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Baticul is burning. Night hangs heavy over the city, dark plumes of smoke rising into the air as Malkuthian soldiers roam the streets freely, drunk from their victory. The capital city of their greatest enemy had fallen; the war is won.

Even the palace had been breached, its heavy doors blasted apart by a fonic arte. Small groups of soldiers move through the halls, swiftly dispatching the last few pockets of resistance, leaving a trail of crimson in their wake. But the servants and guards of the palace don't interest them: they are after a greater prize. Methodically, they search through every room of the once-grand palace, frustrations mounting as their quarry continues to elude them.

"That damn prince, where is he hiding?" One of them growls, after yet another room yields nothing. Anger crackles in the air as the group of soldiers moves as a pack, heading to the next door, the last one on this particular hallway.

"Locked," someone reports after trying the door.

The fonist of the group scowls, readying an arte. "Explosion!"

The door crumples apart in a burst of flame. The soldiers spill into the room, weapons at the ready.

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The politicians and city officials may not have been willing to admit that they saw the writing on the wall but Yuzuru and his team, if you could call them that, weren't quite so naive. As the threat of Malkuth's army draws near they act without hesitation. Yuzuru sends the prince with the two other guardsmen he trusts the most, the three of them dressed down like common merchants so they can slip through the city unseen. They disappear into the abandoned factory hours before nightfall with none but Yuzuru left to say where they've gone.

Yuzuru himself never stays in one place for long after that, donning finer clothes to throw even his own men into confusion as to whether he's Rei or Yuzuru. By the time the palace doors are breached only a few can say for sure if the prince himself is still in the palace, fleeing to safety, or already dead. It's an unpleasant deception, but a wholly necessary one. Every hour, every minute, every second the enemy spends believing that Yuzuru is the prince is a little more time the real prince has to flee to safety.

Fortunately (hah) he won't have to act it out much longer. It's just himself and three others left in the final uninvaded study. One waits by the window and shoves it open the instant the door is blasted apart, leaping down into the small garden below. The other waits half a second longer, lets out a theatrical cry of, "Prince, this way!", and then follows the first. The third, a swordsman, waits to the side of the door and rushes to meet the first of the Malkuth soldiers with steel. Yuzuru himself has been preparing for this moment. He stands still and steady, bow in his hands and arrow knocked but not yet drawn, eyes closed as he readies an arte of his own. It's a bit of a strain but he holds it in check until the very last instant, unleashing it just half a second after the door bursts open and the soldiers pour in.

"Negative Gate!" Yuzuru is a competent fonist in his own right, but he knows it won't do much. All four of them are certain to die, either here in this room or while they attempt to flee this city later - but every single second they can buy is precious. It's for that reason that Yuzuru doesn't hesitate. As soon as he's recovered from the art his raises his bow and draws, taking aim at what he's pretty sure is the group's the fonist and releasing as quick as he dares.

"It's the prince!"

"Don't let him get away!"

The next few seconds are a chaos of steel and darkness, the lurid glow of Yuzuru's arte bathing the room in sharp edges of light and shadow. The Malkuthian fonist falls with a shout, clutching his shoulder. But even with that setback, these soldiers are some of Malkuth's most elite: the Kimlascan swordsman is swiftly overwhelmed by sheer numbers, disarmed and knocked into the ground. One of the soldiers give him a swift kick to the head, and the swordsman's eyes go blank, then close.

The soldiers fan out across the room, blocking the door and the window. "Come along quietly, Prince," the leader says. There's an ugly leer just visible under his helmet, his mouth curled with disdain. "It's over. There's no point in fighting us now."

Bastard, Yuzuru thinks to himself as the enemy fonist falls, grim smile going a touch vicious around the edges before he gets his expression back under control. He whips another arrow out of his quiver and has it nocked and half drawn in a second - and then it's over. He falls back half a step, letting his smile fade as he flicks his gaze to the downed guardsman. If he were acting for himself he knows exactly what he'd do, but he hadn't missed the shouts from the enemy soldiers. They'd swallowed the bait and accepted that he's Rei, so...

"Call of your pursuit of my guardsmen." It's a stupid request and Yuzuru knows it. The most likely outcome, he wagers, is that the soldiers will agree to his demand and then kill 'his' guards anyway - though there's always a chance they'll just risk more artes and arrows and try to take him by force anyway. Either way, the point here isn't to negotiate for lives that are already forfeit. Right now his job is to maintain the illusion while stalling for time.

"He thinks he can still bargain." One of the soldiers laugh, advancing with his sword drawn. His commander doesn't attempt to stop him.

"I don't have the authority for that, Prince." He glances out of the window. The two guardsmen are nowhere in sight. "There's no reason to be concerned about them anyway. They abandoned you."

The small circle of soldiers is beginning to close, bit by bit. Many of them wear matching smiles, sharp as blade. A sense of anticipation hums in the air.

"They've..." done exactly what I asked them, Yuzuru wants to conclude, but he forces himself to stay silent, letting his expression slip into one of worry and unease. It's not hard to maintain, though, especially when he lets his gaze drop to the felled guardsman new the door. It would be nice if he could live, too...

But Yuzuru has more pressing concerns at the moment. His entire body is prickling with unease as the soldiers draw closer, his instincts screaming at him to fight back. He could do it, too, maybe even take down a few of them with him if he were vicious enough - but he's not supposed to be vicious. He's supposed to be a prince, better a fast talk and diplomacy than anything so dramatic as knifeplay and fist fights. He falters, then finally lowers his bow, easing on the tension but not dropping the weapon outright.

"Fine." He lets out a slow breath, like he's trying to relax - but his shoulders stay a little hunched and his gaze flicks over the surrounding soldiers uneasily. He doesn't like the tension in the air at all, and he likes the expression on the guards' faces even less. This isn't going to end well for him at all.

"Grab him."

Hands seize Yuzuru by his shoulders. His bow and arrows are snatched from him and tossed casually to the side. He's marched over to the commander, who grabs him by the chin and peers at him, assessing.

Then he smiles as well. "We have the prince. I think celebrations are in order. Strip him."

Even before the commander finishes speaking, there are already rough hands pulling at Yuzuru's finery. The soldier grips at the expensive cloth, yanking hard until there's an audible tearing noise.

Yuzuru stays tense and offers slight resistance as he's disarmed and shoved about, enough to require a bit of force but not so much that he needs to be yanked off his feet. His keeps his chin high and his expression cool as he's marched forward, meeting the commander's gaze steadily.

That calm expression is replaced with a look of deep, primal unease as the order is given and the guards grab at him. His entire body going rigid as his clothes are torn and the cool night air gusts across his skin. His instincts take over and his composure slips, albeit not in a very princely way. He doesn't cower and cringe away - he fights back, jerking his head backwards in the hopes of bashing one of the soldiers in the nose and lashing out to aim a vicious stomp at the commander's knee.

He's willing to sacrifice a lot for Rei, but he's not ready to sit down and placidly accept this.

None of the soldiers expect such ferocity from an enemy prince they thought of as pampered and spoiled. There are twin shouts of pain as the commander and soldier stumble away. But Yuzuru is surrounded on all sides by the enemy; one soldier is rushing forward immediately, trying to tackle Yuzuru to the ground.

Yuzuru's pretty good in a fight, but he's not that good and especially not against more than one soldier at once. He goes down when he's tackled without time to brace himself, smacking his head against the stone floor and promptly loosing the ability to focus. His vision blurs and splits and his movements get sluggish, his thoughts foggy.

He groans quietly as he struggles to sit up, but his ability to fight back is gone for the moment.

"Just another useless royal after all, aren't you?" Another pair of hands grab fistfuls of Yuzuru's clothes, pulling and tearing. There's an undercurrent of anger in the air now, a vicious sort of energy that fills the soldiers.

Suddenly, they go still. There's the sound of heavy booted feet somewhere down the hall: another regiment of soldiers approaching the study. The soldiers in the room groan. "Quick, hide him," someone mutters.

Yuzuru's clothing is all delicate finery, apart from his boots, and all of it goes quickly as he struggles to recover. More than anything it strikes him that it's cold in the study and he immediately thinks that it's a little silly to worry about something like when he's about to have much worse problems in his immediate future. He's already recovering from the fall, but not as fast as he'd like.

But fast enough to catch the sudden shift in the tension in his room, and fast enough to hear the order to hide him away. If they want him hidden then that means that whoever is out there is likely to put a stop to this. It's not lost on Yuzuru that the grass isn't necessarily greener on the other side, but if it comes down to a guarantee or a chance...

Yuzuru can't work up the energy to shout and they'd probably notice in time to stop him - so he whistles through his teeth instead, loud and piercing and as long as Yuzuru can manage before the surrounding soldiers silence him.

With a snarl of anger, one of the soldiers kicks Yuzuru right in the ribs, but it's too late. The sound of footsteps grow louder, and before long, the other regiment had entered the room. They wear the same Malkuthian blue as Yuzuru's tormentors, but the design of their uniforms is different.

"What's happening here?" The man who speaks is tall, dressed in the deep blue uniform of a Colonel. His red eyes scan the room quickly, taking in the sight of the downed guardsman by the door, then coming to rest on Yuzuru. If he's surprised by his half-undressed state, it doesn't show on his face.

The kick to the ribs has Yuzuru jerking violently and curling in on himself, but he forces himself to keep his gaze up, almost desperate to see who walks through the door. He's familiar with Malkuth's uniforms and recognizes the fact that Jade is a colonel right away. That's potentially bad news - if he's a Malkuth colonel then he's almost certainly a skilled fonist. But this newcomer doesn't seem impressed with the other soldiers' choice in activities, so Yuzuru decides to take a chance.

"Good evening, colonel." He smile he's so accustomed to wearing finds its way back onto his face without any effort at all, pleasant and mild despite the grim situation. Yuzuru himself would be quite content to stay seated right where he is, but it wouldn't be very princely of him. Instead he pushes himself to stand, motions slow and deliberate even though he's sure he'll be knocked down again regardless. "It looks like you've interrupted my captors' idea of a victory celebration."

It seems the arrival of this new group is enough to curb the worst of the violence; no one moves to knock Yuzuru down again, although he attracts a few dark stares from both groups. A captive shouldn't be so composed.

Jade, for his part, would be amused by the boy's attempt at maintaining his dignity if the situation isn't so serious. This boy must be the Kimlascan prince, considering his finery and his appearance, coupled with the fact he's located so deep in the palace. And while Kimlascan may be a nation fallen, their prince could still prove useful.

At the very least, Jade is of the opinion that the news of their prince's brutal rape at the hands of Malkuth's forces won't do anything to endear them to the Kimlascan cities they had subjugated. That's something to be avoided at all costs, particularly when their hold over Kimlasca is still somewhat tenuous.

"Oh?" He returns Yuzuru's smile, matching that mild pleasantness perfectly. He turns to the other commander. "I don't recall hearing anything about a victory celebration. Didn't we have orders to take the prince into custody?"

The other commander can't quite meet his eyes. Jade takes it as a good sign. Technically, their forces are of equal rank, but that military nickname of Necromancer carries some weight, and everyone knows he works directly under the Emperor to advance military research. Jade takes advantage of every bit of that influence.

"I'll be taking the prince now," he continues. "I trust there are no objections?"

"Wait, Colonel," someone interjects, and Jade sighs inwardly. "You have to be acting in good faith, you realize."

Ah. That rule. It's not often Jade hears it invoked. They must want the prince quite badly.

"I'm well aware." His tone is perfectly controlled, his posture at ease, as it always is. "We can settle the details of that later."

His gaze flicks back to Yuzuru. "Now, Your Highness, shall we be going?"

Maintaining his composure is Yuzuru's specialty - apparently, it seems, even in the face of imprisonment and attempted gang rape by his nation's most hated enemies. His mind is still sluggish from the fall but it's racing all the same. He's desperate to think ten steps ahead, to try to gain any advantage he can and take in whatever information there is to see.

It's how he doesn't miss the significance of Jade's mild, pleasant smile. He knows plenty of people that dismiss easy smiles as a sign of a fool, but he isn't one of them. Anyone that can smile such a calm, placid smile in the face of such tension isn't someone he's going to take lightly. Still, his own expression doesn't falter as he answers, filling the silence that the other commander doesn't.

"It came as quite a shock to me as well." He falls silent and listens closely after that, keeping his expression in place but inwardly worrying when 'good faith' is brought up. What the hell is that supposed to mean? He knows a fair amount about Malkuth - more than the average Kimlascan - but the minutiae it's assorted military laws and unspoken rules isn't counted among his knowledge. He'll have to figure it out later.

For now, however, he simply has to play along. Jade's question is met with a gracious nod (Yuzuru has to catch himself before he lets the gesture fall into a proper bow) and the same, unwavering smile.

"Lead the way, Colonel." He doesn't risk trying to order Jade around, but he does make it sound more like they're going on a pleasant stroll, rather than Yuzuru being lead to relative safety with his clothing in tatters.

He's quite composed for a captive, conducting himself in a manner that befits a prince.

(It could be troublesome later on, seeing as he's now surrounded on all sides by an enemy that wants to see him broken and humiliated.)

His men close ranks behind him as he leads the way out of the room, back through the halls of the palace. It's eerily quiet; the last of the fighting had died down. There are more signs of life as they leave the deeper recesses of the palace back towards the more populated halls, where Malkuthian soldiers move back and forth in disciplined ranks, busy converting the palace to a temporary base of operations.

Although Jade is not particularly fond of explanations, he'll inform the captured prince of the situation as they walk. After all, the prince is a valuable captive, and the conventions of war dictate that he be treated with dignity as befits one of his rank.

Conventions that his compatriots seem eager to flout, but Jade had always conducted himself using the law as his guide.

"I'm afraid we'll have to keep you in solitary confinement for the time being, Your Highness. I'll have to confer with my Emperor about your fate, but it's likely that I'll be given custody over you." More military rules, this time concerning prisoners and the spoils of war - finders keepers, to use the colloquial term.

"I hope that is acceptable to you." Not that he has a choice.

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