The handcuffs they put on me are ridiculously tight. Obviously, it's not the first time—I've been arrested at least four times before—but I swear it was never my fault. I'm not a thief; I just have a temper when it comes to people who want to hurt me, that's all… And yeah, okay, once I did sell drugs. Someone gave me a little package to deliver, a favor for a friend, but I got tricked because it was actually small bags of cannabis.
All that to say, yes, it's not the first time my wrists have been locked in iron, but at least back then my mom, Sarah, could always bail me out of that crap. Not this time. These soldiers dragged me to the castle—a castle that stands in stark contrast to the Realm of Davidova's atmosphere. It was historical-looking, and they shoved me down into some kind of dungeon cell. I saw several lined up, but there didn't seem to be many people inside. Why didn't they just take me to a police station, like normal cops would? Or maybe this is where they bring the "problem cases"… and then what? Torture them?
I didn't have time to think further. One of the officers opened the cell door and threw me in, kicking me as I stumbled inside. I landed with a little cry of pain, and he slammed the door shut. Looking around, I saw a filthy old mattress on the floor, some kind of hole-in-the-ground toilet in the corner. The cell walls were actually rusted iron bars—aged but still sturdy. My hands were still cuffed behind my back. They hadn't even bothered to take them off. Seriously, what's their problem?
"Fucking cops…" I muttered.
"Right? If they didn't exist, things would be a lot better."
I froze, startled by the voice. I pushed myself up with my backside and turned to the left, where the sound came from. There stood a tall woman. She wore a black mask covering her eyes, a blue jacket and skirt, a white blouse, gloves, black tights, and heels. She seemed familiar. My eyes dropped to her wrist—free of restraints—and I noticed she wore a bracelet like mine.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"No need for formalities. Just call me… Stellio."
I went silent for half a minute. Did she just call herself Stellio? The Stellio?! The infamous thief of the Empire, a hero to many, a Robin Hood figure who never hesitated to rob the rich and give to the poor.
"Y-you… you're the real Stellio."
"In the flesh. And you? Not going to introduce yourself, rude girl?"
I sighed and finally spoke.
"Roxy Hearts, heir of Trickery."
"Trickery? Ha, that's funny. Me, I'm Illegality… probably because, well, I'm a criminal."
She tells me with a charming smile and keeps watching me. But something runs through my mind: Stellio is known for never letting herself be caught, and if she lets herself be caught, it's because she wants to.
"Why are you stuck here?!" I ask.
"I heard Babylonians were being held here. I planned to sneak in from the inside to free anyone trapped, but it seems you're the only one… Except the prince in the cell next to mine, but he's moping… A real crybaby — rare to see that from the Borruns."
I turn and make out a fairly muscular silhouette in the other cell: someone with long white hair, an imposing build and an aristocratic uniform, chained to the wall.
"Well… I doubt anyone else will join us tonight, so… let's try to escape. What do you think, Roxy?"
I look at Stellio. I don't fully trust her — not just because she's a thief but because she must have a real reason to be here. She can't have let herself be locked up just to save potential rivals; that would be stupid.
"Roxy?"
Stellio presses, and I snap out of my thoughts. Her offer is tempting, but I'm afraid there's a price. So I ask without filter.
"And what do you get out of it?"
"An ally."
She reaches her arm through the bars, expecting a handshake — except my hands are cuffed behind my back. I turn to try to take her hand and suddenly I feel the rings around my wrists come loose. Did she just perform a trick to unlock my cuffs?
Suddenly I see her open the cell door — it's unlocked?! A million questions rush through my head. As if she can read my thoughts, she says,
"I opened it a few hours ago."
She hurries out of her cell and tries my door; it unlocks quickly. I watch her completely wreck the lock. I get out fast and look at the prince.
"You want us to free him?"
"Yes… Maybe if he's free he could change things?"
Stellio shrugs and heads to his cell, knocking on the bars.
"Semyon! Prince Medvedev, would you like to step out of this cage?"
He doesn't get up; he stares at the floor.
"Why are you locked up here? This isn't your place."
He groans and speaks in a hoarse voice.
"My mother betrayed me after the king's death. She took full power and tells the people I can't be on the throne because of a grave, deadly illness."
I wince slightly — his mother must be a real bitch, like in stories I've read.
"If we manage to overthrow your mother… you could regain power and do something for the Babylonians."
"I could… But… it's impossible."
Stellio shakes her head briskly.
"Nothing that's impossible is truly impossible, believe me… I've broken into safes people call impossible."
She opens the cell and steps toward the Borrun. I figure I'll try to keep convincing him.
Stellio removes the prince's chains.
"At least… your chains are off, so you can escape whenever you want."
He doesn't move and Stellio turns back.
"Let's go. I doubt he wants to do anything for his people."
I watch Stellio and turn one last time to look at the despair radiating from his form. If I had the real power of the 94th Deadhorse, I might be able to convince him—but I don't have that power. For now I have nothing until the Abundance trial begins.
"What do we do then, Stellio?"
"I don't know the castle's layout, especially the dungeon, so let's explore!"
I nod. It could be worse—we could be chased—but for the moment no guard is on our trail, and we move from corridor to corridor until we reach a staircase we climb. We finally get out of the dungeon and slip quietly from room to room without being seen by the guards. Stellio is an expert at stealth; she uses several tricks to distract guards and draw them away.
By chance we finally arrive in the throne room, an old chamber with many tapestries—mostly purple—on the walls and two thrones, one for the king and one for the queen, I suppose.
"…We're in the right place… so probably through there…"
Stellio points to the great door, but as we head toward it someone steps into our path: a muscular Borrun armed with a sword and wearing a red robe. She has white hair like Prince Semyon, but I get chills when I see her—the same feeling I had when I faced Gleb the Sylvaris, disciple of Judgment. She's a Disciple, I'm sure of it.
"Let us pass," I say, trying to intimidate the queen who is technically twice my size and whose strength seems considerable—Borruns are mountains of muscle, I swear.
"No… You are Babylonians and you must be executed. That is the law I have proclaimed."
I clench my fists.
"Why?! I'm looking for logic."
"Because… the only heirs of the Deadhorses must be the disciples. I am Queen Milana Mevdev, queen of the Realm of Davidova, Disciple of Beauty, and no Babylonian has the right to win. If I must kill you myself, then I will."
She readies her sword, but suddenly Semyon appears, eyes full of anger, moving to attack his mother. She defends herself quickly—the Martyrs are not just useless, they have skill in combat.
"My son… You should have stayed in your cell… How dare you rebel."
"I cannot remain indifferent to this situation, mother… Surrender, give me the power as father wished, and your life will be spared."
"Poor fool, I am the queen here and I—"
The queen is cut off mid-sentence; a knife flies through the air and lands in her throat, killing her immediately.
I turn to Stellio—she didn't throw the knife, and neither did I. What happened? I turn and see a hooded figure; it's impossible to make out their face or race, and then they vanish. An assassin. I look to Semyon, who seems devastated; he stands near his mother.
"Mother…"
The main doors swing open and an army of soldiers enters the throne room and sees the dead queen. A petty-looking noble steps forward from the ranks.
"Arrest this band of murderers… execute them tomorrow."
I try to defend myself.
"We didn't do anything!"
But it's useless; the soldiers' weapons don't lower. I raise my hands and whisper to Stellio,
"What do we do?"
Stellio sighs.
"Surrender… It's impossible to fight or flee."
"But the great Stellio can escape from anywhere."
Stellio lets out a small, resigned smile.
"That's true, but… you can't escape from everywhere."
The soldiers close in, force us to the ground, and slap the handcuffs on me again. Damn, I was doing fine without them—and this time they're so tight I feel like the blood has stopped flowing. I hope it hasn't.
They stand us up and take us back to the dungeon, but this time lower, to a more modern section: a long row of metal doors. I see Stellio put into one of those cells, and then it's my turn.
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Lore informations
Stellio : She is a girl of an unknown age, her name is famous as the one of a robber acting like robin hood in the empire, she has never been caught before and she is a master in escaping situations. She is a heir of the deadhorse of Illegality
88, Illegalia : The deadhorse of illegality, they seeks a heir who is no hesitant defying the justice of the countries. Their heirs have different powers depending the crime they are the best at
Semyon Medvedev : The prince of the realm of Davidova. He is the son of Milana and the deceased king. He is a single child and should have inherited the throne but was declared sick by her mother which only was an excuse to have him locked away
Milana Medvedev : She married to the ancient king of the realm of Davidova, she is part of the martyrs and her goal was to seduce the king and infiltrate Davidova's royalty. She is a disciple of the Beauty (23)
23, Schein : The deadhorse of beauty. They seek the most beautiful and most gorgeous heir. Their heirs have a natural beauty that help them seduces peoples