Caffeine and Magix

The castle’s ramparts formed a cold line against the fiery sky. The sun rose on blood-slicked walls and fields muddled with death.

A girl stood at the great doors, mouth set hard against the early winter cold, her dress streaked with soot and golden rays of sunlight. She raised her hand, curled her battered fingers into the red on her palms, and knocked.

Tap, tap, tap

The knight in charge of opening the doors covered his mouth to catch the sob. He slumped against the cold stone and did not reach for the pulley system that could heave the giant wood doors open. “Please, go back. Go back, your highness.”

“That’s hardly fair,” the girl said. She shielded her eyes against the sun and looked over the battlefield. There were not many who were able to return her gaze and those that could didn’t. “I won.”

The knight shook so hard that his armor clattered together at the joints. When the king agreed to let the throne go to the victor of the coup, no one expected this. Neither the Crown Prince nor the young Duke returned from battle.

Only the Princess.

“The people will rejoice,” the princess said. A girl of only sixteen summers and her voice was as smooth as the most seasoned negotiator. “The kind princess who gave so generously to the orphanage ended the battle before it spread to the country. She did it for the people. Isn’t it right she rule now?”

“I s-saw you,” the knight stuttered. He was keeping watch in the ramparts at midnight when the moon hung full overhead. He saw the princess jump over the wall. He saw what she changed into. “Y-you’re not the princess.”

There was a long pause. “Ah.” The princess sighed. “You’ve only made this harder for yourself, you realize? The result remains the same. I will be queen.”

The knight felt all his breath flee from his lungs as shadows writhed underneath the door. No. He drew breath to scream, but it was too late. The shadows crawled over his face.

The last thing he heard was a familiar groan as the castle doors opened.