The stroke of midnight (Pt.2 of Lost and Found)

The grand doors of the Great Hall creaked open, a weak light shining on hastily dressed nobles as the messenger limped in.

"My lord," He croaked, clattering to his knees before the king. He pressed dusty lips to the king's hand.

Leda rolled her eyes. Months embroiled in a war, and they still insisted on these nonsensical pleasantries.

"What news do you bring from the front?" The king asked, straightening on the throne. The murmuring room silenced, everyone eager to hear something hopeful.

"My lord, our dead continue to rise, with a final toll of..." The messenger consulted a parchment. "321 dead in the past month alone."

There was a sudden bubble of outrage and despair, and a courtier shouted something angry.

Leda's stepmother clutched her fussing toddler closer, no doubt remembering how her own father was executed by his people.

"In other news," The messenger went on, voice shaky. "Our supply routes are frequently hijacked and our soldiers starve-"

"Our people starve!" A courtier shouted, and a chorus of agreement followed.

"Silence!" The king snapped, and a sullen quiet descended upon the room. He glared at the messenger, prompting him again.

"-the mercenary reinforcements have dwindled as well, and are demanding additional payment for their losses. The villages of Caritown, Feist, and Sonneburg have been lost. Ginly continues to resist behind armoured walls."

Despite her hatred of her father's regime, Leda winced at that. She'd visited those picturesque, lively villages. War was never kind to such places.

"Ginly?" Her stepmother repeated, turning to her husband. "That's where half our metalwork takes place. We need to secure Ginly, or trade with other-" She trailed off under the King's cold look.

The second Queen's many failed attempts to impress her husband were embarrassing for Leda to watch, but she felt for her stepmother, squeezing her hand out of sight.

"What other news?" The King asked tiredly.

"Disease has begun to seep into the ranks, and General Kaze requests healers to the frontlines. And..." The messenger swallowed then. "Your majesty-"

"Get to the point." The king ordered.

"General Kaze survived an encounter with our enemy's leader."

Leda raised her eyebrows, surprised. General Kaze was feared, scarred, and the strongest of soldiers.

"Does he have a description?" The king demanded, leaning forward in his seat.

"Majesty," The messenger took a deep breath. "The girl leading the wolves, soldiers and fairies to murder and butcher our troops, General Kaze says she looks...well she looks like you sire."

The silence that swept through the room was the absence of breathing even. It ruptured when the king inhaled sharply, and turned his furious eyes on Leda.

"Looks like him?" The Queen looked bewildered, jostling the child on her leg. "Well if she has brown hair and brown eyes I expect she looks like a lot of people."

"My queen, General Kaze says in the letter that he spent twenty years fighting by the side of our king, and he insists that the girl he fought was a child of our sire's." The messenger shook, whether with exhaustion or terror, Leda wasn't sure.

Her own hands were shaking. Maybe...maybe her little sister survived. And took her revenge on all of them after all.

"Out. Everyone, out." The king ordered, and soldiers herded the arguing and angry courtiers out. The messenger bowed low and left as well.

"I don't understand," Her stepmother frowned, staring with wide eyes at Leda.

Leda stayed quiet, watching every move her father made. He was breathing furiously, his eyes narrowed. Any second now, the violence he concealed from his delicate second wife would erupt.

"What's happening?" Her stepmother asked again.

"Shut up!" Her father slammed a hand down on his throne, and the queen yelped, her third child bursting into noisy tears.

"Get him out. Go!" Her father snapped at the queen, and she got up hurriedly, casting one final, worried look at Leda as she left.

"Father-" Leda started, taking an automatic step back.

"I will hang your tutor, don't you dare lie to me." Her father seethed, standing up now.

Leda clenched her jaw, terrified. "Father, I-we-we left her. In the woods, I told you, she died-"

"Guards!" Her father shouted and Leda cried out. "No!"

"No, please," Leda swallowed heavily. "Martin doesn't know anything-"

"Guards!"

This time, armoured men came in through the door.

"Okay, I'll tell you!" Leda yelled, and her father dismissed them with a wave.

Leda glared back at him, feeling the venomous surge of hatred that thrummed in her veins at the mere sight of him. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you-

"I took the child into the forest. I called upon the wolves, and they took her." Leda said stonily, grateful that the mewling baby was now a murderous fighter. Hopefully, her little sister would murder their father.

Her father unsheathed the sword at his waist. Leda held her breath. It was a ceremonial sword, but she'd seen him behead a cupbearer for spilling wine once.

"You freak," Her father hissed, advancing with the sword raised.

Leda stumbled off the podium, and felt the cold stone of the wall behind her. "Father-"

"They told me I should've gotten rid of you." Her father kept getting closer, and Leda saw her reflection in his sword. "How do you keep making my life miserable?"

The sword's blade misted over with her breathing.

She dug her nails into the wall, closing her eyes. There was a sharp sting as the sword glanced off her cheek.

Then it was gone. Leda opened her eyes, freeing the tears behind them.

"If you ever, ever help my enemies again, you ungrateful, illegitimate halfbreed, I will kill you."

"I didn't know she'd become-"

"But you hoped she would."

"Yes, I did," Leda replied viciously. "I hoped she'd get older, and stronger and make you pay." She clenched her jaw and waited for her father to kill her, or strike her.

He had more than enough heirs now, and no reason to keep her around.

Her father, oddly, looked pleased. "Well, she's strong now. I wonder if she's strong enough to sacrifice you."

Leda barely had time to feel confused, dragged along by her father's hand.

She clawed at his iron grip, feeling bruises forming on her wrist.

He pulled her, unrelenting, past servants and soldiers. People leapt out of the way, as Leda thrashed and kicked.

"Summon the messenger!" Her father ordered, and a servant practically tripped over himself to get him.

"Leda?" Martin asked, the new lines on his face deepening warily.

"Leave!" She ordered, and after a moment's hesitation, he vanished into the crowd.

Mercifully, her father's attention was not on her beloved tutor.

"Sire," The messenger took a knee before him, his eyes narrowing at Leda.

She tried to rip her hand away again, unsuccessfully.

"Send a message to the front, to our enemy." The king gave a disgusted look to Leda. "Our enemy can either surrender, or I execute her half-sister, the one that saved her life. She has three days to respond. Leave."

The messenger nodded and ran off, slipping a note into his pocket.

Leda stilled, contemplating it. Her sister was raised by ruthless, pragmatic wolves. She'd been a baby.

Her father threw Leda towards some guards. "Take her to the dungeons."

"She won't surrender for me." Leda declared, struggling against the guards. "You'll lose."

Her father leaned towards her. "At least it'll give me a reason to be finished with you."

"I hope she kills you, and feeds your body to her wolves!" Leda screamed as the guards dragged her away. "I hope you regret condemning her to death for every second that you live!"

Leda winced as she landed in the cell, brushing off the dirty straw from the floor.

She'd never been in the dungeons before, and they stank. Of violence and desperation, a fitting scent for a tyrant's castle.

Leda kicked the hay around, wondering what her sister would feel. She'd never managed to find her again, no matter how much she searched, or what she sacrificed.

All these years...I thought she was dead. Leda did smile, wondering what her sister looked like now. Did she still have her tiny nose?

There was a slight ringing sound, and Leda glanced up, confused. Bells in a dungeon?

A small pixie snuck in through the grate in the flower, shuddering as she wiped off the grime. "Well met, cousin Leda," The pixie said shyly to Leda, curtsying midair. "Does your face hurt?"

Leda blinked at her, intrigued. "Hello? We're cousins?" She touched the bloody line on her face.

"All pixies and fairies are cousins," The pixie laughed, and Leda glanced at the bars, hoping no one heard her ridiculously high voice.

"I was sent by your sister," The pixie giggled, whispering conspiratorially.

"I figured." Leda nodded. "Listen, you'll be faster than the messenger, tell her I'm being kept hostage, but not to surrender. I'm not worth all that. If you can, also tell her that a wizard named Martin must be forgiven once the war ends."

The pixie nodded, frowning. Right as the pixie opened her mouth, Leda spoke again.

"Well go, you're tiny, the wind blows east and it's at least a day's flight. Go on." Leda shook her hands forward. "And tell her I missed her, and love her, since I probably won't get to."

"It's a day's flight?" The pixie questioned.

Leda frowned. Apparently, the stereotype about pixies being stupid was true. "You flew here, you should know this."

The pixie grinned deviously. "I flew here from the forest, cousin. Your sister is right outside the castle, here to free you."

"Oh." Leda sat back. "She...came here for me." Nobody had ever done that before.

"At midnight, cousin. You shall be free." The pixie grinned, and Leda caught her before she slipped back in through the grate.

"What's she like?" Leda asked, gently smudging off some more grime from the pixie.

The pixie wiggled out of her grip. "Like you. But not like you," Then she swooped into the grate.

Midnight, then.