The King Is Dead

Kaelen and Aldric burst out of the exposed wall, the cool night air sharp against their skin as they sprinted into the open. Before they could make it far, a group of the king's men emerged from the shadows, their weapons drawn and eyes gleaming with menace. The soldiers formed a circle around them, blocking every escape route.

Kaelen's glowing golden eyes scanned their faces, calm but calculating. He pulled a small, sharp knife from his belt and tossed it toward Aldric, who caught it midair with a trembling hand. Kaelen's voice was low, dangerous.

"Choose your side properly this time," Kaelen said, his words laced with both challenge and promise. "But remember—if you stand with me, I swear I'll save your sister. That's a promise."

Aldric's hand clenched around the knife, his knuckles white. His mind whirled as he looked at the faces of the men surrounding them—his own comrades, men he had served with, laughed with, fought alongside. He knew their names, their families. His heart twisted painfully, overwhelmed by the weight of the decision before him.

Then an image of Rylan flashed in his mind: broken, battered, and barely alive in the arms of someone who truly loved him. The memory burned in his chest, igniting a fire of guilt, rage, and clarity. He realized, in that moment, that these men—his so-called brothers-in-arms—had no loyalty to anyone but the king's greed. And the only person who had truly seen him, cared for him as a human, was Rylan.

Aldric's hesitation vanished. His green eyes darkened with fury as he tightened his grip on the knife. "They took everything from me," he whispered to himself, his voice trembling with emotion. Then louder, with a roar: "NOT ANYMORE !"

With a speed and ferocity Kaelen hadn't seen before, Aldric launched himself at the nearest soldier, slashing through his throat in one brutal motion. Blood sprayed as the man crumpled to the ground.

The other soldiers hesitated, stunned by Aldric's betrayal. But Aldric didn't stop. His anger fueled him as he tore through them one by one, his movements savage and unrelenting. Gone was the conflicted man Kaelen had seen in the cell—this was a warrior, consumed by righteous fury.

Kaelen watched for a moment, impressed by Aldric's resolve, before joining the fight. With supernatural speed and precision, he moved through the soldiers like a shadow, disarming and incapacitating them with ease. He kept his promise not to kill unnecessarily, but his blows were calculated to end any resistance swiftly.

Aldric, on the other hand, showed no mercy. Each strike was fueled by his rage and his newfound clarity. These were no longer his people—they were pawns of a corrupt king, the same king who had taken everything from him.

By the time the fight was over, the ground was littered with bodies. Aldric stood in the center of the carnage, his chest heaving, blood staining his hands and clothes. His green eyes burned with a mixture of triumph and sorrow.

Kaelen stepped forward, placing a hand on Aldric's shoulder. "You chose well," he said quietly, his tone neither scolding nor sympathetic. "Now let's finish this."

Aldric nodded, his jaw set with determination. Together, they turned toward the castle, ready to confront the king and end this nightmare once and for all.

The grand doors to the throne room burst open with a thunderous crack, Kaelen and Aldric stepping into the opulent chamber. Blood stained their weapons and armor as they advanced cautiously, the echoes of their earlier battle still ringing in their ears.

But they stopped short, their breath catching at the sight before them.

The king sat slumped on his throne, his crown tilted awkwardly on his head, his lifeless eyes wide with shock. Blood trickled down from an arrow lodged deep in his neck, its sleek design unmistakably elven. The once-grand ruler was reduced to a grotesque tableau, his body still as a grim reminder of his violent end.

Aldric froze, his brow furrowing in disbelief. "This… this wasn't part of the plan," he muttered, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. His voice wavered with a mixture of confusion and unease. "This was an assassination."

Kaelen stepped closer to the throne, his golden eyes narrowing as he inspected the arrow. The craftsmanship was precise, unmistakable in its origins. But his mind quickly moved to one person. "You're thinking it was Aelor," Kaelen said, more a statement than a question, his tone calm but firm.

Aldric hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Who else could it be? That arrow—it's elven. It's too perfect, too deliberate."

Kaelen's gaze shifted from the arrow to Aldric. "No," he said with conviction. "It's not Aelor. He wouldn't resort to violence, not even for this. He despises bloodshed more than anyone I've ever known."

Aldric looked skeptical, his expression hard. "You're certain? Because if it's not him, then who?"

Kaelen stepped back, his mind racing. The scene before them was deliberate, calculated. Whoever had done this had wanted the king dead—but also wanted to make a statement. The choice of weapon wasn't just for efficiency; it was meant to send a message.

"Think about it," Kaelen said, his voice steady but edged with tension. "If Aelor wanted revenge, he wouldn't go behind my back to do it. He'd confront the king face-to-face, demand justice—not deliver it in the shadows."

Aldric's grip on his sword loosened slightly, though his expression remained conflicted. "Then who?" he asked again, quieter this time.

Kaelen turned his gaze back to the corpse, his jaw tightening. "Someone who wanted to shift the blame. Someone who wanted to frame the elves and ignite the conflict we've been trying to avoid."

A heavy silence fell between them as they both stared at the body, the implications sinking in.

Aldric finally spoke, his voice grim. "If this is a setup, then whoever did this wanted more than just the king dead. They wanted war."

Kaelen nodded. "And they're counting on us to deliver it for them."

As they moved swiftly through the corridors of the castle, Aldric broke the tense silence. His voice was low, almost bitter.

"I won't lie," he said, his grip tightening on his sword. "I'm glad the king is dead. He was a tyrant and a hypocrite, using people as pawns in his twisted game." He paused, his jaw clenching. "But this... this won't go over well with the public. Not with an elven arrow as the murder weapon."

Kaelen glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "You think this will spark something bigger?"

Aldric nodded grimly. "Absolutely. Humans already harbor distrust toward elves. This will fuel that fire into an inferno. They'll see it as proof that the elves are out to destroy them."

Kaelen frowned, his mind racing. "It's exactly what whoever did this wanted. Divide and conquer. Stir hatred between humans and elves, and let the chaos do the rest."

Aldric let out a frustrated sigh. "And the worst part is, they'll use this as a justification for more bloodshed. The humans will demand retaliation, and the council will likely retaliate in turn."

Kaelen stopped for a moment, his golden eyes locking with Aldric's. "Do you think we can stop it?"

Aldric hesitated, then shook his head. "Not unless we find whoever is behind this and expose them. But even then, it might be too late. Rumors spread faster than the truth, and people love their convenient villains."

Kaelen's expression hardened. "Then we need to move fast. If this escalates, it won't just be war between humans and elves—it'll be the end of any chance for peace."

Aldric's expression turned grim as he motioned for Kaelen to follow him down the dimly lit corridor. "I know where she is," he muttered, his voice heavy with both determination and dread. "He always kept her in his private chambers."

Kaelen frowned, his golden eyes scanning their surroundings. The silence was deafening, and the absence of guards unnerving. "It's too quiet," he said, his tone sharp. "Where are all the men? The king had guards everywhere when we entered."

Aldric didn't stop, his focus fixed ahead. "I don't care where they are," he said through gritted teeth. "If they've abandoned him, good. It makes finding her easier."

Kaelen glanced around warily but said nothing, following Aldric's quickened pace. They moved through the castle's winding hallways, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows that danced eerily along the walls.

When they reached the ornate double doors of the king's bedroom, Aldric paused, his hand hovering over the handle. He hesitated, his breath shaky as he prepared himself for what might lie beyond. "If she's in there…" he began, his voice breaking slightly.

Kaelen placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Then we get her out," he said evenly. "No matter what."

Aldric nodded, his resolve strengthening as he pushed the doors open.

The sight that greeted them made both men freeze in place. The room was suffocating with opulence, yet the stench of cruelty lingered in the air. On the large bed, Aldric's sister lay motionless, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her body, thin and frail, was covered in bruises, and her once-bright eyes were dim with despair.

Aldric rushed forward, his breath catching in his throat. "Lia," he whispered, his voice breaking as he knelt beside the bed. He reached out but hesitated, his hand trembling.

Kaelen stayed by the doorway, his expression cold but his jaw clenched tightly. The scene before him burned into his mind, a bitter reminder of the depths of human cruelty. "The guards," he murmured, almost to himself. "Why would they leave her unprotected?"

Aldric didn't seem to hear him. He collapsed to the floor, his hands clutching his head as sobs wracked his body. "I failed you," he choked out. "I let this happen. I let him… I let him…" His voice broke, and he slammed his fists against the cold stone floor, his anguish reverberating through the chamber.

Aldric knelt at the side of the bed, his trembling hands reaching out as if afraid to touch her. Tears streamed down his face, his sobs muffled against his fists as he beat the cold stone floor beneath him. "I failed you," he choked out, his voice hoarse. "I should've taken you away. I should've done something—anything."

His sister's vacant gaze didn't shift, her lips barely moving in a whisper that was too faint to hear. Aldric's cries grew louder, echoing in the grotesque silence of the chamber. His fists slammed against the stone again and again, leaving his knuckles bloodied.

Kaelen finally stepped forward, his movements deliberate but quiet. "Aldric," he said softly, but there was an edge to his tone that demanded attention. "This isn't helping her."

Kaelen carefully lifted the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around Lia's frail form, supporting her delicate body as he cradled her gently. Her eyes, though blank and empty, seemed to flicker slightly as if hearing the soft sounds of movement around her. Kaelen glanced at Aldric, his gaze firm but filled with silent empathy. "We don't have time for grief now. We need to get her out of here. She's safe with us."

Aldric looked as if he had been frozen in place, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he struggled to regain control of his emotions. He was visibly shaken, his eyes flickering between Kaelen and his sister's form.

"Come on, Aldric," Kaelen said gently, but with an undeniable command in his voice. "We move now, or we don't move at all."

The urgency in Kaelen's tone was enough to break through Aldric's daze. He wiped his face, took a shaky breath, and nodded. "Right. Let's go."

With that, Kaelen moved toward the door, carefully supporting Lia in his arms. Aldric followed close behind, his steps heavy, his face filled with a quiet fury.

As they descended the grand staircase of the castle, the weight of the moment settled over them. Kaelen's mind raced—This was the beginning of something far bigger than any of them realized*. They couldn't just escape; they had to ensure their future didn't echo the horrors of the past.

"Kaelen," Aldric's voice was strained but firm. "How old is she?" His eyes flickered to his sister's fragile form, his voice thick with a mix of sorrow and rage.

Kaelen's gaze darkened. "Fourteen," he answered, his voice soft but edged with fury. "Just a child. But the king saw her as nothing more than a toy—a possession to be kept, broken, and discarded at will. She wasn't the first, but we'll make sure she's the last."

Aldric's fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms as his anger flared. The thought of his sister being violated, exploited by the king, was more than he could bear. The betrayal he felt, not just from the king but from himself for not being there, consumed him.

They reached the lower levels of the castle, and Kaelen's sharp senses alerted him to the unnatural silence in the halls. The guards, the usual security measures, were all absent—likely part of the chaos surrounding the king's assassination. Kaelen paused momentarily, his eyes scanning the shadows.

"We'll have to move quickly," he muttered under his breath. "They may be gone for now, but they'll be looking for us soon."

Aldric's heart pounded in his chest as they reached the castle gates, the cold wind whipping through the courtyard as the night air pressed in around them. Kaelen stepped out into the night, keeping Lia close to him, moving silently through the shadows. Aldric kept pace, his eyes constantly scanning for any sign of pursuit.

"We're almost there," Kaelen said, his voice steady. "Stay sharp."

Aldric gave a grim nod, his determination now matching Kaelen's. They had lost too much already. No more. The king's reign would end tonight, and Aldric would make sure it didn't leave a mark on his sister.

As they moved toward their escape, the sound of horses' hooves in the distance carried on the wind. A wave of dread passed over Kaelen as he looked toward Aldric, who turned to him with a fierce expression.

"We can't stay here any longer," Kaelen said. "Let's go."

They rode off into the night, their mission clear. The past couldn't be undone, but the future? It was still theirs to shape.