madame moiselle
❁ listening to lullabies ❁
Isaac Robinson of Tykanos
The Free Hawks burst into the bloody scene, and Isaac felt a twist of disgust and horror as he watched guards killing rogue rebels, and the rebels themselves killing the citizens. Bodies lay on the ground lifeless, and the sounds of swords clashing, blood spurting and cries echoing haunted the atmosphere. Isaac pushed those sentiments down; he had a mission to accomplish. Isaac noticed an unfamiliar rebel beating a guard, and Isaac realized these must be other rebels from other groups around Lunaris. Isaac knew they were all fighting for the same reasons, but most certainly had different methods of reaching those same goals.
Isaac searched the frenzied crows of hundreds, for the princesses as he prepared his weapon, the bow and arrow. With his sharp blue eyes, Isaac caught the sight of both of them, next to each other. It wasn't surprising that both had ruined their sophisticated looks. Isaac took a glance around the frenzy, spotting a few other Free Hawks nearing the princesses, like predator does with prey. Isaac turned to Lawrence, his gaze firm. "Go back to the gates, Lawrence, and make sure the rest of the group is there, waiting. I think we can handle this." Lawrence nodded grimly and left, leaving Isaac to melt into the crowd of panicked people, and weaving through, until a guard spotted him. Before the guard could make a move, however, Isaac had already planted an arrow right in his chest. One more guard rushed at him before Isaac shot him in the shoulder, before Isaac glanced back at the King, who was huddled next to his Queen, as the guards around him protected from enraged rogue rebels. Isaac turned back to the princesses, lacing his bow against his back, and rushing towards them.
Isaac looked around, painfully realizing the rest of his crew were occupied with their own battles. Isaac realized yet again, that he had to do this alone. Was this really a one-man job? But Isaac couldn't turn back now. Besides, these were girls. Princesses. Ladies. Taught etiquette, not battle. The worst they've probably done was slap a detestable suitor.
The nearest to him was Cynthia. Isaac got ready, taking out an arrow, and pounced on her. He pushed Bramble, very roughly, so hard that the force was powerful enough to send her skidding to the ground, while his arm wrapped around Cynthia's corseted waist, while his sharp-tipped arrow pressed against her smooth neck.
"Don't make a move," he murmured as harshly as he could.
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