Chapter Text
Once upon a time there were two kingdoms, each on the opposite ends of the world from the other. Locked in a bitter conflict, both sides had sworn to see the other’s downfall, yet neither had been able to achieve it, leaving the war to go on for a time indescribable. A time so long that both sides had even forgotten what it was they had been fighting for. This did not halt the fighting though, both sides being unable to rest until one had been declared the winner.
For as long as this battle has gone on its sides have remained remained set: The cunning humans of Illyria against the united force of the Gears. No matter where one traveled too, almost everything was torched by fires of their battles, the only places one could find any sense of safety were within the high walls of Illyria’s capital, its populous protected by the ancient masonry and the millions of acres of farmland and villages that stood between it and the battlefield, or deep within the old oaken forests and groves on the Gear’s side. Humans being unable to break past this barrier allowed for smaller hamlets and even entire villages to remain protected by the unforgiving wilds that surrounded them. And for many years it remained that way - like the constant ebb and flow of the tides the two side of the war found themselves in a dance similar. For every bit of progress humans would make into the ancient woodlands, the Gear would get that much further through the vast rolling plains of Illyria.. Every victory one side would make during a battle meant a loss somewhere else. Every fallen comrade avenged somewhere meant a new vow of vengeance elsewhere. Borders and territories changed - farmland overgrown with trees taller than one could fathom and whole forests reduced to just stumps and ash, entire family lines of Illyrian royalty have past, the major faces of this war ever shifting, And yet despite all that, despite everything that has changed, the very cause of it all hasn’t. The war itself remained constant, seemingly destined to last until the end of time. Not until a figure emerged, a new actor to play his part on this great stage from a place not all too unexpected. It was youngest prince of the Illyrian crown, he emerged onto the battlefield wielding the fabled Thunderseal, gifted to him by his father. The people rallied under his banner as he continuously led his army to victory after victory. He rapidly became a beacon of hope to humanity, accepting all into his fold regardless of their rank or social stature, perceived as a guardian angel who sought not only to win this war but to have all his people survive long enough to celebrate it.
It did not take long for news of the prince’s heroics spread throughout Illyria. For it seemed that all were singing his praises. The people sung of his many accomplishments, and it seemed like every day more and more would join up with the army, their prince giving them the hope to stand on their own. His message soon spread beyond the bounds of humanity itself, far enough that it even reached the ears of the Gear’s queen and general. To put it simply, she found the boy curious. For she had been around since the very beginning of this war, and time and time again has she seen a “Savior” rising amongst humanity’s ranks, and every single time without fail they have always been a disappointment. She had seen what lied at the depths of every human’s heart, and every time she has met these so-called Saviors in battle she has managed to strip away their self-righteous and virtuous façade to reveal the festering rot of greed and selfishness that had lie underneath.
She wondered if this one would be any different.
The humans would destroy the homes of her people, burning the woods that surrounded them to the ground. All for the ease of their own travel and yet would call them the monsters. It sickened her to see how easily her people’s livelihoods could be crumbled to ash. How could they claim virtue despite their actions? she wondered. So she designed a trap-, a test- to reveal to all that could bare witness to what this prince, this ‘Savior’ actually was. She waited until the dead of night to launch the attack, catching them all off guard in between their watch cycles. The prince ran to the front lines, confronting her on his own, as expected, leaving the rest of his people to fend for themselves against the rest of her army. Their battle waged in the cold rain, with a bit of distance from the rest of their forces. One could just barely hear the struggled cries of the humans over the roar of the downpour, they called out to their leader, yet not once did the prince ever cease his onslaught against her, never responded to his colleagues cries, or sought out their aid despite the clear struggle he has having. Don’t want to share the glory do you little prince? Better to return to your king the sole slayer of the Gear’s leader than to have to admit to receiving assistance from a commoner. As their battle continued the cries of the humans had died out, she allowed her gaze to wonders across the battlefield and confirmed for herself the lack of anyone left to help the prince. Seeing this, her victory all but assured, she decided to speak to the boy:
“Why do you continue to fight, little prince? What do you seek in this fruitless battle? Even you must see that this can only end in your defeat.” The boy was talented, she would give him that, however, Thunderseal’s bite was nothing but a minor annoyance and she was able to say her words without even the slightest strain to her voice. The prince remained silent, it was clear that all of his energy going into the battle before him. He still clung to his mask of a selfless ruler, she would shatter it.
“Look around you, prince. Your people have abandoned you, dooming you to fall at my feet. Such is the nature of humanity, always prattling on with talks of ‘comradery’ and ‘brotherhood’ only to abandon the other for the sake of their own petty survival. Lay down your weapon, Prince and I shall allow your death to be a swift one.” Her words echoed across the battlefield, drowning out the rain and even the heavens themselves, and yet the prince didn’t back down. She was starting to despise that look in his eyes.
“Do you really believe that you can smite me down here? Wounded as you are? Even with your little toy, you couldn’t hope to defeat me.”
The prince, clothes dyed crimson from his blood and caked in mud, readjusted the grip on his sword and raised his eyes to meet her own. Finally, he chose to speak:
“I understand that I may die before you today, that this battle may be fruitless, but if it allows for even one of my people to escape, to live and fight another day, then my sacrifice will have not been in vain.”
The human’s words caused the commander to halt, her smile settling to something more neutral, almost unreadable. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was shocked. For the prince’s words had not just reached her, but the look in his eyes as he said them, the conviction they held told her that everything he said was true. She had thought it was her that had trapped the prince, caught him off guard in the dead of night the wind and harsher rains hiding her attack. But as she’d come to realize, it was her who’d been trapped. As she had realized with the boy’s statement he hadn’t been facing her one-on-one with such intensity because he wanted to be the one to claim victory over her as she’d previously thought, To put it simply: he had offered himself as a sacrifice, understanding how his position had made him a bigger target to his enemies. He offered himself, so that more could live.
And with that the Gear Queen realized: this boy had to live, for it was humans like him that should be the ones ruling, not the vain husks she had spent lifetimes observing. However she knew that now was not his time, the world he currently occupied was too violent, too versatile. For as brief as her interaction has been with the prince she knew his type, if she let him leave this battle he would simple throw himself into another one, a cycle of self sacrifice that would only end with his death as he continued to place others above himself. The world the prince lived in right now was a fickle one, one unworthy of the light his rule would cast. The boy would not last in the world as it was now, but she could fix that.
The prince never saw the spell coming, it was an ancient and complicated thing made well before his time. If it had been an attack then he would’ve been guarded enough to anticipate it, but this was perhaps the last thing the boy would’ve expected out of the enemy commander. His body soon slumped as the spell found its target, caught by her hand before he hit the ground. The spell would keep him under a soft slumber, where he would remain unbothered by the world around him, and she would take him far from here, to a tower untouched by the ever shifting tides of this war.
And there he would wait, wait for someone to wake him and guide him into the world he was fit to rule.
The book closed, right on the same spot it always did, as sleepy as she was Dizzy couldn’t help but to frown in disappointment.
“But what happens next mom?” her words are light, almost to quiet to hear, yet the slight smile that graces her mother’s lips informed the girl that she had in fact heard her. Her mother simply shakes her head, furthering the child’s disappointment.
“You always stop there! I want to know what happens to the-” the girl yawns cutting off her sentence, she shakes her head in a attempt to clear her drowsiness, “-happens to the prince!!”
Her mother removes her hand from the spot that had been marking their progress to place it on her daughter’s head, nails just barely scratching her scalp as her mother slowly moves it in a loose pattern across her hair. Dizzy cannot help but to lean into the touch, eyes drooping a bit as the sensation lulled her even closer to sleep.
“And you always get tired here. The next part is too important for you to sleep through. Next time, Dizzy.” She considers this, as much as she wanted to know what happened next in the story (and she really wanted to know- she hadn’t been wrong when she said her mother always stopped at that spot in the story. It had, in fact, been enough times Dizzy couldn’t count them all, even if she used both hands), But she wanted to be awake when she found out.
As Dizzy sunk more into her mother’s hand and her bed she had to admit it to herself, she was tired. What was the point of her mother telling more of the story if she wasn’t awake to listen to it? Then she would have to ask her mother to repeat it. What if she wasn’t around for a while? She would have to remind her mother where they left off, and if her mother didn’t know the next part off the top of her head? Well then they’d have to grab the book and page through it all over again, and that would take up a lot of time. A lot of time her mother never seemed to have. Her mother was right, it would be a lot easier if they waited till next time, Dizzy decides, and maybe then she could ask if her mom could start closer to where they ended rather than the beginning like she always does. As much as she loves to hear about the prince it probably would be a lot faster if they skip over that part. Opening her eyes again, which had closed at some point during her thoughts. Dizzy adjusts ever so slightly in her bed to get her mother’s attention.
“Promise?”
“I promise.” Justice smiled as her daughter finally settled into bed properly. How many nights have they had this exact same conversation and yet, it always ends the same. It didn’t matter though; her daughter’s enthusiasm around the story was quite encouraging to see. It’s good to let a kid dream a bit, a bit of warmth to help fend off the cruelties of reality. Something to hold onto. A motivation to keep one going, she would gladly read this story over and over to Dizzy as long as it made her happy. She was at the doorway of her daughter’s room now. Looking back in and watching her sleep. The slow rise and fall of the blanket putting her heart at ease. She allowed the moment to pass as she made her way into the hallway proper.
There was still so much work to be done, and yet Justice would do it as many times as it would take. All for her daughter’s happiness.