She had escaped.

The darkness absorbed our shadows, as I walked in with the soldiers, into the enormous construction that only allowed two windows stretching to the whole length of the building vertically.

"How did this happen? We've never had a case of an escape in our entire history of criminal protection and now we get to bear the proud mark of a female leading that to ruins?!" The soldiers were scattered everywhere, screaming at each other in anger and frustration, and firing the "you know it was your fault" insults at each other.

"Ahem. I suggest everyone stop speaking immediately before I cut off your tongues on the training grounds with my own sword." My mother, only slightly shorter than my tall frame that stretched to six feet and an inch, stood there with seething rage, visibly shrinking the confidence of every soldier and prison guard there.

I chose to walk through the passage that had been enveloped with sudden silence, every guard appearing like a stone statue with a perfect masquerade of bravery.

As I passed every prison cell, I swiftly avoided the curious gazes of the criminals dressed in nothing but a long mustard cloth, only sparing the visibility of their hands and feet. They openly probed the appearance of their new visitor, some smiling in a way that could only be considered a symbol of mockery and others that just scoffed and turned away.

The only difference in the pattern was the one empty cell, permeated with the still present scent of the alluring dancer.

It was airy and cool, almost bringing in the feeling of the sea's waves crashing against the rocks, fighting against the repugnant aromas in the cell trying to seal itself over its original purity.

I carefully opened the creaky gates, stepping inside with utmost concentration.

That's when I saw it.

"The stains are there to stay."

Water. She had written the message with the one glass of water the prisoners are supplied with every day, the letters elegantly dripping down and prancing their way across the dirty and ironically sunless mustard walls.

It was fresh. She hadn't escaped too long ago.

The guards stood behind me, their posture indicating their incomplete befuddlement as they were yet to have any answers as to how this had occurred.

The first female to be prisoned. The same had escaped.

It should take its place in history but I was sure that once the news had reached my father's ears, it would be already buried even before the assisting dirt could acknowledge its entrance.

"What sort of child's play is this? Not only does she break out from the palace, but leaves an 'eerie little message' in her wake? Who exactly does this female think she is?" The guards a few feet behind me were anxiously whispering to each other, gesturing to the watermarks.

"I would say she is significantly in more worth than you could ever be, for she has outsmarted every guard pathetically filling this construction and not even raise anyone's suspicious while she wrote this." I glowered at the guards, making them scramble into their previous positions, looking away into the other cells.

"Stay calm, Elijah. These are the times where you have the opportunity to prove your patience and intellect to those that doubt you. Remember what I said."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"I order every guard in my near proximity to immediately inspect every border of our lands. Multiply the number of guards surveying the margins of every village under our protection, and I want a thorough report on any suspicious roaming with the timings, even if it is someone that deems themselves a visitor of our kingdom. Spare no one."

One of the guards came forward nervously and spoke his next words that could have been his last, had I been in a blood-thirsty mood. "But, your majesty, we've already handed in our final report for the day to the King and-"

"Did that report entail the escape of a female prisoner as you yourself put it earlier on, Vladimir?" I knew the bastard's name, as I took it upon myself to learn the background of every soldier and guard to ensure the ease of direct communication.

"N-no, your majesty."

"When you do remember to mention it, will you proudly put forward to the King that it was you who was guarding the lady's cell when the escape occurred?"

"Your majesty, it truly wasn't in my error. There was a lot of hassle in the stables, and help was urgently required-"

"That was very thoughtful of you, Vladimir. Rogan? Come forward."

"Y-yes, your majesty?"

"The very horse that Vladimir wanted to assist with during the hours of his duty, that he should have assigned someone else to, might actually require his much-appreciated aid after all. I want Vladimir's feet tied to the hooves of the horse for the whole day tomorrow. I believe both beings are long due for their exercise. Train them together."

The last thing I heard before I turned to continue my inspection was Vladimir's cacophony of disapproving horror.

The rest of the soldiers sprinted towards the exit and to the other blocks of cells, leaving my mother and I alone in the damaged area.

"I have a feeling that you may be right, Elijah. This isn't just an accidental attack spurred by mere emotions. This is an announcement. An act of war."

I quietly traced the watermarks, not responding to my mother, reading the dripping words again.

"The stains are there to stay."

I knew what she had meant.

She had meant the blood on my sheets that she left in her wake. The stains. Her stains of blood.

It might not be hers the next time.

She had openly stated that here.

I kneeled down, watching the water taking its own time to seep along the murky edges of the wall, not succeeding in washing away the dirt with its droplets.

But it still covered the dirt. It was still powerful, regardless.

I wouldn't have noticed the colour if I hadn't seen the dirt accompanying it.

Sprinkles of gold and red.

Tiny, miniscule sprinkles of gold and red colours that only covered a few centimeters of the floor, along the watermarks.

I touched it with my forefinger, bringing it up to my nose, to catch the scent.

It didn't carry the dancer's scent. I was sure of that. It smelled like the powder that is used to decorate the entrance to the doorway of the village houses on the west side. Most town females there were seen using it.

Suddenly, a guard came rushing into the area, panting.

"Commander, your majesty, there's been movement on the west side of the lands minutes before the prisoner's escape was reported. The timings of the disturbance at the stables and the suspicious movement, well, they, unfortunately, seem to match."

I smiled and glanced back at the powder sitting on my finger.

I realised that I had made a mistake that night. I should have asked a different question.

"Who's the one making you dance, hayati?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Has it hit the fan?
If any of you are confused about the powder, it will be explained soon.
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