Prequel Shorts by Parsealion | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil
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Criss

In the world of Five Corners

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Criss

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"If you can't make them care about me, nothing will," Criss choked out, holding back tears. Their recently-coronated sister Cora had caught them in the act of sneaking into the cargo bay of the palace. Criss had hoped to nab one of the escort ship and be off-planet before anyone noticed they were even out of bed. 

"I know," Cora sighed. Then, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. Unfolding it, she offered it to her sibling. 

Criss accepted the offering and inspected it. A simple map of city streets was surrounded by notes and instructions. 

"Do you remember Rowan and Kori, my friends from school? This," Cora pointed to a symbol on the map, "is where they live." 

"Wait, this is the capital if Yllia?!" It was definitely not the farthest place Criss could go, but it was not even close to their first idea; it was barely on the list!

"Yes, they'll keep you safe while you decide what to do next," Cora promised. "Oh, and take this ship."

The ship she gestured to was a small, gray, passenger ship that was clearly designed for reconnaissance. There were few identifiable features, and none relating to its nation or planet of origin. Criss was willing it once belonged to a Viran fleet.

Vira, the nation that had no planet. The Viran people were scavengers and wanderers by tradition, and movers of cargo and people across the star system by trade. While Kori had settled down with Rowan on Yllia, she had been born Viran and was still an incredible pilot. 

Criss let Cora help prepare the ship for flight, then submitted to a tight hug from their sister and a kiss to the crown of their head, and climbed into the cockpit. 

Criss inputted their destination and took off. They gently guided the ship through the cargo bay doors before switching to autopilot as the sky ahead turned to nothing but stars and open space. They sighed. It was beautiful.

In the cold embrace of empty darkness, a tear rolled down their cheek. Then, Criss was sobbing, as loud as they wanted, knowing no-one could hear. And they mourned

They mourned their childhood, and their fractured family. They mourned their own free will. They were only 14 years old and they were running away from home, with the full support of their sister, who was literally a Roquani Queen, because their parents and brother were so horrible they just couldn't take it anymore. And they would never be free. Their parents had gotten Criss betrothed, years ago to some Yllian prince, and it took a whole lot more than running away to change something like that. 

When Criss had calmed enough, they realized a few things: They were exhausted. It was midnight dark in space. And they had a few hours before their approach to the planet.

They figured a nap couldn't hurt. 

*****

Criss awoke to the cockpit filling with light. Yllia, reflecting the light of the brightest of the four stars in the system, was gradually filling the view through the front window of the ship. 

Criss pulled up the nav screen, and began the process of finding a place to land. They adjusted course towards the line where light met dark; the sun was just setting in the capital city. Coordinates on the corner of Cora's handmade map helpfully pinpointed which part of the city to aim for. Now came the hardest part: finding a port to land in. 

An empty port with no surveillance would be the best case scenario, but the odds of a port, public or private, having no eyes on it at all were low. Next best might be a busy public port, where they could blend into the crowd. The downside to that was the increased likelihood of tangles with law enforcement, which were to be avoided at all costs.

There were a few ports in Rowan and Kori's neighborhood, two of which were public and relatively busy. The busiest was near a school, probably better guarded, so Criss opted for the other. Finding a spot to land was easier than Criss expected. They grabbed the ignition key on the way out. Digging some coins out of their coat pocket, they passed the money to the nearest porthand with a "Not a scratch on her!" and speedwalked away before questions could be asked. 

Then, Criss was in the city. The capital of Yllia spread out around them, miles of roads full of people in every direction. Their pristine coat and carefully pinned hair stood out a little from those who didn't have teams of people to wash their clothes and do their hair. 

As the streetlamps were lit in preparation for the night, Criss pulled out their map. The street names weren't hard to find, and a note suggested an alley shortcut that was well-lit, if a little cluttered. 

Their destination came into view and Criss's heart started pounding in their chest. They had only met Kori and Rowan once before, but their sister had sent them here. It would be fine. Right?

A steadying breath. Three quick knocks. The door opened. 

*****

After recovering from her shock, Kori beamed, stepping aside to let Criss into the small row house. The knock had not been surprising, but the face behind it definitely was. 

"We have a special guest!" Kori called to her husband, who was cooking in the next room over. 

Rowan quickly turned off the stove so he could safely greet whoever it was. He had been similarly unsurprised by the knock, but the expected visitor would not have been called a guest, special or otherwise. 

Spotting Criss, who had turned towards the living room couch, Rowan stepped forward and held out his hand.

"I'm Rowan, he/him."

"Criss, they/them." They shook Rowan's hand, then turned.

"Kori, she/her," Kori finished. "Oh! We've heard so much about you, this is so exciting."

"I wish it could have been under better circumstances," offered Rowan. The orange stone on his chest glowed briefly, then dimmed again.

Criss recognized the stone as gravanite, a magical kind of rock that originated on Largo, the ocean planet. Gravanite was rare in the palaces of Roquan, so Criss hadn't seen it much. (None of the royal family had the innate connection, or Affinity, to the substance that was required to use it. Their cousin's boyfriend, though, had a special gray stone that Criss had seen in action once or twice... It wasn't very exciting.) 

Rowan wore his in a stiff collar piece, made of strands of leather woven together tightly, that held the stone against the skin at the top of his sternum. Criss recalled that skin contact was necessary for gravanite to work, and that placement was important. Also, the different colors had different magical effects, though they couldn't immediately think of what orange was for. 

Rowan opened his arms for a hug and Criss remembered. Orange was a warm, comforting ember, for empathy. 

And Rowan's hug was warm, and the perfect amount of pressure, too. Just a little tighter than most would dare. It was exactly what Criss needed in that moment, and they both knew it. 

When they parted, Kori shooed Rowan back into the kitchen and joined Criss on the couch. 

"So," Kori started, lightly. "Have you been here long enough to have an opinion of the city?" 

"Well, it's big."

The two of them kept up the small talk for a few more minutes before Rowan called out to Kori for some help in the kitchen. 

Once alone, Criss decided that they had had enough alone time on the ship, and they grew tense in the quietness. 

Luckily, it didn't last long.

The front door of the house flew open and a teenager sauntered in like he owned the place. 

"Hey, can I crash here tonight? My sister's--" He cut off when he saw Criss on the couch. 

Criss was equally frozen because... that was him, Criss's betrothed. 

*****

Prince Ya'anai, middle child of nine, had met his betrothed once before, when the papers were signed. He knew that they weren't supposed to meet again for two more years, when he and Criss were 18 and 16 years old, respectively. But he was nothing if not adaptable.

Ya'anai shook off his shock, closing the door behind him, then settled in a chair so Criss had some space.

"Hi, your name is Crissabella, right?"

Criss's face turned stony.

"Just Criss," they bit out. "I use they/them pronouns. And you're--"

"Nai! You can just call me Nai. I use he/him. It's nice to meet you Criss!"

Criss was still eyeing Nai suspiciously when Kori returned.

"What's going on in--" She paused. "Oh, right. Well, dinner's all ready so do you two mind interrupting the staring contest, or should we just bring the food up here?"

The moment she said 'contest' Criss knew they were not looking away first.

Nai saw this in their eyes and acquiesced, looking down before smiling up at Kori. 

"Lead the way."

She did not. Instead, Kori waved Nai past her and gave Criss a look that said I can kick him out if you want me to.

Criss responded with an eye roll that said I don't really care, but in a way that betrayed the fuzzy feelings that had started when Nai said their chosen name and hadn't quite gone away. 

They followed Nai down the hall.

*****

Dinner was tasty, but the silence was awkward. Criss kept pausing to glare at Nai, and they didn't respond to any attempts to start a conversation. Until...

"I get the feeling you don't like me," Nai said. Anything to cut this tension that felt like it was physically restraining him. 

"It's not like it matters," Criss muttered.

"What?"

"It's not like I had a choice," Criss spoke up.

"What do you mean you didn't have a choice?!" Nai was on his feet. When had that happened, he thought.

"My parents just told me it was happening. Wait, do you mean you did?"

"Of course! That's how this is supposed to work." Nai was pacing now, and he couldn't seem to figure out how to stop moving or speaking. "I agreed to start the matchmaking process. I got to accept or reject all of my parents' decisions before anything was signed. I can't believe they did that to you!" He froze.

Criss's eyes were filling with tears again, and Nai rushed over, but stopped a few feet away.

Criss, for their part, was trying to process all of that. It wasn't that their parents had chosen a more cruel culture to imitate. Their parents were just cruel no matter what cultural tradition they followed. And here was Nai, their betrothed, full of anger at the cruelty, but also reaching out. His slightly lifted arms painted a picture of wanting to comfort, but unsure if it would be accepted.

"I won't do it," he declared. "I won't marry you if you don't want me to. It'll be your choice now."

He clearly cared about the tradition, but somehow he cared about Criss more.

(He knew that healthy relationships took effort and communication from both sides.)

Criss accepted, moving forward to allow Nai to wrap his arms around them. 

The third hug Criss received that day wasn't the warmest, or the most familiar, but it was the most comforting. Cora's hug had been a goodbye, and an apology for the past. Rowan's was a reassurance that they were safe in the present moment. But Nai's was a promise. A promise for a better future, a brighter tomorrow. Hope that Criss hadn't known was possible. 

Freedom was on the horizon.

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