31.

Elai is lucky that he still has his Lylenian clothes. Now he doesn’t have to escape with the enemy colors draped over his body. Cesilia’s words did it for him; he needs to get out of this castle, and he needs to do it now. Chay will probably take him back in with a smile on his face, and he might even keep it a secret from the king. They’ve grown close enough for Elai to know this, so he’s confident that once he’s outside of the castle gates, he will be safe. His heart is racing out of his chest. He doesn’t have to carry any burdening stuff; he got here with nothing but his royal clothes. He straps the dagger Chay had made for him tightly around his thigh, the holster biting into his pale skin. He has to grit his teeth through the first seconds; it is quite painful to carry such a thing around. The only thing protecting his skin from bleeding is his pants, long coat now falling over his shoulders. He ties the top together; if he’s going to do it, he’s got to do it right. He was lucky it is common for people to have these coats in Turi. No one will recognize him once he blends himself into the crowd.
The dark night that is hovering over Turi is his only opportunity. If he is quick enough, and Chay won’t take him in, he’ll at least manage to escape the capital before morning. He is glad that he has a second chance if his friend decides to abandon him. His second plan is much more difficult than being hidden inside of Chay’s home. He will not only have to escape the capital and Turi’s city, but the outer rings as well. He will have to find a new home to settle down, and he will have to start his journey all over again. He’s not sure if getting back home is really worth all of this, if killing the warlord will even bring anything back to him, but he’s too motivated not to try.
Elai closes the door behind him without looking back. He needs to get out of here; he needs to go anywhere but here. Not only is his life in danger, but he has been living the same way as he lived back home. He is not about to live inside of numerous walls once again, even though the king has every right to suspect him.
The prince’s steps are quick, boots barely making a sound as he lightens up the heaviness of his own bones. It’s a trick he taught himself after the first two trainings. Putting extra focus onto his own bones is extremely easy and he can control it without thinking of it. He’d love to be thankful of Arlon for teaching him at least a few things about his ability, but a king of Turi stays an enemy to him. He can’t feel anything else for Arlon besides hatred.. or so that was his initiate plan. But there is no time to let his mind wander, to think about the man that has intrigued him. The guards aren’t in the hallway, as if they knew about Elai’s decision and are trying to help him. Or they’re just on their break, or whatever guards do when they’re not.. guarding.
He’s getting close to the stairs, eyes already focusing on the guards in the main hall. Of course they haven’t left. It would’ve been too good to be true. He can almost smell the tension around him. The tension of escaping, of running away. It takes him just one more step before his eyes focus on something completely different. He freezes in his spot as a strand of his hair falls to the ground. A silhouette stops him, dagger pulling back from his blonde locks.
“I hope that wasn’t important.” Elai hates to admit that the voice is all too familiar. The king is looking down at the startled boy. “Now look who we have here..” His gloved hand reaches out to touch Elai’s hair, but the boy is quick enough to avoid the touch. “If it isn’t the raider..” They both have a feeling it is the last time anyone will call Elai that. “Step aside and you won’t get hurt.” Elai’s words are filled with hope and desperation; he will get out of here. He will. He sure isn’t afraid of some dagger pointing at him, even though it is Arlon who is holding it. He doesn’t move a single muscle when the dagger crawls up against his throat. The sharpness makes him flinch a little, but there is no fear in Elai’s eyes. All he feels now, is hatred. Arlon has stopped him from escaping, and he’s quite sure he won’t get away now.
Arlon grins. “I don’t think that was our agreement.”
Before the king can realize it, Elai’s presence ducks away from him. He feels pressure in his back, but not enough to freeze him in his spot. He’s impressed; Elai was somehow able to get past his slow resistance. “Is that all you can do?” Arlon will not admit to it, though. He turns around, a slight pain escaping his body as Elai tries to tighten his grip around the king’s bones. “You haven’t even gone through half of what you need to know. What made you decide-“
“I will never return. Just let me go.” Elai doesn’t have time for chit chat, no matter how nice Arlon’s voice is. He needs to have enough time to make it all the way through the capital before morning. Somehow, his lost cause won’t stop him. He is still determined to get away.
“I don’t think that’s a good plan.” Arlon’s act is easy. He has done it a thousand times. There’s no way a boy like Elai could see through his own lie.
The blonde boy wants to grab a hold of the dagger, but any sudden movement is easy for Arlon to detect. He needs to get out of his sight if he wants to try and attack the king. He has done everything he can do with his ability and what he had already learned; he needs to rely on his small weapon now. Arlon takes a step forward and sticks out his own weapon, Elai making a quick run for it. It is not towards the main gates, but now he can at least defend himself. He holds onto the green dagger as tight as he can as he turns around.
Arlon’s eyebrows raise. “Oh? You had that hidden with you all this time?”
The green material is familiar to the king’s eyes. He knows Chay made it, and it doesn’t surprise that the alchemist would do that for Elai. Arlon has seen the way Chay looks at the exiled prince. He knows that he’s maybe even starting to fall in love with him. Chay would’ve done that for Arlon once, too. Now he’s distant, a friend turning back into a stranger.
“I don’t want to fight you.” Elai makes Arlon laugh as he takes another step forward. The king seems to get a thrill out of it, dagger purposely missing Elai. It doesn’t take long for the sharp object to cut open Elai’s cheek, legs faltering. He’s surprised, fingers quickly wiping the blood off as his jaw drops. How did he do that? Elai was sure he had all Arlon’s moves in his vision. Is the king truly that good at any type of fighting?
“Are you sure you don’t want to do that?” It is a risk. A ginormous risk. But Elai is too weak to attack him, to try and kill him. And so Arlon takes a deep breath and puts his dagger back into his pocket. “Because last time I checked..” He has to take the risk, he has to take it right now. He knows everything about Elai. He knows his only way back into Lyle, is Arlon. If he wants to keep Elai here, he has to play with this knowledge, with this power. He knows this. Arlon has become one hell of a smart man, and so he opens his mouth to continue. He takes off his left glove, the mark on top of his hand now bright in front of Elai’s eyes. No fucking way.
“You were looking for me.” Arlon’s words stop Elai from breathing.
He can’t do anything else but stare with wide eyes; Aron carries the mark of the warlord. Arlon.. he is the warlord. He has been the warlord this whole time. his target was right there in front of him for weeks. Disbelief roams around in his veins yet the proof is looking right at him. Is this truly happening?
“What- how- you-“
“It feels kind of good to know that I have the prince of Lyle as my prisoner.”