Pieces From a Kingdom
Prologue
Cold. Dark. Dead. These words were the only description one could use tell of what was left of the once great city of Onyia. It was once a thriving city, the capital of the nation, world leader of trades and exports. But that dammned assassin ruined everything. He broke in and took out the front guards. It left us vulnerable to attack, which King Jaghonyn used to his advantage. Curse that greedy leader! He charged in with his whole army and destroyed everyhing in the city. The warning bells were too late.
But that is later in the story. Let me start at the beginning.
I am King Carallas, ruler of the Therod Empire. We covered most of the continent in terms of land. We were powerful, but also smart. We never lost a battle and nobody was dumb enough to challenge us. I guess thats why we lost so easily. We weren’t expecting it. But we’re getting off track.
The day started out like any other. I finished up the royal court, which was always short for me, and decided to go on a walk around the town. It was always relaxing to me. The spring sun shone overhead, and flowers could be seen popping out of the ground. It wouldn’t be long before they were in bloom. As I was walking around the corner, a young girl came up to me and held up a flower.
“Here, Mister King. This is for you.” She had said. “It’s the first to bloom in the city.”
I had been so warmed by the gesture that i had given the little girl a hug. She smiled and ran off, and i could hear her telling her family that she had been hugged by the king. Oh, to be young.
And now I walk that sem street and see it abandonded. Burnt and bombed beyond repair.
After the little girl had gone, i turned the corner and came face to face with a group of townsfolk. They let me pass with no trouble, but it was out of respect, not fear. A little girl ran by with her friends, but bumped in to me. Her frieds looked terrified, as if i might smite them for touching me, but I instead helped the girl up and gave her the flower before going on my way. I smiled as i heard the children whispering happily.
Later on that same road, there was a puppet show with several children and ther families. One child whispered something to me and I nodded before sneaking behind the curtain. I popped up in front of the puppet and acted like a big, bad monster whom he had to slay. The children and family loved it, and the child who had whispered to me looked espessially pleased.
Now, that location of the puppet show is overgrown with weeds and bushes.
Wait, what was that?
Someone’s comming. I gotta hide.
There! An ally way!
A soldier from King Jaghonyn’s army. Making sure all the citizens are dead, I’m sure. He’s gone now. Where was I…
Now that i think about it, I remember how not long after the puppet show, i had sent one of King Jaghonyn’s captured soldiers to the dungeons. He probably escaped in the battle. I remember how terrified the soldiers had been of me… and now they would charge me with no problem.
Once the soldier had been taken to the dungeons, I had walked around town more. I waved to a few citizens, an old women named Ferath. She had been like a second mother to me in my childhood.
The castle… Vines grow all along the walls now. It is unusable.
I remember how that night, i had sat in my throne with my son and wife as the royal joker juggled and did tricks for my dear child. She had been so happy. Nobody knew of what was to happen next…
An assassin snuck to the front gates. He used a small sythe to kill the front guard silently, then opened the gates and slipped inside. He set up dynomite on one of the side walls, then ignited it before anyone could notice it was there. Jaghonyn’s army flodded in through the hole in the wall. We were unprepared and outnumberd. We stood no chance.
Still, our army fought bravely. I heard the warning bells as a citzen stumbled in to the throne room. He was covered in blood and hd arrows sticking out of him from several spots. His arm, his stomach, even his knee. It was a wonder he could walk at all. He managed to tell me that we were being attacked before he died in front of me. I ordered the gurads in the room to go help fight. I took off my crown and placed it on an armour stand, grabbing the silver and gold armour that adourned it. The blade that was next to it… It had been enchanted by a witch long ago. The magic hum could be heard when you swung the blade, But I knew even magic might not save us.
And now I stand here, in the same throne room, holding the same crown. It is stained with some blood form my warriors, and cracked from the heat of the fire. I can’t stop myself. I start to cry.
I ran out in to the warzone. The fighting was vicious. I can’t remember most of it, the adreneline made my vision blurry. But I remember seeing the evil king himself. Every time I tried to get to him, his army would stop me and I’d loose him. He used some kind of magic to avoid me. How did he know magic? Only a chosen few are taught.
The army was too numorous. I had to retreat. I went back to the castle and grabbed my wife and son. We ran towords the emergancy exit in the dungeons, and hit the bride between the throe room and dungeons. Warriors, these ones with gunpowder weapons, had caught up with us. The army shot packets of gunpowder with flames at the end. As soon as they hit the ground, they exploded. The force of the blast knocked us back. The bridge now had a hole in it, but we could still make it. The warriors had to reload. We could push past them. I took a tighter hold on my wife and ran. But we were too slow. The warriors fired again. The blast ripped me and my wife apart from each other. She was blown back, towords the warriors, while I was shot towords the dungeons. There was no way to cross. I had to leave her.
The decision haunts me to this very day.
I ran up the stairs. In my grief-stricken panic, I had forgotten the dungeons were down. I got cornered at the balcony. The warriors were closing in. I had no choice.
I gave a salute. And I fell backwards. Down off the tower. Down to the moat below. Down to my death.