Chapter Text
"Wh… What?" Elas whispered, his voice barely audible. "My… father? What do you mean? There's no way that he…"
"He wishes to see you immediately, Your Highness," the guard repeated.
"He's really back? And he's thrown your mum off the throne?" Morrigan exclaimed. "Is that even allowed?"
"You should go," Elas stammered, backing away from the castle. "Go back to school-"
The guards came forward and grabbed him, restraining his arms. "Forgive us, Your Highness. His Majesty gave us permission to use force if you resisted."
Elas grunted as he struggled against their grip. He strained his arm towards his sword Laevatein, but one of the guards was holding his wrist and angling it away from the blade. Morrigan's axe slammed into the soldier and he fell away, removing his grip on Elas. "Leave him alone!" She yelled.
Silla swept her arm wide. A gust of wind ploughed into the second guard, sending them sprawling through the air. They collapsed at the base of the castle wall. Elas smiled at the girls. "Thank you."
"What should we do?" Morrigan asked. "The king can't really be back, right?"
"There's no use in denying it any longer," said Damian. "Which begs the question - what's happened to Queen Miele?"
"I have to find her," Elas announced. "I shouldn’t involve the four of you in this. You should go back to Cricland."
"Um, hello? We're your friends, and so is Miele - we're not just going to ditch you!" Morrigan objected. "Come on, let's go!"
Morrigan charged ahead, pushing open the giant front doors to the castle's interior. Bricks and glass lay scattered around the foyer. The banners that hung from the ceiling had been torn, their pieces abandoned on the floor and the banisters. Several soldiers stood around, sweeping fragments of the chaos into dustpans. They looked up as the group entered the hall. "The prince is here! Alert His Majesty!" One of them yelled.
One soldier near the stairs dropped his broom and bolted up the stairs. Damian kicked off the ground and flew through the air, sticking out a leg to kick the soldier in the temple. The soldier crumpled to the floor. Another soldier brandished a lance as they charged. Damian directed two swords in his direction and they darted through the air towards him. The soldier swiped at them, and Damian shot an energy beam at the soldier's exposed abdomen.
Elas swung his blade deftly through the air to deflect the guards' attacks. At the last second, he saw a soldier charge at him out of the corner of his eye, but Klimt’s sword gleamed through the air as it struck the guard across the chest. Elas nodded his thanks.
"What, oh, what is going on here?"
All movement stopped at the sound of the airy voice. On the balcony overseeing the foyer, a brown-haired man stood. He appeared young, in his early twenties. He regarded the scene before him with a raised brow and a grin. "Ah, Your Highness! You've finally arrived! His Majesty has been just dying to see you again."
"Where's my mother?" Elas demanded. "And our staff? If you've laid a finger on them-"
"Oh, they're all just fine," the man responded with a wave of his hand. "Now, come along quietly, will you? This place is enough of a wreck as it is. Not to mention the king is getting a little tetchy…"
"I can't do that. He reserves no right to demand such an audience."
Silla glanced at Damian, whose gaze was fixed on the newcomer. His expression - a mix of surprise and horror - was something she had never seen before. "Damian? What's wrong?" She asked.
"That's… Anatoly Nazarov," he muttered. "But… What is he doing here? How is he here?"
"Ana-who?" Morrigan said.
"That name does sound kind of familiar…" Klimt admitted.
Anatoly sighed. "Well, the boss did say we could rough you up a bit if that's what it took." Smirking, he raised his hands, showing the gauntlets around his wrists. Sharp, metallic claws sprung from the gauntlets and he leapt onto the banister, kicking off into the air as he raised a hand to swipe at Elas. The metal of their weapons clashed together harshly.
Morrigan raised her axe high above her head, but Anatoly snapped towards her with a grin as he scratched across her exposed chest. With a yelp, Morrigan staggered backwards.
Silla raised her staff as a bolt of lightning burst forth from it. Anatoly jumped high into the air and it whizzed past him, scorching the wall behind him. Silla unleashed more bolts, but Anatoly jumped and flipped over each one. The room began to smell of soot.
Silla reached into her bag for a Gravity Gemstone, but the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps yanked her attention away from the bag. Anatoly was charging straight for her, his grin and eyes wide with bloodlust with his claws raised. She raised a hand and the light blue Gemstone in her staff glowed as a wall of ice burst forth from the ground. Unable to lower his hand in time, Anatoly's claws stabbed the ice, chipping some fragments away. He growled as he yanked his claws free from the wall.
Elas swung Laevatein at Anatoly, but the other man simply batted the blade away and kicked Elas' stomach. As Elas doubled over, smaller blades jutted out from underneath Anatoly's claws, and Anatoly stabbed them into Elas' neck. Elas raised a hand to shove Anatoly away, but his arm felt heavy. His eyelids flickered as he fell to his knees. He felt a hand close around the back of his shirt and lift him from the ground.
The doors around them swung open and dozens of guards poured out of them, raising their weapons at the remaining four students. "The little prince is secured," Anatoly called. "You're welcome to try and get him back. I haven't had any good fun in ages."
Morrigan gripped her axe tighter. "It won't be so much fun when we wipe the floor with your face!"
"No," Damian cut in, grabbing her arm. "We can't overpower him. We can't overpower this many soldiers. We have to retreat."
"What?! But he has Elas! We can't just leave Elas in that guy's hands!"
"He's right, Morri." Klimt said. "We're way out of our league here. We have to go."
It took both Klimt and Silla to coax Morrigan towards the door. Anatoly watched as the four children made a hasty retreat, the castle doors slamming shut behind them. He hoisted Elas over his shoulder. "Keep cleaning up," he commanded the gathered soldiers as he turned and left the foyer.
Anatoly carried Elas to the throne room. "Tell His Majesty his heir is secured," he ordered a nearby guard. As the soldier scurried away, Anatoly set Elas on the ground. He stood nearby, in case the prince had any ideas about running.
The doors on either side of the throne opened, and four people entered. The largest was King Orion Axton himself. His long hair flowed behind him as he approached his throne. He gripped a long staff - golden with a statue of a dragon at the top. His red eyes always seemed to be narrowed into a permanent glare. With a swish of his purple cloak, he sat on his throne.
The second to enter behind the king was a man only known to everyone around him as Helios. A white mask covered most of his face. He was otherwise covered head to toe in a black cape. He stood wordlessly next to the throne, to the king's left.
To the king's right stood a young woman, Sienna-Rose Empex. Her long hair was a mixture of greens and blues, as was her clothing. Her expression was blank, her eyes focused on the ground rather than the captive prince.
The final individual, who was leaning against a pillar some feet away from the throne, was Lin Harein. Their skin was the palest Anatoly had ever seen on a living person. Some of their emerald green hair was tied into a bun, while the rest fell down their back. Their gaze was focused entirely on their phone, endlessly scrolling.
"My son," Orion began. "It has been far too long since we last met. Still as rash as ever, I see, fighting my guards the way you did."
Elas raised his head. He planted a hand on the floor beside him to steady himself as he wobbled. He couldn't see his father properly - he was still drained from whatever Anatoly had injected him with. "Where's my mother?" He asked, his voice weak. "Where are you keeping her?"
"She is safe, for now," Orion responded. "She is officially under house arrest. She is not allowed to leave the palace. And neither are you. When outside of your quarters, you will be observed at all times."
"I want to see her."
"I can't allow that - not yet, at least. In time, if both of you have behaved under my roof, I will permit you to see her. For now, there are much more important things to focus on."
"What could be more important…?!" Elas yelled.
"Isn't it obvious, son?" Orion smirked. "Our priority must be spreading the power of the Axton family to all of Tiallarynn."
—
Over the next three days, life at Cricland appeared to progress as usual. The school had received word that Elas would no longer be attending due to his new focus on his preparations to become king in the future. The school atmosphere was somewhat tense as a result of the king's sudden return.
"This is ridiculous," Morrigan fumed. "The king can't just take Elas out of school! He needs to be here! We have to go save him, and Queen Miele. I'll call Papa, I'll call Flint, they can help us-"
"We can't go against the king, Morrigan," Klimt said. "You saw how outnumbered we were last time. And I've heard rumours about the king being really strong. We'd stand no chance, and we can't ask Flint and Papa to endanger their soldiers like that."
"Not to mention such an act would be treason," Silla pointed out. "I doubt the king would grant us any leniency due to our ages. We'd be branded traitors and probably executed if we were caught."
"And he has Anatoly Nazarov with him," Damian said. "You realise who that is, right?"
Morrigan shrugged. "Um, no? Why, should I? Is he famous or something?"
"More like in famous. They call him Unguis - 'claw' or 'fang' in the old language. Others call him The Nephile’s Son. He's a serial killer, Morrigan."
Morrigan's eyes widened. "I remember now," said Klimt. "He's an Ustradian former Hunter. The media dubbed him those things because the police initially thought his murders were the work of Nephiles due to how much damage the victims sustained. He was arrested two years ago after six years at large, and he's been on death row ever since."
"Orion must have broken Anatoly out just before launching his attack on Ardepolis," Damian suggested. "All the more to wrestle control from the queen."
Morrigan wiped her eyes. "I'm just so sick of all of this. First Elvira and Fyren betray us, then Marina gets in trouble for what they did, then the king comes back, and now he's keeping Elas as a hostage! Why has nothing been going right for us at all?!" She sobbed. "I just want them to come home and be okay!"
Silla wrapped an arm around Morrigan's shoulders. "They're going to be fine, I'm sure," she muttered. "I miss them too. We all do. But they're strong - really strong. They'll make it through this and we'll be reunited with them in no time."
Klimt sat on Morrigan's other side, placing a hand on her arm. Damian watched as the tears rolled down Morrigan's cheeks - even if he wasn't as forthcoming with his emotions as she was, he knew he felt the same way. Nothing had been going their way lately.
They had been awfully lucky up until now. Was their luck starting to run out?