Chapter 117: CALL OF DUTY

Prince Tristan had spent his day in the company of Lady Blossom, as they had to put on quite a good show for the prying eyes that hovered about them.

They sure did put on a show for them, depicting a couple that was actually trying to get along, despite their differences, and past love interests.

Still, the servants and attendants at the palace seemed displeased at how quickly the Prince had seemed to move on from Olexa. It made some of them wonder if he actually ever loved her.

He heard the whispers, but waved them aside, despite how hurtful they were, questioning and doubting his love for her. But he didn't confront them, knowing he just had to continue with the act, hopefully not for too long.

Later that night, he got ready to sneak out of the palace as he got word late that evening that Roweena and the delegated members of The Rebellion had returned from their escapade.

He wore his usual disguise and headed out of his room, having ascertained from Jon the coast was clear. As he was about to leave, he heard someone calling him, startling him to his core.

He quickly turned to see who it was and found that it was Blossom.

"Prince Tristan?" she furrowed her brow. "Is that-"

"Shh! Quiet," he whispered, putting his finger across his mouth vertically, as he walked to her quickly, pulling her away from where she was.

"Why are you wearing this?" she questioned.

"Well, I should be asking you the same thing," he responded, looking at her manner of dressing. It sure didn't look like a night robe befitting of royalty.

"Well, I- I, was trying to find my way around," she replied looking away, as she rolled her eyes.

"Mm-hmm," Prince Tristan pursed his lips, nodding.

"Well, what are you doing out here dressed like this, and on edge when I called to you?" Blossom reversed the roles.

"I had somewhere to be," he replied simply.

"Somewhere? Where is that?" she asked. "No, ignore that. You're leaving the palace walking on both feet, which means you have a secret way out!"

Blossom's eyes beamed with hope. "Where is it? Show me. No, take me with you."

"Unfortunately, not today Blossom. I'm in a hurry, and you'd just slow me down. So perhaps some other time, in the nearest future," he replied.

"Come on? Show me," Blossom pressed, pouting her lips as she made puppy dog eyes at him.

"Not today Blossom. Not today," he said, standing his ground.

"Okay. But I'll hold you to this," she finally gave in.

"Sure," he replied, and hurried away, leaving her in the company of Jon, who kept watch at the prince's door, as always.

The Prince made his way sneaking out into the city, making his way to their usual meeting spot; the Juror's residence.

He got there and requested entry, using the normal coded knock. The door was unlocked almost immediately he was done knocking. It was as though someone eagerly awaited him.

"Your Majesty," the men bowed, greeting.

"Hello everyone," he replied as he took his seat.

"I don't know if I say congratulations, or-"

"Don't!" Prince Tristan interrupted. The Juror nodded in affirmation.

"So, your message seemed urgent. What is the matter?" he asked. As the Juror was about to answer, he quickly chipped in, interrupting him.

"Where is Roweena anyway?" the Prince enquired, as he had noticed she wasn't there with them.

"Roweena said she had to leave us, your Majesty, even before we got here," Cal answered.

"Why?" the Prince asked, furrowing his brow.

"I guess she was overwhelmed by all that she witnessed," the Juror responded.

"Because of all that she witnessed?" he looked at the men, now also curious to know.

"What is it that you all saw?" Prince Tristan enquired.

The Juror looked at Cal and sighed.

"Well, the General led a couple of soldiers, probably over a thousand soldiers, to the wastelands, and launched an attack on a place I never thought existed, in reality," the Juror reported.

"A place, in the wastelands? Were the folks there deserters or something?" Prince Tristan asked.

"I don't think so, your Majesty. The place is a thriving community, right there in the wastelands. But is magically hidden from the naked eye from the outside, and barricading from intruders or passersby," the Juror explained.

"I thought that place was all a myth. I didn't think it was real," Prince Tristan commented.

"Me neither your Majesty. But it's real. That's why they needed the witch, Ruela, to take down the barrier. Only she had the power to take down such a magically formidable barrier," the Juror replied.

Prince Tristan sighed. "Roweena must have seen her sister be part of such evil and lost it."

The Juror nodded, having a disgusted look.

"They laid waste to the place, and took some of them captives," Cal added.

"Where were they taken to?" Prince Tristan asked. "Let me guess, the Mountain of Bones right?"

"Yes your Majesty," Cal answered.

Prince Tristan leaned into the chair he sat on, and pondered for a bit.

"I think we should help them."

The Juror and the other men looked at the Prince, a bit amazed at what they heard.

"I strongly believe we should offer our help to them. Those poor folks will die needless deaths, or even worse, mutated," the Prince expounded.

"But how do we get in your Majesty?" the Juror asked.

"Even if we do get in, we don't know what's behind those walls. There could be dozens of those creatures. Hundreds, or even more, your Majesty," one of the men fearfully analyzed.

"We have Roweena don't we? I believe it's her sister who cast the spell keeping whatever in there sealed, and we who are outside from getting in," the Prince answered the Juror.

"And we don't know for sure if there are a thousand of those creatures or less. But what I do know is, we owe it to ourselves, to do something about it, quickly. We've stalled for long, and I think it's time to take the fight to them," Prince Tristan answered the other man.

"So, what say we, hmm? Are we going to sit still waiting for the most convenient time to take action, while they make progress with their evil plans? Or are we going to do something about our future?" Prince Tristan asked.

"Because I for one am so friggin' tired of sitting in the wheelchair, pretending, all day, looking at the faces of my father's killers every day, when I can rip out their throats!"

The men looked at Prince Tristan, seeing him swell with rage.

"We'll move at your command, your Majesty. That's why we are The Rebellion." The Juror stood up.

"We are with you your Majesty," Cal said also, standing to his feet. The rest of the men stood up as well, fully motivated.

Prince Tristan sighed in relief.

"Well then, let's do what we're known for, rebelling," Prince said, smiling.