It was two in the afternoon - and a very eventful hour in Moonview City - especially for one individual - Fia Nior. It was the same old, same old. Smiling for the paparazzi. Giving them that dashing movie star smile. Giving the public what they want - for the hundredth time. For Fia, it was exhausting. Montomous even.
It's so easy to forget that fame does indeed come with a price - sometimes a cruel one.
Security opens the door of her Rolls-Royce Ghost - all the while pushing back the crowd. Shielding Fia from the relentless bombardment of flashing cameras and grabbing hands. She wastes no time in hurrying inside and blows one final kiss to the screaming sea of fans and persistent press before the door finally shuts.
The designated driver starts the engine, making it hum to life.
Knowing that her next destination is home, she takes a moment to remove her sunglasses and melt into the soft leather seat.
Finally.
Then a familiar voice cuts her respite short.
"Miss Noir, don't you think it's too early to return to your apartment? We have another interview in less than half an hour."
Her publicist reminded her while sitting opposite Fia with her legs crossed.
"Cancel it."
"We can't cancel the interview. We have to be there."
"I said cancel it."
"Fine, but it's not every day that someone earns platinum on their latest album."
The publicist grumbled under her breath and pulled out her phone, acting flustered. Loose strands of blonde hair came out of her high bun. They have been running around all day. This is the only time that the two of them have had a chance to stop. Fia pays her no mind as she makes the call and takes out her own phone to busy herself - proceeding to go through her socials.
Then a strange heading on a social media post catches her eye.
It reads: The Fall Of The Emperor!
She frowns and clicks on it.
Everything around her becomes muted and faded.
There were two photos of Prosper standing next to a large black armored vehicle and Engel being escorted into the back of the truck by special forces.
The crease between her brows deepens.
Her heart became heavy, and her chest tightened like a vice.
She tried to look at the photos themselves to see if she could zoom into their faces, but the quality of the photograph was very low in resolution. Regardless, she could still tell it was them just going by the shape of their faces.
Then a voice interjects her daze.
"Ok, the interview has been canceled."
Fia just stared at her for a brief moment, and then she realized she was talking about the interview.
She paused again, trying to find the right words, but the only thing that came from her lips was.
"Thank you, Viv," she murmured.
Her publicist looked at her for a second, studying her face. The last time she called her by her nickname was when they were dating.
She coughed into her hand and said with an awkward stiffness.
"You are welcome."
The awkward silence lasted the entire journey.
The entire journey.
****
The moment Fia stepped inside her penthouse and locked the door, the pressures of being a public figure melted away in an instant. She quickly turned the lights on so she could see her bright, beautiful haven.
Here, it was safe.
Private.
It was her sanctuary where she could escape to whenever life became too overwhelming - or when she wanted to be alone with her music.
She set aside her sunglasses and keys on the kitchen countertop.
And for a moment the musician paused.
She stood there.
Just being present.
Breathing in silence.
Admiring her luxury apartment.
It was enormous and modern. The decor was the complete opposite of her parents' house, where everything had more of a rustic quality to it.
She remembered when she first bought this place.
It was right after the time when her first album reached the charts and hit records.
She walked down her corridor. Passing by the awards, platinum records, and framed photographs she had accumulated over the years, which now decorate the walls.
She placed them there so she could remind herself how far she had come.
Then the lights suddenly dimmed in the living room.
Fia frowned.
She began to hear the piano in the living room play.
Her footsteps stopped.
She recognised this piano piece.
The melody drifted throughout the corridors, guiding her forward.
Then, as the living room came into view, her heart immediately sank.
And there he was.
Engel was at the piano with his back to her.
She slowly approached him.
His pale fingers effortlessly danced across the keys.
This was the first piece he taught her when she was a little girl.
He was the very person who got her into playing the piano.
He became the reason why she fell in love with playing music.
She sat beside him on the stool, and without uttering a word, her fingers greeted the pale keys.
Joining him in song.
And in that same instant, she forgot about the news, the public, the canceled interview.
Everything.
In this moment, she only saw her father.
The room around her disappeared.
He turned to her and smiled, as if nothing had changed.
That same old and unforgettable warmth which never left.
This music took her back to the days when she was a child.
The moments she listened patiently as he demonstrated and positioned the hands on the keys.
Laughing softly when she became frustrated.
He told her that music was about feeling, not perfection.
Then her mind wandered again and began to reminisce about the other memories they had.
When he taught her how to ride a bike.
When they went to the cinema toegther to watch that silly movie she always wanted to watch.
When she went to music college.
When she released her first song.
He was always there every step of the way.
Fia swallowed the lump building up in her throat and continued playing alongside him.
All of these memories of her were real, but was the man known as the emperor also real?
Was he really a criminal?
Was the one she loved really a monster?
Someone thought to be so cruel?
Her fingers trembled.
Why?
Why did this have to happen?
The question never escaped her lips.
And then her fingers stopped.
She turned to look beside her.
He was gone.
Fia rested her hands on her lap and sat frozen in place.
Never had she felt so alone.
So cold.
Fia flinched as the intercom suddenly rang.
Reality returned.
Sobering her.
Then she slowly stood up from the stool.
Her heart began to drum against her chest.
She walked over to the security panel, tapping into the camera feed.
Several officers stood outside her residence.
The police.
Fia stared.
Her breathing became shallow and quiet.
Deep down in her gut, she knew why they were here.
Why they were all here.
She pressed the communication button.
"Yes?"
"Miss Noir?"
The police officer's voice was calm.
Professional.
"We would like to ask you some questions regarding Engel Darkbourne."
Fia closed her eyes briefly.
It was only a matter of time before they did a background search on her.
"Am I being detained?"
There was a pause.
"Not at this time."
"Then I would like to speak with my legal representative before answering any questions."
"Miss Noir, we are only asking for your cooperation."
Fia understood what was at stake, and time was ticking.
The world was closing in.
She was no longer seen as Fia Noir, but as Amy Darkbourne.
The daughter of Engel Darkbourne - the emperor.
"I understand," she said quietly.
"But my answer still remains the same."
She took her finger off the button.
Silence quickly dawned on her.
Then her eyes drifted towards the balcony in the living room.
Where the view of the night was apparent.
Then Engel's voice reached her ears in the form of a whisper.
"Fly."
Amy hurried into the living room and stepped outside, eyeing the police cars gathered down at the bottom around the building.
She didn't have much time left.
The cold night air caressed her pale face.
For years, she had kept her past hidden.
Not because she was ashamed of it.
Because she wanted a life to call her own.
And now that life she had built was being ripped away from her.
She peered into the yonder; there was movement ahead.
Helicopters.
Drones.
The authorities were expanding their forces.
The ground units moved through the streets below while aircrafts searched the darkness above.
They weren't just satisfied with Engel's arrest.
They wanted the entire family.
She closed her eyes - and allowed the tension from her body to dissipate.
Bones twisted and turned.
Wings sprouted and unfolded.
The woman known as Fia Noir had vanished.
And now a horned owl stands in her place.
Amy flaps her wings and perches onto the railing.
Then she spreads her grey wings far and wide.
She launches herself into the air and ascends into the night sky.
Silent.
Undercover.
Free.
For now.
****
The further she flew, the quieter the world became.
The city grew smaller and disappeared beneath her.
The flashing lights, the noise, and the crowds had soon faded.
All of it.
Only the stars above remained.
The same ones her dad once pointed out to her when she was small.
It was on a beautiful snowy day, when she made her first snowman.
She remembered the words he spoke to her that same night.
"No matter where we are in the world, we will always share the same sky."
The childhood memory delivered a sharp pang to her wearisome heart.
Amy flew faster.
She needed answers.
She needed to return to the family home.
The forests stretched ahead.
She performed a nose dive and descended into the depths of the forest.
Amy could see the family home just ahead between the branches.
Warm lights illuminated beyond the windows.
She felt a wave of relief wash over her because she knew he would be there.
The only person who would understand what was happening.
The only person who would tell her the truth.