“Friends, family, colleagues. We have long lived in an age of treachery, treason, espionage… And in many cases, flat-out assassination. My late father was as much a perpetrator of these crimes as a victim of them, so I too can say that my family was not immune to this terrible corruption. That is why I seek to put an end to our people’s suffering, and to the meaningless struggle for power!” the speech had been well-practiced. Ever since he was a child, Halim had been writing it, sickened with his people’s brutality. Changes would be made, when he was king. Now that he was king, he could have the peaceful world from his dreams.
The drow nobles did not seem to agree. An arrow zoomed past his right ear, and he stopped speaking, shocked. Perhaps it was naïve, but this was hardly the reaction he had envisioned from his people. Accolades for the wise King Halim, perhaps. Celebrations of the man who finally brought peace to the drow.
Instead, he found himself in the midst of an assassination attempt. Another arrow flew at him, knocking the crown right off his head as it impaled its lustrous silk. He acted on instinct, knowing he would not get lucky again. Behind the throne. Out the door. He ran as fast as his legs could possibly carry him, toward his chamber. He didn’t have time to pack more than the bare essentials. Just as he grabbed the mask from the previous year’s ball, stuffing it into his bag, three of the soldiers from his own guard burst through the doors, weapons drawn. He drew his rapier, shaking. “Are you on the side of corruption, or peace?!”
“I think you’re confusing peace and cowardice, Prince,” the drow woman spat. “You don’t deserve the crown.”
“Perhaps not… But deserving the crown has never been a prerequisite before now, if our previous nobility is any indication,” he backed toward the window, glancing out… No good. He was on the top floor, and there was nothing on the outside to grab hold of. A fall from this height would, without a doubt, kill him. “The kings and queens of the drow have lacked honor from the beginning.”
“You… Ingrate! Brat! Heathen!” the woman charged straight at him, attempting to push him out the open window. He jumped out of the way, stabbing the woman with his rapier as she just barely managed to right herself enough not to fall out the window herself.
The next soldier ran at him, lunging with his own rapier and drawing blood from his Majesty’s arm. The third, too, was upon him, a beautiful young lady whose blade connected with his leg. Her voice barely more than a whisper, the words escaped her mouth, “I’m sorry, Prince Halim.”
“King… As of this day, Asra, I am king,” he whispered, his words striking a strange sort of chord as he stepped aside, starting to slide away from the window. His voice gained confidence, and with it, volume. “It is my divine right to serve my people, and to bring them peace! I was born with a mission from the nine moons, to rid this land of corruption and sorrow!”
“Your father was twice the king you’ll ever be,” the injured woman stepped in front of him, cutting him off from his escape route. Her rapier swung wide of him, missing by a mile in her fury. “Your divine right is to die here, by our hands!”
As he dodged the male soldier’s rapier as well, Asra saw her chance. She calculated her strike carefully and lunged, getting him between the plates of his leather armor. He cringed and screamed as she twisted the blade and pulled it back, covered in his blood. Her smile was gentle and apologetic. “This… is the way it has to be.”
“No… Asra, don’t you see? This is exactly what I’m trying to change. It doesn’t have to be like this anymore. The generations of suffering our people have faced can finally end,” once again, that strange chord was in his voice, but this time, it held a feeling of danger as well. He kept his rapier at the ready, ready to parry attacks if necessary. By the time the trio realized what he was doing, the sound itself had solidified into crystalline shards, raining down upon them. Bleeding heavily, the two women collapsed to the ground.
The remaining soldier looked Halim in the eyes, almost pleadingly… He too was injured, the sound having done intense damage. “Is it true that you love Asra?”
“What of it? You take love as a sign of weakness as well?” he frowned deeply, still not letting his guard down.
“If it is, then I am as weak as you are, Halim. I beg you, let me treat Amani, and I will let you treat Asra. When they are stable, you can kill me for all I care… As long as she lives, your majesty, my life means nothing.”
“You’re just as afraid to die as I am. Don’t try to act so brave,” he knelt next to Asra, tearing a bit of cloth from his garments to tend to her wounds. When the bleeding was controlled, he stood. “Let me leave this place in peace, and your life will be spared.”
“It’s strange… I don’t know if you’re being merciful, or if you’re simply afraid to kill me.”
The drow nobles did not seem to agree. An arrow zoomed past his right ear, and he stopped speaking, shocked. Perhaps it was naïve, but this was hardly the reaction he had envisioned from his people. Accolades for the wise King Halim, perhaps. Celebrations of the man who finally brought peace to the drow.
Instead, he found himself in the midst of an assassination attempt. Another arrow flew at him, knocking the crown right off his head as it impaled its lustrous silk. He acted on instinct, knowing he would not get lucky again. Behind the throne. Out the door. He ran as fast as his legs could possibly carry him, toward his chamber. He didn’t have time to pack more than the bare essentials. Just as he grabbed the mask from the previous year’s ball, stuffing it into his bag, three of the soldiers from his own guard burst through the doors, weapons drawn. He drew his rapier, shaking. “Are you on the side of corruption, or peace?!”
“I think you’re confusing peace and cowardice, Prince,” the drow woman spat. “You don’t deserve the crown.”
“Perhaps not… But deserving the crown has never been a prerequisite before now, if our previous nobility is any indication,” he backed toward the window, glancing out… No good. He was on the top floor, and there was nothing on the outside to grab hold of. A fall from this height would, without a doubt, kill him. “The kings and queens of the drow have lacked honor from the beginning.”
“You… Ingrate! Brat! Heathen!” the woman charged straight at him, attempting to push him out the open window. He jumped out of the way, stabbing the woman with his rapier as she just barely managed to right herself enough not to fall out the window herself.
The next soldier ran at him, lunging with his own rapier and drawing blood from his Majesty’s arm. The third, too, was upon him, a beautiful young lady whose blade connected with his leg. Her voice barely more than a whisper, the words escaped her mouth, “I’m sorry, Prince Halim.”
“King… As of this day, Asra, I am king,” he whispered, his words striking a strange sort of chord as he stepped aside, starting to slide away from the window. His voice gained confidence, and with it, volume. “It is my divine right to serve my people, and to bring them peace! I was born with a mission from the nine moons, to rid this land of corruption and sorrow!”
“Your father was twice the king you’ll ever be,” the injured woman stepped in front of him, cutting him off from his escape route. Her rapier swung wide of him, missing by a mile in her fury. “Your divine right is to die here, by our hands!”
As he dodged the male soldier’s rapier as well, Asra saw her chance. She calculated her strike carefully and lunged, getting him between the plates of his leather armor. He cringed and screamed as she twisted the blade and pulled it back, covered in his blood. Her smile was gentle and apologetic. “This… is the way it has to be.”
“No… Asra, don’t you see? This is exactly what I’m trying to change. It doesn’t have to be like this anymore. The generations of suffering our people have faced can finally end,” once again, that strange chord was in his voice, but this time, it held a feeling of danger as well. He kept his rapier at the ready, ready to parry attacks if necessary. By the time the trio realized what he was doing, the sound itself had solidified into crystalline shards, raining down upon them. Bleeding heavily, the two women collapsed to the ground.
The remaining soldier looked Halim in the eyes, almost pleadingly… He too was injured, the sound having done intense damage. “Is it true that you love Asra?”
“What of it? You take love as a sign of weakness as well?” he frowned deeply, still not letting his guard down.
“If it is, then I am as weak as you are, Halim. I beg you, let me treat Amani, and I will let you treat Asra. When they are stable, you can kill me for all I care… As long as she lives, your majesty, my life means nothing.”
“You’re just as afraid to die as I am. Don’t try to act so brave,” he knelt next to Asra, tearing a bit of cloth from his garments to tend to her wounds. When the bleeding was controlled, he stood. “Let me leave this place in peace, and your life will be spared.”
“It’s strange… I don’t know if you’re being merciful, or if you’re simply afraid to kill me.”
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