Alwyn

A soft sunset lit the horizon, pastel hues brushed across the sky. Off the ocean drifted a cool salty breeze that beat away the day's heat. On the docks the murmur of voices and jingling of carriage harnesses floated through the air, a welcoming sound.

Alwyn hated all of it.

Most of all she hated the three guards standing on her ship.

"We have orders to search your ship," the leader of the trio said.

Alwyn balled her fists, glaring at the guard.

"Why?" she bite out. "What crime are we charged with?"

Alwyn could imagine a dozen things Tor could have said to get guards interested in search the ship. She'd landed enough painful blows to him that he would want to fight back. She could hear Cyrus's voice, saying that this was her fault for being so rash.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard," the guard said. "The palace was attacked last night, almost all of the royal family were killed. Prince Corwin barely lives. We are searching for the assassins."

The news struck Alwyn in the chest, despite already being aware of the fact. The day had been filled with rumors of what happened. She'd seen for herself the burning remains of the Eldin Prince ship. She'd watched petrified as townspeople had doused the fire and pulled off the charred remains of bodies. Even though she'd wanted to know for certain, she couldn't make her feet move closer to inspect the dead.

"And the visiting prince?" Cyrus asked, his voice low.

"Dead."

Alwyn couldn't breathe. She felt like brittle metal, ready to snap. She knew if she stayed near this unfeeling guard any longer she'd most likely break and cut him.

"Do what you must," she said, and turned on her heel.

She crossed the ship and leaned against the deck railing, staring out on the rippling ocean. Behind her, she heard the trump of boots as the trio of guards dispersed to search the ship. She locked her fingers together, squeezing them, trying to hold herself together. In that moment she felt torn between wanting to scream, cry, and hit something.

When Cyrus took the spot beside her, she swore if he tried to say something comforting she would break his nose.

But he knew her, he was the better half and so he said nothing at all.

Alwyn let out a slow breath.

Cyrus gripped her shoulder.

She closed her eyes.

The sea splashed against the side of the ship, a constant melody in her ears. When she opened her eyes, she stared down at the faint white scar at the base of her thumb. She traced her finger over it.

A memory came that felt sharp as day and cut Alwyn just as deep. 

The day had been crystal blue and perfect. Alwyn cut passed Prince Zavier's guard and stabbing him in the ribs with her wooden sword. Zavier winced and stumbling back as Alwyn grinned at him. Both in their thirteen year, they matched in height, where Zavier had strength on his side, Alwyn had agility. When Alwyn stuck again, Zavier managed to parry the blow, but barely.

"For a prince said to know how to handle a sword, you are terrible," Alwyn said, darting in and landing a hit to Zavier's side.

"That is because most of my day is spent inside the palace, studying boring politics."

Zavier lunged forward, almost getting under Alwyn's defense but she twisted away, his sword slicing through air.

"No one could make me stay in doors," she said.

The ship rocked beneath her feet and she moved with the sway, at home on the ever moving land.

"You would have to if you were a princess," Zavier said.

"And I will never be one."

Alwyn charged, filling the air with the clacking of wood against wood as she forced Zavier back, until he bumped into the main mast. Alwyn knocked away his sword and held hers to his neck.

"Even if someone asked you to be their princess?" Zavier asked, his dark eyes locked on hers.

Alwyn felt her heart beat wildly in her chest and she blamed it on the thrill of beating an opponent.

"Never," she whispered.

The tromping of boots sounded behind Alwyn but she didn't turn around, the memory retreating. Cyrus did, always the level-headed one. More so than ever that day.

"Are you finished?" Cyrus asked.

"We are," the head guard said. "By order of the crown, you are not to leave the port."

At this, Alwyn faced the trio, her emotions solidifying into fury. "Why not?"

She stormed towards the guard, but he didn't even blink.

"To assure that the assassins do not escape, no ships are to leave," he said, evenly. "To do so will be an act of defiance against the crown."

Unable to leave, to flee from this place she never should have come to. Trapped with the sight of the palace always looking down at her. To feel the ghosts that now walked the city streets. Before Alwyn even processed the consequences, she swung at the guard.

But Cyrus reacted faster, catching her wrist. The deck dropped away as her twin tossed her over his shoulder.

"We hope you can find the assassins," Cyrus said calmly and walked away, carrying Alwyn.

She struggled in his hold, but where she was slender, Cyrus was broad.

"Put me down!" she yelled, kicking her legs, feeling her face burn with anger and humiliation.

When they entered their captain's quarters, Cyrus dropped Alwyn to the floor. She managed to catch herself and leapt to her feet, fists curled. She glared at Cyrus who held her gaze with unfailing control.

She didn't care if they were related, she planned to break that perfect nose of his. She wouldn't feel at all bad when it ruined his features. The crack of bone would sound satisfying. She hated him. Hated this place. Hated everything.

Cyrus hugged Alwyn. She fought against his comfort, against his steady hold. When he didn't let go, Alwyn gave up. She clung to him, hiding her face in his shoulder. Finally, the storm inside her broke free.

"I hate him," she choked out. "Only a fool like him would get himself killed."

Cyrus didn't say anything, instead he let Alwyn soak his shirt. Which she did as she relived every good and bad memory. Every hurtful word she could never take back. Every glance she could never experience again.

When Alwyn felt drained of everything, she broke away. She drifted to the room's strip of windows.

"We can't stay here," she said. "I don't care about the consequences, we have to leave."

"How do you plan to do that when we only have four people to man a twelve person ship."

"Sparrow counts for three at least."

Cyrus said nothing and Alwyn knew he had a point. They weren't leaving. She stared out on the glistening water, wishing the ship would break from the pier and let the tide sweep them out to sea. Even if they wouldn't last long at least they would be free of this place.

A quick knock sounded on the cabin door.

"Enter," Cyrus said.

Alwyn didn't turn around, knowing it could only be one person. Sparrow wouldn't knock, but their new recruit, Simon, would. She wondered what news he'd be bringing, nothing they didn't already know from the guards.

"Zavier?" Cyrus whispered.

Alwyn froze and her heart stopped beating. She spun around and felt the breath knocked from her lungs. Zavier stood just inside the cabin, looking common in plain clothes and his hair made wild by the wind. His jaw was marred by stubble and she knew how rough and familiar it would feel if she brushed her hand along it. But she didn't move, didn't close the distance between them.

Cyrus darted across to Zavier, grabbing his shoulders, laughing.

"You knave," Cyrus said.

The two friends embraced. When Zavier looked to Alwyn, his eyes glinted with a teasing light. Eyes that held flecks of gold in them. Eyes she knew to be playful one second and serious the next.

"You were dead," she said.

Zavier grinned at her, the same roguish grin she knew so well.

"Were you sorry you were not the one to finish me?" he asked.

Alwyn clutched the edge of the desk before her, digging her fingers into the wood. She needed the barrier between them because right then she didn't know if she wanted kiss him or punch him. She hated him for dying and hated him even more for being alive.

Zavier let go of his smile when Alwyn didn't answer and didn't welcome him like Cyrus.

"Wyn," he murmured.

"What are you doing here?" she said, his gentle tone and her nickname reminding her of their last encounter. Which ignited her previous anger.

"We need your help," Zavier said.

At his words, Alwyn finally took notice of the two other companions that had entered the cabin with Zavier. Two boys, though the taller one appeared to be a soldier with a commanding stance and an impressive arsenal of weapons.

And the shorter boy wasn't a boy at all. Despite the masculine attire and chopped hair, Alwyn could see a delicacy in the face and hands that betrayed the true gender, a girl disguised as a boy. She noted how the soldier stood a breath in front of the girl, always ready to protect her.

"This is Wilder and Princess Lydia," Zavier said.

Alwyn snapped her eyes to Zavier, narrowing them. She knew exactly who this princess was. Who she was to Zavier. She was Zavier's princess, his bride to be. His betrothed. Now she really hated him.

Cyrus bowed his head towards Lydia.

"You have my condolences, your Highness," he said.

Alwyn didn't offer the same sentiment and had to restrain herself from throwing the ink well at Cyrus.

"How can we help you?" Cyrus asked.

"We need passage out of the West Isles, to Loria," Wilder said.

As Cyrus began to dip his head in acceptance, but Alwyn cut him off.

"No," she said. "If you haven't heard already, no one is to leave port."

Cyrus shot her a look, which she ignored and Zavier took a step closer.

"Rules have never applied to you before," he said.

They did when it worked in her favor, which right then they did. Alwyn didn't want to bear through a voyage with a man she loathed right then and his doe-eyed princess.

"I don't see why you're here?" she said. "As royals surely you can get assistance from the palace and prince Corwin."

Lydia swallowed and took hold of Wilder's shirt sleeve as if she needed something to help her remain standing. Grief clouded her eyes, but Alwyn was too stubborn to let it soften her.

"Prince Corwin is dead," Wilder said, softly, looking to Lydia. "The rumor of his survival is false. That is why we need your help."

Alwyn curled her fists. Beside her, she could feel Cyrus's thoughts yelling at her to put away her petty grievances. But it felt impossible.

For less than a day she'd felt like a ship locked in a tempest, thrown about, unable to find the eye of the storm. Knowing Zavier was dead, killed her. Knowing he was alive and with his future bride, killed her in another way.

Though Cyrus could have spoken, told them that they would be given passage, he remained silent. He knew her like no one else, knew the pain she'd face after her last encounter with Zavier. He was on her side.

"You will have to find it somewhere else. Even if we wanted to help you, we don't have a crew. Besides, we aren't getting in the middle of a political war," Alwyn said. "I don't care that now you are the queen."

The title seemed to strike Lydia. She sucked in a breath and stumbled back. She dashed out of the cabin, her footsteps pounding down the passageway. Wilder tried to sear Alwyn with his gaze.

"You are heartless," he growled, racing after Lydia.

If only. If she were heartless it would make the third presence in the cabin tolerable. It would mean the past few months hadn't been the most painful of her life. It would mean she could look at Zavier without feeling anything at all instead of the chaos inside her.

A tense quiet invaded the room. Zavier let out a breath and dragged his hand through his black curls.

"Cyrus," he said. "Can you give me a minute alone with Alwyn?"

Alwyn didn't speak, but she wanted to scream for Cyrus to stay. She didn't know what she would do if left alone with Zavier. She couldn't trust him. And more than that she couldn't trust herself and her traitorous heart.

"No," Cyrus said. "For your own safety."

Zavier studied Alwyn. She didn't know what he saw in her expression but he nodded to the wisdom.

"Very well," he said. "But Cyrus, you have to understand that we need your help. A kingdom is at stake here. Lydia is the last royal of the West Isles. To ensure that she doesn't face the same fate as her family, she needs protection, she needs to get away from here."

"I do understand," Cyrus said. "We wished to leave as well, planned to even."

Zavier glared at Alwyn. "Then why are you stubbornly refusing to help us?"

Alwyn crossed her arms, staring him down. He knew the reason, he simply refused to voice it. Too cowardly.

"We don't have a crew," Cyrus said. "Alwyn wasn't lying about that."

"What happened to them?" Zavier asked.

Though Cyrus didn't glance at Alwyn, Zavier understood. The edge of his lip curled.

"Scare them away?" he asked.

"Get out!" Alwyn said, pointing to the door.

Repentant, Zavier raised his hands. "My apologies. But there has to be a way we could find a few sailors willing to leaving the West Isles."

"Your royal guard might be able to help," Cyrus said.

Sorrow flashed through Zavier's face and he turned his head away.

"They sacrificed themselves...for me. Only Joric is left."

Alwyn hated how she wanted to reach out for him, to wrap her arms around him, to comfort him. His guard had been his crew. Right then she could see how his teasing had been a facade to conceal his pain. Like how her desire to fight something hid hers.

Cyrus locked eyes with Alwyn and she knew what she had to do.

"We could possibly make it work if Wilder is willing to help," Alwyn said, quietly.

"Thank you," Zavier said, dipping his head, though his countenance still betrayed his loss.

"We need supplies," Cyrus said. "And we will have to leave under the cover of darkness."

"I have money," Zavier said.

"We need to hurry, there isn't much daylight left."

Cyrus left the cabin and Alwyn followed after him, grateful for a task. But as she passed Zavier, he put a hand on her arm. She tensed, not daring to look at him. He stood so close to her she could smell the city clinging to his clothes.

"Wyn," he said. "I'm sorry."

Finally, she met his eyes.

"You said that once before," she said. "And it didn't change anything."

Zavier shifted closer, but Alwyn broke from his grasp and hurried up to the deck, needing to breath fresh air. Needing the salty tang of the sea to clear her head.

But as she ascended the stairs, she paused.

Standing on deck with four familiar sailors was Sparrow.

The Lorian man in his mid-thirties winked at Alwyn and gestured to her former crew members.

"I couldn't convince all of them you were worth giving another chance, only these ones," he said.

Cyrus looked from the crew members, to Alwyn to Zavier as he appeared from below decks.

"It looks like we might be able to make it out of the West Isles after all."

**********************************************************************

"My friends need to be punished."

(Lilo and Stitch. A family favorite of ours. Also kind of what Alwyn is thinking.)

There you have it! The gang is all together!! What do you think? 🧜🏽‍♀️⚔️🛡

Honestly, I'm surprised Zavier wasn't murdered on the spot, but since he did just come back from the dead I guess it would be too soon for him to die again.

I'm not gonna lie, Alwyn is unlike any character I've written before. She's so explosive and emotional it's really interesting to write her. I lean more towards the detached type of character because I find them fascinating but Alwyn is definitely fun!

I love Cyrus, he is the counter balance Alwyn really needs in her life.

Question for you reader: What type of female character do you like the most?

Reader question from _singforjoy_: What's one book that you just don't get all the hype about? Like a book that you don't like that most people do.

مصنف کا جواب (Urdu)
You might not like me for this but here goes, I don't like the Court of Rose and Thorns series as well as the Shatter Me series.

In both series the main girl breaks up with the kind, loving guy she was with in the first and gets together with the secondary guy who abused or mistreated her in the first book. To me this idolizes a toxic relationship and that in my mind isn't something to find romantic in the least.

On top of that both books are said to be Teen Fiction but contain very vivid sexual content and I don't think that they should have been marked as Teen Fiction and it kinda pisses me off that they are.

If it's not clear, as a friend I DO NOT recommend either of their series.

There you have it, go ahead and comment and I'll discuss this answer with you if you like.

Vote, comment, follow!