his heart.
"Okay, Okay! I'm doing it," he grumbled as he picked up the fallen bundle.
While the boy worked to put the flag up I observed him. His clothes weren't right for him to be a soldier, but he was too nicely dressed to be a member of staff.
I couldn't escape the feeling that he was familiar.
Half way through his attempts at pulling the flag up the pole my attention drifted. I found myself watching the Angeles skyline, and nearly gasped at what I found.
It was like a million diamonds were lying on a strip of black velvet. I had never seen so many lights in my life. Colossal buildings that were taller than anything I had ever seen rose up to kiss the nighttime sky. Smaller, much shorter buildings glittered at their bases in mock envy of their taller counterparts.
The light almost burned my eyes, yet I couldn't help but whisper, "Beautiful."
"You're observant," he muttered under his breath, as he finally completed his work.
"Who are you anyway?" I asked, my eyes narrowing.
The boy looked away, and crossed his arms. "Are we done here?"
I raised my eyebrows. Why was he so reluctant to tell me who he was?
"Not exactly," I said, pointing at the discarded flag that now lay on the ground. "Get rid of that."
He picked up the flag in one bundle and carried it over to the edge of the roof where he dropped it.
"Well," I started, backing away from him slowly. "This has been nice; maybe we could do it again sometime."
"Not on your life," he spat, anger now contorting his face into something monstrous.
I was a few feet away from the door to the stairs when I everything began to click.
The boy's eyes never left me, and even as I tucked the knife back into my boot he stayed in the same spot.
Throwing open the door, I gave him a grim smile. "Don't think I don't know who you are, Schreave!" I called, before pounding down the stairs with no idea how I'd get out of this palace.
Thanks so much you guys!, I'm still really unsure as to how this will play out, but I plan on updating every day, if not every other day. So please review!