"I CANNOT FIND HER, FATHER." Arthur said, "No one in the palace knows where she has gone." For once, he was not crying wolf…
"Gil," Arthuria warned.
Gilgamesh sat on the throne in silence, "Sound the alarm—"
In that moment, the great doors creaked open. A herald stepped forward! "Crown Princess Artizea Pendragon." his voice rang through the hall while she strode to the center.
Lies, Artizea thought, her chest heaving, her fists clenched so tightly her nails bit into her palms.
Her father's expression was an unreadable mask. "Do any of you understand what it means to be grounded?" his tone was low but firm, a father slipping back into a king's mask.
But Artizea did not hear him. Not really. She stopped before the very throne she was convinced would be hers one day…more lies. "You knew," she hissed with anger infused with venom. "You all knew."
The siblings looked at each other, then to their father, but he did not respond either.
"Say something!" Artizea cried out, her voice echoing off the pillars as they slightly trembled.
Her mother stepped forward, slowly. "We did it to protect you."
"Protect me?" Artizea's lip quivered. "You have all been lying to me, all my life! Even you, Arthur." Her gaze pointed at her brother, betrayal etched across her face. "You swore!" her voice echoed in a voice deeper than her own.
Arthur closed his eyes. He opened his mouth, but what came out was not his voice.
"You were not ready to know," Gilgamesh said, finally, "We did what we thought was—"
"When were you going to tell us that I am a half-bred!" she snarled. "That I am half celestial! Like you! That is why the sky cannot close… because you are one of them… your punishment from the gods… is me, isn't it?"
Her father's eyes flickered, unsteady for the first time, along with her family. The room was still in stunned with silence.
"So never then—" Artizea wiped her tears at the back of her eyes, "Do not tell me this was for the best; you said it yourself, my powers are a curse, that there's no escaping this fate, you knew about the prophecy. About the cage. About what I am! Because you built it! For me!" She took a step forward, her hands trembling. "You built that prison for me, you planned to chain me there. You were ready to lock me away that day, weren't you…Tell me the truth!"
Her father's jaw tightened; he still did not speak. He could not.
Artizea's breath grew heavier, her pupils slitting into irises, fragments of memories overwhelmed her all at once, the chains, the runes, the suffocating darkness. She saw Tiamat, roaring in pain as golden chains bound her wings and crushed her spirit. A voice filled with sorrow. "Why do you look at me with such fear?"
Artizea snapped, her voice rising. "You were afraid I would become her," she said, tears streaming down her face. "The kingdom. Always the kingdom. What about me, Father? Do I mean nothing to you?"
"You mean everything…" Gilgamesh finally managed to say.
"Then why!" Artizea shot back."WHY!"
"I had no other choice," Gilgamesh said finally, his voice steady but cold.
That was the final spark.
"I bore you, I gave you life. I gave you everything. And this is how you repay me? Traitors—"
Artizea's voice broke, whispering to herself, "Traitors…"
Arthuria stepped forward once more, her voice calm but urgent. "Artizea—"
"Get away from me!" Artizea screamed, her aura flaring, sending a shock wave to everything in her vicinity. Her anger boiled over, and with it, the energy she had always tried to suppress. A deep, guttural roar tore from her throat while her body began to change. Scales erupted across her skin, her limbs elongating, and her hands twisted into claws.
"Artizea!" Arthur's voice was sharp, but she was beyond hearing.
The throne room descended into chaos upon her transformation. Her massive tail slammed into a pillar, sending shards of marble flying. Her wings unfurled, stretching wide and casting the room in shadow. Her eyes burned with a fiery rage that consumed her reason. Her gaze lingered on the royal portraits, years of lies. For a fleeting heartbeat, her chest hitched, the dragon fire in her throat faltering, her home… All Lies. The hesitation broke with a sharp, guttural roar. Flame surged from her jaws, devouring canvas and oil paint in seconds, colors blistering into ash. The fire spread to the gardens, where her largest garden rested. But the queen's gaze was concerned for something far more precious.
"The portraits!" Arthuria's voice cracked, staggering back at the sight of their family curling into ash.
"Arthuria, get back!" Gilgamesh's command was sharp, his arm snapping out to shield her from the searing heat.
Artizea roared, the sound shaking the castle, crashing through the throne room wall.
Eugene darted past the flames, reaching for the surviving frames.
"Eugene, now is not the time—!" Arthur barked.
"You know how much these mean to mother, to the family!" Eugene's voice was fierce, almost pleading. "Get our sister back before she burns herself along with them!"
Elaine was already kneeling beside the wounded palace guards. "I will help the injured, go!"
Arthur's jaw tightened. He gave his siblings a curt nod, then bolted after Artizea, who was storming into the city, a trail of heat and fury in her wake.
The ruined hall lay behind them, the last of the family's painted legacy curling into blackened scraps, just as the realms had when Tiamat herself once unleashed her wrath. The walls of the throne room began to crumble, sending debris cascading onto the fleeing advisors and royal knightguards. The once-magnificent hall was reduced to the throne itself standing amidst the rubble.
"The prophecy…" Arthuria whispered inaudibly.
"Lady Eliese, protect the queen—" Gilgamesh shouted to the queen's Female royal knightguard.
"No!" Arthuria exclaimed, "I am going with you, that is still our daughter." She pulled away from his grasp and said, "Anyone who tries to stop me will be sorry," she commanded, taking off to the city.
"…Your Majesty?" Lady Eliese asked cautiously.
"Send word to King Alexander," Gilgamesh grunted in frustration.
"And say what, your Majesty—"
"Nothing."
Lady Eliese was confused, yet bowed and did as instructed.
Gilgamesh turned to the knights remaining, "I want every guard and Royal knight in Babyloniyah on that field, now!"
Upon the king's command, the entire Pendragon army within his vicinity surged.
Arthur sprinted after Artizea while helping the woman and children escape the falling debris. Then came a desperate cry for help, filling the area from a collapsed building. He did not hesitate. One swift kick splintered the weakened frame, and he barreled inside. A boy, eyes wide with terror, reached for him. Arthur scooped him out of the rubble just as the roof gave way behind them. He spun, "Are you injured? No? Was anyone else in there?"
The boy bobbed his head in panic. "My friends…"
Arthur dropped to one knee, gripping his shoulders, steadying him. "I am sorry for your loss." Then he pulled the boy into a firm embrace. "Head to the palace. Run, as fast as you can—" he called out, watching the boy sprint.
Then a tail whipped out without warning, CRACK. The blow of her sharp scales slammed into his ribs, sending him crashing into a wall. Pain flared white-hot in his side, but he grit his teeth, forcing himself back up. His eyes locked on the dragon's blazing gaze. "I am not yielding this time," he growled.
Artizea's chest swelled, the furnace in her throat igniting, and then a torrent of fire roared toward him.
"Arthur!" Gilgamesh was fast, then shot his hand out, absorbing the fire as much as he could, shielding them both from the heat as best he could. "Are you out of your mind ?!" he yelled.
Arthuria was already there, shoving past her husband. She dropped to her knees, eyes scanning her son's side. "Hold still," she commanded, tearing a sleeve from her tunic, tying it tightly around his ribs.
"I am fine," Arthur hissed, but his breath hitched when she cinched the fabric. They stared at each other, both breathing hard. "Mother… I am scared," he admitted, voice breaking just slightly.
Arthuria 's gaze softened, though her hands stayed firm. "We will not lose her."
Arthur nodded, pushing himself back to his feet.
"Shake it off," his father ordered.
Arthur exhaled sharply, squared his shoulders, and did just that. The three of them took off again, chasing the shadow of the dragon through the burning city.
Artizea landed on top of a monument to the power and history of her bloodline, which felt like a mockery. Her rage was a storm, uncontrollable and all-consuming. She landed with an earth-shaking thud in the temple courtyard, the sight of the ancient building only fueling her fury. With a deafening roar, she unleashed a torrent of dragon fire.
The temple walls crumbled under the onslaught, centuries of history reduced to ash and rubble. She did not care. In that moment, the world was her enemy, and she wished for it to burn. The air around her was pure suffocation, her massive dragon form casting an ominous shadow over the land, the scent of ash and scorched earth thick in the air.
ARTIZEA
Artizea raged uncontrollably, fire and chaos erupted around her. The roar of her fury drowned out the desperate cries of those trying to bring her back. Somewhere deep within her fractured consciousness, a hauntingly familiar voice echoed—
"Here's to Artizea Pendragon—always the fighter, never the victor."
Artizea blinked in the haze of her fury, her eyes narrowing as the phantom took shape before her.
It was Eric. His smirk was just as infuriating as she remembered, and he leaned lazily against a tree, their oak tree.
"You…" she shouted out in pain. "You are dead."
"I know," He replied, feigning a dramatic bow. "Thanks to your darling brother, of course, and you."
"You betrayed me," she growled, her claws digging into the fiery ground.
Eric chuckled, "Did I?" his figure flickered as if he were made of smoke. "Or did I just show you what you truly are?" He gestured broadly, indicating her monstrous form. "Look at you now, the mighty Crown Princess, reduced to this."
"Shut up!" she roared as the ground beneath her cracked. "You are not real—"
But the figure stepped closer, unfazed by her outburst. "Face it, Artizea.They will never see you the way I did. Not your father, not your siblings…not evenhim."
The mention of Rhyssand made her flinch, "You're wrong," she whispered.
Eric sneered. "Do you honestly think he will stick around much longer? Wait around while overlooking the destruction you bring?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a cruel whisper. "I bet he's watching you burn everything you love to ash. Just like you always do. I bet he's glad you saved him the trouble of leaving you, too."
Artizea's breath hitched, the storm of emotions threatening to drown her. The flames around her flickered, wavering between rage and despair.
"Oh… he left already, hasn't he?" he said with a glint of mockery
"Leave me alone," she choked out.
"I would love to," Eric said with a sly grin. "But I am not really here. Just a figment of your lovely, fractured mind. You cannot run away from me, Crown Princess. You never could." His laughter echoed in her ears, growing louder and louder until it was drowned out by another endless sea of familiar voices swirling in a void of darkness. She felt herself falling until her feet landed on solid ground with a jarring thud. When she finally opened her eyes, she was no longer the grown woman who had faced countless trials and carried the burdens of a kingdom. She was fifteen again. Her body felt smaller, her hands softer, untouched by the years of wielding power and pain. She stood in the middle of sand. The arena instantly came into view, only it was eerily quiet. Until the memories surged back with haunting clarity. Her first Rite of Challenge. She had lost control here, leaving innocent lives shattered in their wake, and now it is happening again. The weight of that failure, the screams of those she had harmed, had haunted her ever since. The sky above was darkened, filled with storm clouds that churned like her younger self's emotions that fateful day.
"You do not belong here."
Artizea froze at the familiar sentence and the multitude of voices within it, but turned to see herself, who looked around, late twenties, her short hair now grown back to her waist. She wore the same regal armor she had donned, but her face was a mask of fury and anguish. "Do you know what you have done?" the older Artizea demanded, "Exactly what was written."
The younger Artizea shook her head, backing away. "It was an accident! I did not mean to—"
"There are no excuses!" the older Artizea roared, flames licking at the edges of her form.
The younger barely had time to react as a torrent of flame shot toward her. She dodged clumsily, her body untrained and untested. "You have brought shame to your name and pain to your kingdom." The older Artizea, circling her younger self like a predator. "You let your emotions control you," she spat.
The younger clenched her fists, tears streaming down her face. "I did not wish for this power! I did not ask for it!"
"But you have it!" The older woman countered, striking again, "There's nothing worse than a powerful fool than a fool who does not know what his power is!" With a sweep of her flaming arm."You call yourself Crown Princess…How can you hope to protect a dynasty when you cannot even protect it from yourself?"
The younger stumbled but refused to fall. She glared at her older self, a spark of defiance igniting within her. "I am not that girl anymore," she said upon straightening.
The older Artizea studied her for a moment, and the fire in her eyes dimmed.
"Prove it," she said, her voice almost a whisper.
EUEGENE
Eugene finally emerged from salvaging the damage within the palace and its garden. Now looking upon the disaster outside of it, he stood on a nearby outcropping, his knuckles white. He tried to focus, to summon. He could not communicate with Rhyssand without his book. His mind raced, desperate for a solution. It was then that he saw a small figure fluttering through the smoke.
The sparrow perched on a broken stone pillar, its feathers slightly singed but otherwise unbothered by the chaos. He instantly remembered what Rhyssand told him. A little bird told me. Eugene narrowed his eyes.
"Fin," he said, pointing at him.
"Your Highness," he announced.
"I need to deliver a message to Rhyssand—" Eugene began, before another roar rocked the valley. Eugene ducked a flying chunk of boulder that had once been part of a statue.
"For someone who claims to be the smartest human alive, you should know, all you need is a name," Fin said helpfully.
"Yes, I know that. I also know he shut down his waves, most likely so others do not see 'Help me!' flashing in bold numerals."
A smirk stretched across the bird's beak. He was being sarcastic.
Eugene groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why am I arguing with a divine bird? Of course, you know this, that is why he has you," He let out a sharp breath. "There's no time for your dramatics. Can you deliver a message or not?"
Fin puffed up proudly. "I can do many things, delivering messages just happens to be less pay in commission."
Eugene looked back to the battlefield to the towering form of his sister, the scales along her back flaring crimson, unleashing another roar; She was fighting from the inside. It was up to them to buy her time. He thought, "We cannot hold her back much longer, not without—" He paused, voice cracking slightly. "If he cares for her at all—"
Fin chirped. "Care?" He fluttered closer, voice surprisingly soft. "There's no word in your human language to describe the correct word. There is nothing he would not do for the Princess, and that is coming from me."
Eugene looked up sharply, then another earth-shaking roar came again, this one different. Like she was, she was losing the battle. "If he feels for her like I know he does…" urgency thick in his voice. He turned to Fin, voice steel. "Then tell Rhys we need him. Now… she needs him."
For once, Fin had no sassy comebacks. He gave a single, solemn nod. Then vanished into the smoky sky, his tiny form streaking toward Eugene, watched him go, the weight of their situation for once settling heavily on his shoulders.