The carriage rocked with every rock it rode over and every turn it took. The sky was gleaming a golden bronze as the Twilight hour crept upon the kingdom. The roads were compressed with cobble, weeds, and moss, clean and almost pristine -- the ones around the palace that is. The further the carriage rode the more they seemed battered and disheveled. Garbage and filth lined the paths, roads mud, dirt, and what seemed to be more mud.

Cora fiddled with her fingers, wrapping her index around her ring and squeezing it over and over again, her legs were crossed against one another, her dress hung over the sides of the bench. Across from her Amor had laid his head on Oren's shoulder, drool slowly sliding down his cheek and onto his beloved's shirt. Oren stared at the walls of the carriage, taking in the designs, the sounds from outside, the putrid smell.

"I never thought I'd ever escape that man," Oren spoke softly, his fingers running through Amor's hair. His lips curved as he watched the young man's chest rise and fall.

Cora continued to fiddle with her fingers, time from time looking up but mostly dozing away from Oren speaking.

"He was terrible." He slapped his hands against his thighs, Amor shook slightly at the abrupt motion, still asleep.

"The way he treated his people as if they were his slaves, the way he treated Amor." He reached for Amor's hand and placed a gentle kiss on it.

"And what makes it worse," Oren paused, Cora's interest rose at her mention. Oren stared blankly at Cora, unable to move his lips with his tongue pressing against his teeth.

“It happened after his mother’s death…” He couldn't find the words nor the heart to speak of Amor's mother anymore. Cora's chest heaved as she slowly declined from her curiosity.

The carriage came to a forceful stop as the horses neighed and huffed. The man who guided them to their destination opened the doors. His face was covered by a black hood but his hair fell through to show a dark brown that shined in the setting sun.

"We're here, Cora." His voice was hoarse and quick, it sent waves of warmth through their blood as they stepped out of the carriage. Amor's groggy presence was being held up by Oren, his bruises and abrasions had gone down in not only color but the swelling eased, his complexion slowly coming together again.

The sky was a glowing mauve fading into a dark cyan. The strange man led the three young ones through a wooden door placed into a wall made of stones and mud, misplaced stones that had fallen and laid at the base of the wall. The door creaked open to reveal a cluster of huts made from branches of trees, large rocks, broken wooden pieces. Holes in the walls meant to replicate windows caused a shift in the homes, some were falling over, others were washed away by the tide. People were running around, pulling pieces of their homes around. They dressed in rags, poorly stitched cloths, old food bags, they ran barefoot covering their soles in wet sand and splinters. This is their life, constantly scared, scattered, scrambling in what they called clothes.

"Dear seas..." Cora gasped as she took in everything. Her chest twisted and throbbed as she basked the utter chaos of the tide.

"We're not staying in any of these places, right?” Oren asked, completely shocked and uncomfortable at the thought of even being in this environment of a constant disaster.

"We're staying in a different home. It actually stays up." The mystery man spoke as he continued the trek across the beach, passing the people who were in tears, others asleep on the ground with sand and dirt covering their bodies. They watched the group walked pass in their elegant clothing and attire, others begged them for something, anything, but they had nothing to give.

"Please, ma'am." An old, withered man approached Cora, his hands cupped together as his brittle bones creaked and wobbled. "Could you spare some food?" He asked but Cora sat still, her heart thumping at her chest. She had nothing to give. For once in her life, she had nothing but the loose dress that fell to her ankles, blue as the sea. Cora trembled, not sure how to respond. She wanted to mutter a sorry but what would that do. It was only thanks to the pull of her arm that she was able to free herself from her guilt.

Cora's thoughts were scrambling. She couldn't take it all in, the way these people were living, the filth they called home. The constant worry o whether or not their homes would wash away.

"Cora, who is he?” Cora's thoughts dissipated as Amor brought her back to reality.

"Everdeen’s husband, Theyo."

They came up to a taller home. Its exterior was sturdier, made from the same material of the palace.

Theyo entered the home and the three followed suit. A smell filled their noses, a delight to their worries and troubles from the limited time they spent to get here. It was warm, cozy, and furnished well.

"I need you three to change." Theyo removed his hood. A scar that crossed his eye to his cheekbone marked his skin. He handed them separate pairs of clothes, the feel of the harsh material on their skin scratched them, the way it felt as if it could break their skin. The trio stood there, gawking at the clothes.

"Put it on." Theyo snapped at their arrogance. All three of them jumped and scattered around the home.

Cora came out, a brown dress with long, heavy sleeves covered her body, the feeling on her skin made her itch. Next Amor and Oren, identical outfits of tight pants and loose shirts bridged their bodies.

"No one knows you’re princes and princesses. All they know is that you have class, so cut the fancy talk and speak as if you've lost everything in one day. Broken and lost. These people lose their loved ones almost every month. I don't want any complaints. This place may seem shit but they find the best of it." Theyo scolded them, Amor's face burning, Oren's head looking down, but Cora made direct eye contact. She nodded at every word that left his mouth.

"Alright, we’re going out. Stay close to me." He pushed through the front door and walked along the beach. The sun had set and the sea reflected the blackness of the sky, stars sprinkling their way over the ocean's surface.

The further they went the higher the tide slid across the sand, the water was splashed against their feet, the cold grazing their feet on the warm sand for a few seconds. Ice against burning skin.

They continued down the beach to be greeted by a gathering of people around a towering fire. The golden tongues licked the air, the heat wafted over their skin. People danced, smiled, laughed. They were joyous in their gathering, even with the tide as high as it is.

"What is this?" Amor asked, his eyes unable to focus on one thing.

"The tide comes in, the fire goes up. They can't stop the sea so they found a way to use it for their own happiness. They call it the ‘Wet Flame.’" Theyo rolled his eyes as he brought them closer.

"Why would you call it that?" Cora's curiosity bit her tongue. The gleam in her eyes expressed wonder at the festivity and the cheerfulness of such a low-class environment. It astonished her that they dance and behaved as if nothing bad would ever happen to them again as if the tide never came in and washed away their homes.

"How the hell is a flame suppose to burn on water?" He uttered under his breath, concealing his concern and bewilderment to the daily occurrence.

"See that hag over there?" He pointed to an elderly woman in a dark cloak. Her face illuminated in the light of the blaze, every wrinkle on her face was grown enlarged with the shadows that crept across her face, the orange glow from the fire made her look like a god.

"She's been here longer than any of us," Theyo crept closer to Cora, his hands on her shoulders and he spoke in a gentle tongue. "Some say she's been here longer than Aecor."

His hands tightened, "she goes off into a far part of the beach, no one follows her, not ever. She speaks to no one and doesn't give the light of day to anyone who speaks to her." Cora's back tensed, her muscles taut as Theyo's voice whispered on about the woman.

"She's probably a witch." The woman's eyes looked towards Cora and her group, her eyes were a golden brown, they shone in the darkness of the night that enveloped the pure heat of the fire.

"I rebuke!" Amor let out a harsh squeal as he gripped Oren by the hand and ran back to Theyo's home. Theyo crept back turning away from the woman and to the far side of the fire. Cora's eyes never left her. She scanned up and down, studying the lady with pure curiosity, her hand raised to her face as she waved at her, a friendly gesture of kindness. Cora couldn't help but be lured to the woman. She felt herself slipping, she felt foggy, her vision blurred at the edges.