-America-

Our camp was small, after the raid we had split up our massive force in order to avoid detection, but it still housed over a hundred fifty people in its makeshift tents. There were small fires throughout the vicinity, some used or cooking while others, like the one crackling warmly in front of me, served as centers of entertainment.

A small chicken was roasting on a spit above the hungry flames. My friend, Kel turned it slowly, wanting to "roast it to perfection." When it was done, much to Kel's dismay, we tore into it like rabid animals.

"Why do you even chew, just inhale it'll go faster." She muttered tossing several blond strands over her shoulder.

"Oh, come on, you know we just can't resist your cooking," Aspen said a wicked half grin on his face.

She scowled deeply, an expression that didn't fit in well with her delicate features. "Animals," she grumbled almost unintelligibly.

"Here, Kel," I said handing her a chicken leg I had managed to snag before the frenzy had set in.

"Thanks, Mer," she said taking it gingerly between her thumb and fore finger.

After we all had finished eating, we started telling tales of what we'd seen in the palace. It worked as a sort of mental detox, allowing us to release all the terrible things we had seen and done. But with the blatant exaggeration in the stories, one couldn't help but to laugh.

I honestly didn't know what I was going to say. I couldn't admit that I'd met the prince, and let him live. The price for disloyalty was too high.

We went around slowly, our group wasn't very big, but it takes time to tell a story. It was Aspen's turn before it was mine.

He beguiled us with an incredibly tall tale about how he'd fought off hundreds of guards and found and raided the wine cellar. I was so absorbed into it, into him. Everything around me felt synthetic, and wrong. It all sounded so beautiful the way he wove the story; it almost felt true.

Almost.

"Hey, Aspen, did you slay a dragon while you were down there?" a voice called out from somewhere to my left, snapping me back into reality.

A chorus of laughter erupted.

"Why would I want to slay your girlfriend?" Aspen shot back.

A short boy with spiky brown hair and a hooknose answered "That was one time!"

Aspen smiled impishly, "Oh, and, Callen, in case you haven't noticed your hand's starting to get jealous."

Another bout of laughter started, and this time I was a part of it. Sounds of merriment swirled around me. The euphoria rose over us like a wave, and I was swept up in its power.

When the laughter died down, the space was uncomfortably quiet. I felt a shiver rack my body, in spite of that fact that it wasn't even very cold out here.

"What about you, Mer?" Aspen asked, apparently deciding that the quiet was too much. "What did you do in the palace?"

"I…" I paused, the words catching in my throat. What could I say that would sate them? They wanted something funny and interesting. I wasn't even sure I could give.

"Well, I…I got to the roof and believe it or not, but–,"

"Hey! You might want to hear this!"

Thankfully, I'd been interrupted. Everyone's attention was now diverted to the man who had called out to us. He was one of the men who constantly monitored the radio stations to listen for any news we could get that might help us. I could never remember his name, Sam, Sal, something along those lines.

The man had turned the radio up so we could hear it. From the sound it, there was an Emergency Report, which in turn meant a special announcement.

How nice. Maybe the royals had gotten tired of us attacking them and were finally willing to give up power. I fought back a grin; that would never happen.

Gavril Fadaye introduced the non-prince, as I now liked to call him, in his usual manner. But once he finished last syllable, the entire mood of the Report changed. The next voice that came on was more familiar.

"Citizens of Illea, I apologize for my so sudden intrusion onto your evenings, but I as well as my mother and father find it necessary to address our country's the worsening issue."

The caste system?

"The Rebels that so belligerently seek to destroy our great nation grow stronger with each day."

Oh.

"They call the government unjust, but what do they know of injustice? They plunder private property, deface and outright destroy government buildings, and murder innocent people. These insurrectionists feel that have the right to call us unjust, but on what grounds?"

He was good.

"I feel that I speak for all citizens of Illea when I say that I have grown tired of these rebels, and tired of their machinations. Therefore, it is in the best interest of our country that I announce, and ratify the Fugitive Rebel Act."

My eyes widened; this didn't sound good at all.

"From this day on, anyone found to be affiliated with any organization that is working against the country of Illea will be sentenced to death, and will legally, hereby be referred to as a Rebel. Any person harboring a Rebel, or who knows the whereabouts of a Rebel, and does not report said Rebel with the space of 36 hours, will be sentenced to death, and will legally, hereby be referred to as a Sympathizer. Anyone found having dealings with a known Rebel, or Sympathizer, will be sentenced to death, unless said person reports said Rebel or sympathizer within the space of 12 hours."

We all looked around at each other. Could this possibly be true? The man at the radio opened his mouth to speak, but was drowned out when the prince continued his monologue.

"All Rebels and Sympathizers starting from the time they commit their crimes are eights, which in the case of sympathizers can be reversed once they have reported to civil authorities the accounts of their crimes. Rebels, starting from the time they begin their affiliation with said organizations, are no longer Illean Citizens, and therefore are not allowed to: own property, work, or marry."

What?

"I would like to thank you all for you cooperation this evening, and wish you a good night."

I stared at the radio for a few moments afterwards. Fadaye said something after that, but it was muddled, then the station went to static.

This wasn't real, it couldn't be real. It was probably some big royal joke that they were all laughing at over their champagne.

"Well, that has to be the dumbest thing ever," Aspen said a bored look on his face.

But, then came the screaming, and then the gunfire.

And when we jumped up from our seats, the soldiers were upon us.