Chapter 5: The Battle of Love

The sun had vanished over the horizon, and the sounds of the party inside of Garou could still be heard a huge distance away. However, that night, hundreds of shadows crept towards the castle, being as silent as possible as they moved, until they arrived at its very gates. There were only a few guards outside of those gates, but they would have been enough to raise the alarm if they'd had the chance. Silently, therefore, one shadow broke off from the rest, moving towards the guards, just outside of their field of vision. At last, it was mere inches behind one of them, and there, in one swift motion, it drew two weapons. In only a moment longer, before either man could react, it was holding a sword to the neck of one of the guards, and aiming a longer sword, outstretched, at the others.

For a moment, no one moved a muscle, and there was complete silence. The guard with the blade to his neck was starting to look absolutely terrified, but the others looking more concerned for their friend than mortally afraid for themselves, which was their mistake. From that angle, the shadowy figure could have killed any of them easily. Still, he hadn't done so yet, and he had his reasons for that.

"In a fraction of a second, I could kill you all." the figure whispered just loud enough to be heard by the three guards there, "I should, since you're serving Ralse. You'd have earned it. However, it's also possible that you've been forced into this; that you'd give anything to destroy him. If that's the case, then you should be fighting on my side."

With those words, the figure tossed his head back quickly, sweeping aside his hood, and revealing his true identity; Sir Draco; the former Hero of the West. For a few moments, the three guards just looked at each other in worry, not sure what to make of their situation. One of them, after all, had been born and raised in the East, but even on his face, there was a look of doubt.

"Before you make your decision, you should know that you're surrounded by my men right now." Draco continued firmly, "If you decide to try to fight me, there's no way that you can escape. On the other hand, if you join me, we may all become fugitives, and escaping won't be easy. We will, however, be able to help each other. Of course, if you really do want to fight me, there's nothing stopping you. You'll just have to deal with the consequences of that choice."

It seemed that the Western guards had both made up their minds to join Draco, but the guard from the East was starting to look convinced too, and in a moment, he'd sheathed his weapon.

"Forget that." he said, "I didn't come here to do this kind of thing anyway. The Prince has just been in there partying all month, and I've never gotten even one invitation. I'm sick of risking my life for him."

At that point, though, Draco had started to smile, and in another moment, he'd sheathed his smaller sword, releasing the guard who he'd been using as a hostage. Fortunately, none of them tried to move against him at that point, which was a relief for all of them, but they didn't seem terribly confident either, and a moment later, one of them spoke up, looking pretty confused.

"So what are we supposed to do, sir? Ralse is planning to marry the princess tonight, and if he does that, he'll be the legitimate King of the West."

"Well, we obviously have to get into the castle and stop him before he can hold the wedding." Draco concluded, "How long do you think the dance will last?"

"There's no way to say." the guard from the East replied, "It could be fifteen minutes or three hours."

"Eastern wedding ceremonies don't last very long." Draco muttered to himself for a moment, "Our country wouldn't have considered them valid before, but right now, the country is Ralse, so we need to get in there as quickly as we can."

For a moment, the guards started to look disappointedly at the ground, but Draco knew why they were upset, and he was eager to make them feel a little better.

"Don't worry." Draco replied with a smile, "I know this gate only opens from the inside. I'll just need your help in the fight. I can get us into the castle myself."

Then, before anyone could ask Draco what he meant by that, he'd pressed a stud on his sword, and swept it forwards. In moments, the blade had entangled itself around one of the crenelations on the lower walls, and soon, he was climbing up along the chain sections of his sword, carefully avoiding the sharp points that made it such a useful weapon. Soon, he'd made it to the top, and was pulling up his sword behind him, then disappeared over the other side of the wall.

For a few seconds, nothing else seemed to be happening. There was no sign of Draco's presence at all, in fact. Soon, though, there was the sound of heavy chains being moved from the other side of the gate, and in moments, the whole gate came crashing to the ground, its thick chains having been separated completely from the wheels and pulleys that had recently been used to move them. That gate, the three guards were amazed to see, would never work again, and on the other side stood the man responsible; still armed with twin swords, and flanked by two more apparent defectors from Ralse's side. Just seeing such strength and skill on the part of that great man was, they realized, starting to give them all hope again.

Maria had spent a lot time handling flowers, and every bit as long digging in the dirt since she'd been just a little girl. In fact, she'd found that there was something beautiful and honest about the soil of the garden; something that was wholesome, just because it gave life. She knew what it was like to get dirty, and had even enjoyed it from time to time. However, she'd never really felt dirty back then, and she'd never felt anywhere near as dirty as she did that night, being led around the dance hall in a sort of uncomfortable, forced waltz.

It was the worse sort of dance that Maria had ever been part of. The only dance that might have compared was her first dance with Ralse, because while he knew a thing or two about dancing, he was inconsiderate in the extreme, and it showed in every step he took. Everything had to be done his way; by his will. There was no time in that dance when he showed even a sign of letting Maria lead, so nothing about the dance could have been enjoyable, even if she'd tried to have a good time. Brute force and an inconsiderate heart could, after all, ruin anything.

However, Maria had been helpless to stop the dance in any way. She was trapped in the arms of the person she disliked most in all the world, and there was nothing she could do about it yet; not until he let down his guard. However, that might, she was starting to realize, take quite a while. Ralse didn't seem to realize just how much disdain he'd inspired in the princess, though, because as the dance continued, he spoke to her a number of times, sounding as if he really wanted her to love him in some way.

"I know how you must feel about me, princess. I'm sorry about what's happened to your father. For what it's worth, I hope he recovers."

Maria didn't say a word as the prince continued to lead her around to room, so soon, he seemed to have decided that it was alright to speak to her a bit more.

"My father had his own ambitions for your kingdom, but I never did. There are certain things I had to do, just to appease him, but once we're married, I'll be the king of both our countries, and then things will go back to the way they were."

For a moment, Maria genuinely though about that possibility, but she wasn't really that naive. Ralse had been raised to hold the same beliefs as his father, and he was still determined to keep her from marrying Draco. On top of that, he'd done everything in his power to impose his will and his form of government on her country by the sword. Maria had learned, long ago, that the truth about a person was found in their actions; not their words, and that lesson couldn't have had a better example that Prince Ralse. He talked very convincingly at times, but those words were nothing more than a lure, to cover for his barbaric actions. Over time, the princess had grown too intelligent to fall for such transparent lies.

"I know you may only be thinking about the horrible things that have happened in the past," the prince remarked, "but we should be thinking about the future. Soon, I'll be the world's most powerful man, and with me by your side, you'll have nothing to fear."

"Nothing but you." Maria thought silently, though she didn't dare to express how she really felt just yet.

"I'll make sure that peace reigns throughout the western territories." Ralse explained, and in those words, the princess saw a slight glimmer of the truth, because to Ralse, "peace" meant "a lack of any opportunity for rebellion against me." Peace, to him, was oppression, not fairness.

"My men are very loyal." Ralse insisted, though in her mind, Maria found herself replacing the word "loyal" with "afraid."

"If I sign an edict that the people are no longer allowed to own weapons, there won't be anyone left to harm you." the prince explained, though once again, in her mind, Maria had replaced the words "harm you" with "challenge me;" the thing that he truly meant. To Ralse, Maria was nothing but a possession to guard. He didn't really care about her, or he would have been willing to honor at least some of her requests. In that respect, Ralse's wish to keep Maria safe only stemmed from his central desire to get whatever he wanted, and to prevent other people from taking it away from him. There was no love in a heart as cold as his.

At last, however, Prince Ralse said one more thing, which really hurt Maria, all the way down to the bottom of her heart, whether he'd meant to or not.

"Don't worry, princess. No violent killer will ever touch you again. This kingdom will live in peace for a hundred years."

Maria had to fight back the urge to strike Prince Ralse right across the face for that remark. Committing violence, and even killing weren't always a sign of wickedness, but murder always was, and over the course of the last few months, Prince Ralse had murdered whole families. He had absolutely no right to touch her himself, or even to come within a mile of her, and yet, the only way that she could stop it was, she realized, by playing along. Still, the words that did end up coming out of her mouth contained a sort of half-truth, which she hadn't intended.

"Yes. There will be peace very soon."

However, even as Maria said those words, she started to notice a sort of strange rumbling, which seemed to be coming from outside, and it was growing louder with every passing second, becoming more and more distinct. Furthermore, Maria wasn't the only one who was noticing it. Everyone; including Ralse himself seemed to have heard the odd noise, and many were rushing to the balcony to get a better look. Prince Ralse, however, merely stood where he was, releasing Maria and looking around carefully, like a wolf expecting to be ambushed at any second.

Sure enough, only a moment later, the door to the dance hall had burst open, and in rushed a young soldier, who looked incredibly tired and out of breath. In fact, it seemed as if only his panic was keeping him on his feet, and it took him several moments before he could speak intelligibly. However, the first person he spoke to once he'd gotten his breath back was Prince Ralse himself, and he spoke to the prince without any of the customary bowing or requesting that was usually done by subjects of the East.

"Prince!" the soldier exclaimed in obvious desperation, "It's the West! The survivors of the West attack!"

"Impossible!" the prince exclaimed angrily, his brow furrowing in disapproval, "They fled before us like sheep! What kind of attack could they possibly...?"

However, just at that moment, the doors that the soldier had rushed through were flung open again, and in charged two men, each dressed in leather armor, and wearing purple cloth around their heads. Each was armed with multiple weapons, and they looked ready to attack anyone who dared to stand in their way.

"They're here." the young soldier muttered, desperately drawing his sword as the dancers all fled in a panic to either side of the hall. Soon, the two invaders charged into the room, shouting the call to attack, and one of them had engaged the young soldier, while the other struggling with one of the Prince's personal guards.

Maria could barely believe what was happening before her very eyes. Ralse's guards were some of the East's most experienced warriors, and yet, those soldiers in the leather were fighting on a completely even footing with them. It was almost as much as Maria could have hoped for, though she knew that Ralse was a skilled fighter himself, and could definitely turn the tide of that battle if he decided to draw his sword. Still, those rebels had gotten into the very dance hall where Ralse had been holding his party, and if they'd really gotten that far, then they must have been led by someone very powerful.

However, as Maria thought those things over, she heard yet another voice, distracting almost everyone from the fierce battle that they were engaged in. It distracted her most of all, though, because she would have recognized that voice in her sleep.

"Wait!"

Suddenly, there was a huge blur of silver and yellow, and something very large came crashing onto the balcony from below, then charging into the room in a flash. It was enough to arrest the attention of Ralse's guards from what they were doing, giving the rebel soldiers the chance to get the upper hand, and run their enemies through, though many of the party guests screamed at the sight. Maria had never seen a person killed before, but for some reason, all she could feel was relief, as the fast-moving object colliding hard with the Prince, knocking him to the floor.

In seconds, the swift, blurry object had divided into two, and it was then that Maria saw what it was, and hope started to finally return to her heart. The bottom part of the thing; the yellow part, was a chocobo; the fastest kind of mount in the world; a bright yellow, flightless bird, and the one in the silver, who'd been riding on it, was none other than her beloved Draco himself; the very one who she'd been praying to see again.

It seemed as if he'd been praying for her as well, because soon, Sir Draco had turned to face her, even as Prince Ralse tried to scramble to his feet. In spite of the chaos that surrounded them, his eyes were only for her.

"Maria!" Draco exclaimed, with the same look of love that he'd always tried to show her in the past.

She didn't dare to make a move towards him at the time, because Ralse looked like he was about to attack, but Maria couldn't stop herself from replying to her beloved at once, with the best words of encouragement that she could think of.

"Draco, I've waited so long. I knew you'd come."

Of course, Draco's smile broadened when he heard that, but it was short-lived, because soon, the tall figure of Prince Ralse was standing between them, pointing one finger accusingly as he spoke to the intruder.

"I suppose you think you've been terribly clever," Ralse said angrily, "bursting in here like a psychopath and causing a commotion in the middle of a peaceful dance. The last time we met, you said that you'd only have the chance to harm me during wartime, because war changes all the rules. Isn't that exactly what you said?"

Draco didn't say a word in reply to that, however.

"Here you are, however. The war is over. I won, and yet, you approach me with your sword drawn. Why, Draco? If you're willing to murder me in a time of peace, then why didn't you do it before?"

However, nothing about Draco really seemed to have been changed; by the war or by Ralse's words. He didn't look any more desperate or vicious than he had all those months ago. In fact, he looked, if anything, more careful and intelligent than ever, and when he spoke, his reply was very direct.

"I notice you've been fixating on only one of the things that I said, Prince Ralse. You've ignored all the others. For one thing, I told you that if you planned to marry Maria, you'd have to kill me yourself. I also told you that if you went to war with the West, you'd have to pay for it with your life. I won't take that back, whether you won or lost."

"I think you're just a stubborn fool." Prince Ralse replied, however, discarding all attempt to reason with his enemy, though Draco still didn't make a move against him, "You don't like the fact that you lost, and you won't accept my victory, just because it goes against what you want."

However, Draco didn't even look upset at that point. In fact, he'd started smiling again a moment later.

"You puffed-up, lying windbag." Draco remarked with a proud grin, "You never beat me."

"What?" Ralse exclaimed, clenching his fists tightly in fury, but Draco wasn't backing down.

"You said it yourself; I'm not a prince." the great knight replied, his smile seeming to grow wider as he spoke, "I don't even fight on the same level as you. You fight with armies and guards. You tell them where to go and what to do, and they do it. They do your fighting for you, and all you have to do is plan things out. During the war, I never fought that way. I fought with my own two arms, against other enemies, who fought the same way I did, and obviously, since I'm standing here right now; alive, I won those fights. I never fought on the same level as you until tonight, and you've never fought on the same level as me, so how could you have won? That's just ridiculous."

"Well, explain something to me, then?" Ralse insisted furiously, "If I didn't win, then how did I end up in charge?"

"It's because you never tried to fight me." Draco replied, still smiling, "You fought weaklings like the chancellor, but you never fought me. I'm still not going to let you get what you want. Now kill me, if you can, but I warn you; if you draw your weapon on me, it'll mean that you're ready to risk your life. I could still be talked into sparing you, but your people have paid enough for your greed, and tonight, one way or another, you'll pay for what you've done."

However, Ralse didn't hesitate at all. In only a second, he'd drawn his sword from where it had hung on his belt, and spoke to Draco viciously again.

"You're the one who's going to pay! You won't survive the night! Maria will finally have to become my queen!"

However, it seemed that Draco was tired of trading words with Ralse, because he didn't even bother replying to him. Instead, he turned to look at Maria one last time, with the same confident smile on his face, and spoke to her directly a moment later.

"Maria..." he said in what looked, amazingly, like relief, "For the rest of my life, I'll keep you near..."

However, that only seemed to have made Prince Ralse angrier, because he'd started to shout again, as if he were throwing a tantrum.

"Don't turn away from me, fool! This isn't some kind of game! It's a duel..."

In one swift motion, Ralse had charged with his blade stretched out in front of him, not moving it in the least, and at last, both swords collided hard with each other, and the two fighters started to move like lightning. Maria's eyes could barely even keep track of Ralse or Draco as they fought, and even the rebels in the leather looked stunned by the battle that was going on in front of them.

From the moment that the fight began, Draco could tell that he was going to have to be careful with Ralse. They'd never fought in person before, but it was clear that Ralse had been taught by the best trainers that money could buy, and he seemed to have a natural gift for swordplay as well. The look in his eyes never wavered as he jabbed repeatedly with his foil, twisting his blade a few centimeters left and right, in an effort to goad Draco into making a bad move. It was a normal technique, of course, but only among people who knew how to handle a foil, and that had made it obvious just how skilled Ralse was.

Soon, however, Ralse had made another move, advancing quickly with a few brief hops along the floor. It was the sort of move that forced one of them to strike, unless the other backed off, and although he wasn't sure what kind of technique Ralse was going to use next, Draco moved quickly, intercepting his first attack, then trying to lash out with his other sword. However, in that moment, Ralse performed a very odd maneuver; one that Draco had never seen in any fencing tournament. Rotating his sword with a flip of his wrist, Ralse deflected Draco's blow without lowering his guard at all, then blocked the knight's other weapon in the same manner just a moment later.

At first, Draco was stunned, because the type of sword that Ralse was using usually had a wrist guard on it, which would have prevented a move like that, but he could see that Ralse's sword had been designed without one when he looked a bit closer. It was an extremely simple maneuver, and yet, with a long foil like his, it made him very dangerous. In fact, it seemed like Ralse could deflect nearly any blow aimed at him with that technique, so in a moment, Draco decided to try something a bit more risky.

Quickly, Draco moved both of his swords at once, clamping them down over the point of Ralse's blade, but almost instantly, he'd rotated it again, and his foil just slid free, as if Draco's swords hadn't even been there. At that point, the knight knew that he'd have to move fast, because Ralse was already aiming a jab at his body.

The problem was that by slipping out of the grasp of Draco's blades, Ralse had also thrown him off-guard, sliding each of his swords off to the side. It took him a moment to recover from that momentary slip-up. In fact, he barely had enough time to move even one of his swords to block Ralse's next attack, and he needed to use his other blade to block the one after that. Ralse seemed a little disappointed that those attacks had failed, but he still looked confident, and there was no denying that his skills as a swordsman were superb. However, Draco still had one last thing to try out.

Pressing the stud on the side of his longer blade, Draco released it onto its chain, and in one swift motion, he swept it forward like a flail. It was the only weapon he had, which could outdistance Ralse's blade, and he could only hope that the prince wouldn't be expecting it.

However, those hopes were in vain. In the last moment before the chain sword had been about to hit the prince, his foil had risen up, and caught it by one part of its chain. In moments, it had gotten tangled around Ralse's sword, and he pulled it forward, with more strength than Draco would have given him credit for, still using only one hand the whole time.

Draco was horrified as he found himself being pulled towards the prince, yet unwilling to release his favorite sword in order to free himself. At last, he decided to just take advantage of the situation and charge in with his other sword while Ralse's weapon was occupied, but even that, it turned out, wasn't a perfect move, because the prince reacted to it quickly, doing something else that Draco had never seen in any fencing tournament.

In one swift move, the prince lifted one foot, and kicked aside the weapon of his enemy, knocking it to the ground and standing on it. Then, he swung his other foot around, aiming a kick at Draco's head.

However, in that move, Draco saw a weakness. The prince was just too confident, and that one time, he'd slipped up. Quickly, Draco released both of his swords and grabbed Ralse's boot. For a moment, it seemed that the prince was trying to whip his own sword around and finish his enemy, but he just couldn't do it fast enough, and by the time he got his sword free, Draco had started pushing his leg upward, throwing him off-balance. Ralse looked terrified by that point, because he must have known he'd made a mistake, but it seemed that he'd never fought anyone quite like Draco before. In only a moment, he'd fallen to the ground, and Draco's foot came down on the blade of his foil.

At that point in the fight, though, Draco started to feel something a bit like pity for the wicked prince who'd caused them all such misery, and although he'd sworn to make Ralse pay for all the lives he'd taken, he really was a fantastic swordsman, and would have made a worthy ally, if only he'd taken the opportunity to repent and try to do right by others. For a few moments, Draco paused, hoping that Ralse might surrender, or at least talk to him a little more, but that, it seemed, wasn't meant to be.

In a flash, Prince Ralse had pulled something from within the folds of his coat, and flung it at the knight in one lightning maneuver. However, Draco moved as fast as he could, ducking back away from the object, until he heard the sound of it digging into a nearby wall, and realized that whatever it was, it must have been sharper than a knife. That, he decided, was the last straw.

Quickly, Draco righted himself and drove his fist down into Ralse's face, then delivered a quick blow to his wrist as well, with the same motion. It was the first time that the prince had actually been hit during that fight, and it had clearly weakened him. In a moment, Sir Draco had taken advantage of that weakness to kick his weapon across the room, and stepping right over the prince, moved to pick up his own swords again.

The prince was struggling to his feet again by the time Draco got his weapons back, but it was too late for him to retrieve his own sword anymore. It was yet another opportunity for that royal brat to surrender, but something was truly wrong with him in that respect.

It seemed as if Prince Ralse had never tried to justify his actions by honoring any code of conduct, so he must have had a feeling of guilt that was as deep as the ocean; a feeling that he could only ignore by reminding himself that he had the power to get whatever he desired. In fact, he'd apparently based his whole self-worth on that power; that near-omnipotence, and to someone like that, losing would have seemed like a fate worse than death.

Almost instantly, the prince had pulled a series of light throwing daggers from his coat, holding them between his fingers for a moment before hurling them in a volley at the knight, but Sir Draco wasn't about to be beaten by any weapon that couldn't change direction in mid-attack. In one single motion, he'd used his chain sword to knock every last one of those knives to the floor, then drove sideways with his other weapon, just as Ralse was rushing for his foil, and swept it around in a wide arc. For a few moments after that, everything seemed to be outlined in a hue of red.

To Maria, the whole fight seemed to have taken no more than fifteen seconds. It had all happened so fast, in fact, that at first, she wasn't even sure who'd won. However, her doubts and fears had soon begun to evaporate, leaving behind only a feeling of hope and encouragement, in spite of the fact that another dead man was lying on the floor of the dance hall; his head completely separated from the rest of him.

Quickly, Maria rushed up to Draco and wrapped her arms around him again, feeling almost overwhelmed with relief, though she didn't really feel like smiling in the midst of all that bloodshed. Even Draco wasn't smiling as he looked down at the body of his defeated foe, though Maria suspected that his feelings were a bit different.

Of course, the ones who were really upset were Prince Ralse's friends; who he always invited to those dances with him. None of the other people dancing that night had been lords or ladies of the kingdom; just personal friends of that one man who'd used his influence to dominate their whole country so completely. Fortunately, they weren't fighters, and seemed to realized that, because they were keeping their distance from Draco very carefully, though many of them looked at him with fury in their eyes. He didn't seem to care what they thought of him, though. In fact, he wasn't even glancing at them. As soon as he'd turned away from Prince Ralse, there was only one person who he bothered to look at.

"It would be unseemly to discuss my feelings in this place of death." Maria explained as quickly as she could, but Draco clearly understood how she felt, because in just a moment, he'd led her out of the dance hall and down the stairs beyond, with one of his men proceeding in front of him, and the other bringing up the rear. Still, the moment that Draco had made it out into the courtyard, where the rest of his men were standing, having seemingly won their battle as well, Maria knew that she had to talk to her beloved about how she really felt.

"Oh, Draco!" Maria almost shouted in joy, though she still didn't smile, "I'm so relieved. You're... I mean, I always believed you'd come and save us before things got too bad, and now... I mean, now that you're here, and with Ralse gone, things will finally get back to normal. My father's been getting weaker every day, but once we're married, we'll be the new king and queen of the west, and then... and then..."

However, although Maria had been excited by the idea at first, when she said those words aloud, she'd begun to realize that her plan didn't really solve any of their problems.

"Then what?" Draco asked, frowning openly by that point, "I still love you more than anyone, and I still want us to be husband and wife, if you'll have me. I guess you're right; that'll probably make me the legitimate King of the West, but I think you know that Prince Ralse wasn't our only problem. Right now, there are three Eastern armies converging on Garou, and they're going to reclaim it sooner or later. Their power in this part of the kingdom has been shaken, and that gives us a chance to plan out our next move, but we're definitely not out of danger yet. Even if we do reclaim the West some day, there's still one more problem to think about."

"King Fannis is going to want you dead for killing his son." Maria realized aloud, as savvy as ever, in spite of her purity of heart.

"Yes." Draco admitted, looking away slowly, "He'll be outraged by what I did. He'll take it personally, and he's going to whip his generals into a horrible rage while he's trying to hunt me down."

At that point, a grim feeling was creeping up over Maria again. It would have been a lie to say that she felt as bad as she had before. Just having Draco there with her was enough to prevent that, but it certainly wasn't the kind of reunion she'd hoped for.

"Still, there might be opportunities, even in that." Draco continued a moment later, though for the moment, he wasn't daring to look his beloved in the eye, "Fannis made many enemies during the war, and I'll need to continue searching for them, and recruiting as best I can. It's not going to be easy to overthrow his tyranny or rebuild the West, but I'm sure that if we all give it our best effort, it will happen eventually."

It took Maria a few moments to really digest those words, but at last, she started to feel a lot more confident when she replied a moment later.

"I never wanted to live in wartime." Maria admitted aloud to her beloved, "I know I never said it aloud, but what I always wanted was for us to have a peaceful life together; to rule the West together from this castle, and go down to the flower garden every day, just to talk and surround ourselves with all those colors and smells; maybe even bring the kids down with us. Those were the things I always thought about whenever I dreamed of the two of us being together."

At that point, Maria paused for a moment, though she hoped that Draco wouldn't get the wrong impression before she had the chance to continue.

"I don't want that anymore, though." Maria continued, finally smiling as she took Draco's thin gauntlets in her own hands, "I love those flowers, and this castle, and all the beautiful dresses I always wore, but if it keeps me from you, it's all empty. Let's go out into the countryside and hide in the woods. Let's live in tents, dress in rags, and hunt for food and water. I don't care. As long as we're together, it'll be my paradise."

Maria knew that in just a few moments, they'd all have to flee the castle, and face the greatest challenge of their lives. They'd have to fight against both nature and armies of well-armed enemies just to survive, and most likely, they'd lose even more friends on their journey, and face horror and tragedy once again, but in that moment, Draco and Maria were in each other's arms, each loving the other even more than they loved themselves, and that, after all, was where the story of life itself always began; at that union of compassion known as true love.

The End