Birds circled overhead, high above the ruins, while Myra watched them from below through the gaping hole of the castle ceiling. She continued to gasp for air as she wrapped her arm around her waist tightly, sliding herself down on the floor. Her back pressed against one of the withered walls. Then, after catching her breath, she mustered up enough courage to loosen her grip on her abdomen. She lifted her hand a little to reveal her torn leather armour. The sharp scent from her now crimson palm stung her nose, forcing Myra to cover the gushing wound again, hissing to herself at the pressure. Of all places, she thought to herself, she really had to pick my side.

With her palm still covering the wound, Myra’s tense body finally began to ease…

“I know you’re in here,” called out a cold yet playful female voice, that reverberated around the empty castle. “Your majesty.

“I saw you run. Thought you could get away from me?” Myra had to cover her mouth with her free, but shaking, palm to steady her breaths.

“Did anybody ever tell you that this place doesn’t belong to you anymore?” Myra heard steady thuds of footsteps downstairs in the great hall. “I am aware that you’ve been gone for quite a long time. So it must still be hard to accept what happened around here - especially with your whole family…”

Myra’s head jerked to the balcony’s stairwell where the footsteps echoed louder. She was getting closer.

“Your people… All slaughtered.”

A sharp pain coursed through her heart as she heard those words. No, not again. Not right now…

Squawks and cries from above grew louder, as more birds joined the flock, almost drowning out her voice. Their silhouettes obscured the now bright scarlet light from the sky, dimming the balcony that Myra was in.

Her heart racing, Myra scrambled on her knees to not expose herself and felt the floor with trembling hands for her bow and quiver. She swore to herself as she continued to search until she felt the slight arch of her bow handle with her fingertips. In desperation, she was about to curl her fingers around the handle, but, a sudden force knocked it out of her grasp. Light gradually began to fall into where Myra was. The damn birds were finally gone. However, a familiar black boot now stood where her bow was meant to be.

“Tell me, Your Majesty,”

The monarch raised her head to where the woman stood composed in her teal-scaled armour, her blade pointing right at her. Her voice remained cold and smooth, which contrasted with the resentment and hatred that Myra saw in her dark eyes.

“How does it feel to be the reason that your kingdom fell?”