Making a Scene {32}

Aloysia swiftly moved from her position, grunting from rooftop upon rooftop with feline grace all the way to the daunting clock tower hanging over the city that housed the southern castle.

Her bare hands relished the feel of each rooftop she clung too, muscles straining- yet it exhilarated her further, needing to build that courage.

The clock's height and sight lines allowed good access for sniping as she knew the King would take extra precaution returning to the castle.

More so than departure...

Why? Well the safety of sunrise was no longer granted; and the hidden trap that laid before the skies in waiting could now be shielded from sight with the cover of darkness...

Aloysia lifted her body weight strenuously, clambering onto a slight ledge peaking out from the underside of the clock tower chiming 7:58pm. It was almost time.

She gripped solid concrete with her filthy boots, brushing off rubble and dust that crumbled away from the stone; trickling down the sides like a waterfall.

Aloysia steadied herself, breathing regulated as she swung the bow clasped around her front and backside into her arms now that she stooped in place.

The precision in which she just did that was frightening alone. Too bad no one saw it...

Aloysia's gentle touch traced the smooth curves of the bow, almost figuring out every edge of the weapon.

Identifying its secrets, it's strength's, it's weakness'.

Attached to her hip lay 4 sharp arrows, to which she frowned upon; this would be up close then...

The dagger's hilt that was stashed away under her thigh gleamed in the light reflection of the clock behind her.

All was still.

It was a quiet night, the streets humming an eerie silence as the shadow waited for her target to appear, ever patient.

Eyes peering at the street, she docked an arrow from her hip, and pulled back on the strings, only an inch.

As she did so, hustling people emerged from the crumbling temple, each with a grave expression; including the prince, which bit harshly at her control.

No beautiful face should look in such disarray.

Shaking of the emotions, Aloysia stood firm, ensuring her crouch on the eccentric clock tower; she loosened a breath while slowly continuing to pull the nocked arrow.

The king emerged...

The bow groaned with the strength applied as the fletching caressed her cheek.

People, guards, chaos surrounded the royals, fuelled by grief, at the rush to leave the literal death site.

Out of said chaos, only one was seen in her eyes, and his face was as vile and as monstrous the day she first witnessed it in her actual chambers so long ago...

On the day the Queen died.

On the day she was snatched away...

The bow screamed at the powerful grip, threatening to snap at the anger surging through it.

She was shaking with anticipation. The wind was breathing with her as it swept her cloak behind.

Aloysia's face had death written on it, highlighted and underlined...

She could end it.

Here and now.

He looked oblivious, the wretched smile that smacked her in the face told her many things.

Aloysia's eyes glazed over, the clock tower chiming 8pm behind her.

The flood of emotions rushing her mind.

The sound vibrating in her ears was deafening yet she didn't even flinch.

Fire within gurgled at the anger re-surfacing.

She released...

The wind took control of the arrows tip as it drove through the air opposing it.

The arrows metal tip glinted as the reflections flickered on and off it from the lights beneath.

Aloysia's crimson glare fixated on it as a grin lit up her daunting face; watching the arrow swerve, plunging its target precisely in the place she needed.

Not the king however, but the transport; the carriage wheels' connecting rod, that said king was boarding.

All within a second, wood splintered as the wheel rod snapped, the main frame of the cart collapsing with it.

Concrete met wood as it crashed to the floor, startling the horses who became skittish; hooves flailing.

They took off in an instant, trampling through chaotic crowd who began screaming.

Many people shrieked as the arrow plunged. Hearing the slicing of the air, drove them to retreat and try and leave- but... the guards... to protect the king... were not letting them leave.

Forming a barrier to huddle them, group them; vacating a large empty space occupied around the king.

Mort stumbled back, bashing into the Prince who caught himself, managing to remain upright.

His hands shot out to steady himself as he took in the scene around him.

Liam's eyes widened at the sight, an arrow, lodged perfectly in the crevice of the connecting rods, slicing it in half to ultimately disconnect the wheels; therefore collapsing the whole structure.

There was only one way for a cart to collapse from without manually dismantling it...

And that arrow... had shot it's exact location... the prince shot up in realisation, breath going ragged as he turned toward the clock tower; and as he presumed, a shadow of the mad female he recognised as Aloysia, casted against the candle light illuminating from within the tower.

A silhouette.

It was unrealistic, it was menacing, it was... a statement.

Symbols have power.

It must be part of a plan she no doubt formulated, as he knew she was reckless, but was careful when it came to the public eye. He knew that from when he studied her months ago.

Liam mentally slapped himself in the face, of course she would appear, that's why the king was acting unsettled in the cart, for fear of the worst.

He drew his stare to the silhouette once again, the worst fears of the king coming true.

Unknown fright creeped through the back of his mind, playing like a hologram in-front of his eyes.

Not of The Shadow, but of the Northern king.

A chill shot down his spine as he faced him.

The anger, the fury that resided in the dark orbs the prince was staring into caused him to shiver, retracting a few steps...

~

No means of transport.

He can't escape.

Aloysia counted, 50 men, maybe more, cocooning the distressed civilians. Halting anyone from leaving.

Tactics.

It was fair game.

That's when out of the boisterous crowd, a friendly face was spotted, brushing past people to slip out unattended.

Zelek.

The shaggy hood could be eyes upon from a mile away.

And as if understanding that he had been recognised, his head pivoted towards her, faintly nodding.

Aloysia slightly nodded back in return, acknowledging everything she needed to know from him.

Even without verbal communication, she knew he had returned from searching the castle diligently for Zillah.

A frown graced her lips at the thought of her missing sibling, and the beating of her heart became erratic at the pain of feeling useless in finding her began to stir.

She sighed deeply, releasing the tension and keeping her mind sharp on the plan.

So instead, she would rip out the heart of the man responsible, as a gift of course.

That seemed fitting for a wretched man, don't you think?

As she began her quick descent toward the king, power roared in her veins, preparing for a blood bath that was yet to come.

She moved fluidly over the rooftops, showing off slightly, just to impose the already growing fear further...

No one dared move a muscle or even blink as Aloysia entered the vicinity. Too startled and shocked that breathing became impossible.

However one was stupid enough, someone was aiming at her, following her; she could feel the eyes on the back of her neck.

She was being watched through her ascend, she had no doubt about that, but by whose eyes that were burning through her cloak was yet to be discovered...

Aloysia landed solidly of the hard concrete floor from an effortless leap. Directly centre of the parted crowd pinning their gazes on her.

Most leant away, cowering as she regained her footing. They did not want to be here, no one did.

The king however faced her immediately, a look of disgust washed over his inhuman face.

The abandoned clock tower chimed; the wind howled, the darkness crept in, lights flickered at the power radiating off her.

All was silence, until Aloysia broke it...

Oh how she would enjoy every second of this.