The grass swayed as it carefully listened to the footsteps trailing past it.
"I don't see why we can't just take a gastral to fly to my father's kingdom, it'd be so much faster than traveling on these... disgusting creatures..." The prideful woman claimed, her curled brown hair swaying as she sat on the whimsical creature.
It was a two-legged bird, its gray feathers shivering under the weight of the young cleaver as its black beak snipped at the floating bugs that buzzed by, its yellow eyes never blinking. The other woman let out a soft sigh, her tolerance wearing thin as she straightened her white leather jacket, a large symbol painted in black on the back of it. Her gaze glanced at the privileged princess with a stern and focused look, a faint level of irritation under her breath.
"Well, we would, but our idiot 'knight' here lost our tickets, which we spent the last of our money on. . ." Her emphasis left a glaring hole in the young man's chest, a hint of embarrassment washing on his face. The young man chuckled faintly, trying to lighten the thin and sharp mood.
"Come on, Cynthia! It's not like I lost them on purpose. I swear someone probably stole them from my hand when I was distracted!"
"Well, thanks to your slow-minded brain, we'll be late delivering the news to the king." Cynthia frustratingly claimed, rubbing her black hair quickly, trying to brush the aggravating thought away. The privileged woman let out a loud pout, gently whipping the creature to move quicker.
"It was your idea to pick up this... pathetic excuse of a Zovian; we wouldn't be in this mess. Next time you choose to invite others on a mission I paid you to handle, make sure they're at least competent enough to know basic instructions."
Cynthia dragged her hands from her hair, scratching her face in annoyance at the princess's brash yet honest words. The young boy, however, could only smile, his grin unnaturally wide, his eyes staring hollowly in front of him as his gaze trailed towards the princess.
"Geez, if you're gonna talk about me, at least have the decency to not say it in my face. Have your kin taught you no manners? I would presume so, considering how foul your mouth has been."
The princess snapped her head back towards the young soldier, looking at him with a shocked gaze.
"How dare you speak to me in such a disdainful tone? I could have you beheaded for your insolent character! Who do you think you are to speak so much in such a manner?" Her voice roared with angry fury.
With a declaratory tone, mixed with eagerness and pride, the young man struck a staggering pose, allowing his overly large black and blue shirt to flow in the wind along with his flaring black hair.
"I am Varron of the Zovians! I was born in the cradle of the first meteor to strike the world, and the bearer of all martial arts!" He ever so confidently claimed, his smirk growing wide without fail. The princess's gaze silently lowered, a spiteful smirk forming on her tanned face.
"Aren't most Vovians born with wings? Don't tell me you lost those two on the way here!" She mocked so openly. Varron's confident form suddenly faltered, his gaze opening wide for a moment, before mellowing down, as he pulled his shirt over his mouth, looking down at the firm ground.
"That's more like it, pouting like the swindler you are~ ''bearer of all martial arts'', more like the peasant among klutz." A royal cackle escaped her tone, the dead silence surrounding her laugh quickly making it die out. Cynthia turned around to face the pouting young boy, walking backwards at a steady pace as she kept her hands in her jacket's pockets. With a heavy sigh, she spoke, her tone consoling.
"If it makes you feel better, I'd like to see you in action. Even seeing you fly must be kinda cool, right?"
Varron's gaze raised to meet hers, hints of blush peaking out from his cheeks as they quickly glanced away, muttering softly in his shirt. Though there was doubt in his tone, a bit of hope was there.
"Yeah, maybe. But I wouldn't get your hopes up, sweetheart."
BOOM! In the distance, smoke and ash mixed with the air, a clear sign of danger steadily rising from the larger tower in the distance—the sounds of people screaming and yelling aloud, followed by a sudden blast coming from within the town. Cynthia's hands steadily went into her hair, a warm, shining blue glow coming from the overlapping threads of her thick yet smooth hair. As she gently pulled her hand out from her hair, two kusarigamas appeared, her grip on their handles firm as their blades glistened under the sun's light.
"It looks like my hopes came true," She mumbled.
With another whip of the bird, it ran towards the smoke, Cynthia and Varron running in pursuit, their footsteps dashing through the thin grass. As they made their way towards the gated entrance, pieces of the steel guard had crumbled under the now collapsed entrance. However, at the top of the castle walls, a single figure stood, looking down at the chaos within the town, their back facing the poor developed group.
"Sneak attack him?" Varron eagerly suggested, already cracking his knuckles. Cynthia turned her head to glance at Varron, a knowing smirk appearing on her face.
"Yup. . . A good ol fashioned sneak attack!"