In the breaths of wind piercing through the corners of the world lie the four designated beings, and on their paths they sweep the thorns of enemies, all of whom may fall under their blades. Here comes their mission, to answer the call of will, and avenge what is already ashen.
The foremost path opens, welcoming the holder of violence, humbly named Axl. With a vengeful heart and a wrathful mind, a warrior fed by wrath awaits the right moment to unleash its might. Violence dancing gracefully on the blood-dripping blades, the man will not hesitate to give his enemies the privilege of tasting the sweetness of death through the beauty of carnage. To the north of Hyram he went, Axl made sure to steer a crimson path on his way to penetrate the precious borders. And the ones that dare to interfere? A foolish choice.
The second path tore open, and the holder of dexterous steps to the light, proudly announced its name as Reid. A machine knew how best to plan its next move. Stealthy and precise, as a feather slowly descends to the icy ground, are his glistering arrows, thundering through the wind to touch the trembling skin of those who fall into his trap. Watch out; all it takes is a blink to feel thousands of hands pulling to the depths of Hell, and Reid will gladly take you there. So be it. What awaits at the ends of those unlucky knights guarding weapon storages in the South? Perhaps, they were already crushed in his hands.
Blessed by the gifts of the forest, Cecil kneels down before the third path. Bearing the names of the unknown, the duty of the forgotten, she takes a deep breath. The faint sound of footsteps from afar sharpens her senses. How unfortunate their outcomes will be. Leaning on the east wind, the holder of poison sends out the scent of death. For her gift shall bring salvation and punishment. Swiftly as the wind, her targets quickly fall to the ground, painfully. Whimpering in their burning bodies, they will never know the cause of their deaths. Summon the fire, the ocean flame falls onto her gaze. The moment she turns away, a shadow falls on her. A strong force hit her back, taking away her consciousness.
Under the flickering light, the black rose danced gracefully along the final route. Bring forth the charm. The holder of seduction promised a regretful fate. In the passionate tone of music, each of their desired gazes glued to her movements. Her beauty shed light on those soldiers. Yet beauty and desire come with a price. For under the glorious black petal, there are sharp thorns awaiting fresh blood. Slowly, tenderly, she awakens the deepest lustful wish, the nature of any man. Slowly, painfully, they couldn’t realize the consequences of their reckless decision. Farewell with honey-glazed songs, Camille sends them back to the hands of death. Her merciless blade goes deep into their hearts. Shattered and destroyed can’t fade away the indulgent lines on their faces. For who has seen heaven, willing to wake from this wild illusion?
Bellum veniet.
Bang… The throne chamber door opened, stepping in a furious Arioch. The consultants immediately throw away the meeting, bow down to him in fright. Never have they witnessed such side of the new King. Perhaps sleepless nights and power have driven him mad. Falls down to the throne, his piercing eyes scanning through each of them. He is demanding an answer. Why could Averi reciprocate this quickly? Who could have known, such weak realm could backstab the crimson dragon fatally? “You.” He points at a consultant, the same one who advised attacking Averi’s port. Guards dragged the poor man outside with a snap, ignoring his screams and begs. This place does not belong to fools. The sudden act from the King surely sends each of the consultants in fear. Don’t even dare to face the master of the crown, they keep their mouth shut. Even when their innocent comrade just paid with his blood. Such frightening and unpredictable power even surpass the former King, Demian Sylvester.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Yet, this isn’t merely enough to chase away the haunting doubts in the King’s mind. Why could his brother, Alderic, could attack such vital areas so precisely? Divided into five, these are the most important soldiers and weapons sources this realm has. The warcry soldier of the north, the remnant of the Lord of the North was once the right hand of Hyram. The left hand, elites of Sylvester’s troops were slaughtered mysteriously in the south. The bows and blades of the east are now nothing but ashes in the devouring flame. And the west? The mighty clan was now a mere myth. Left only the vulnerable capital, the dragon’s heart. Scrolling around each one, suspicions fill the air. All of this, can’t be coincidental.
Fortune seems to smile on him again as, in chains, comes the familiar figure. Hidden behind the crimson hair, the gaze fixed on him fills with wrath. “Oh? What do I have here?” a cold smile drawn on his face as Arioch approached her. His hand grabs Cecil’s chin, forcing her to look into the King’s empty eyes. “So, you are the little brat sabotaging my plan.” The burn in her eyes speaks for itself. “Tell me, how was my brother?” The hand on her chin tightened, sending a ray of pain. His threatening behavior only makes her grin. “Better King than you.” A strong slap falls upon her in everyone’s awe at the kicks of the guards. Spilling the stocking blood out of her mouth, Cecil laughed out loud. “Don’t mess with fire, little girl, remember how your lover died?”
“I remembered every second of it.” Cecil laughs coldly. “I’ll make sure to carve our revenge in each of your cells.” Like an arrow, she left a scratch on his hand. He recoils in disgust as blood hints at the newly opened wound.
“Every man in Hyram will have to join the army.” Arioch orders right after Cecil is pushed away to the cell. The decision sent waves of hesitation among the consultants. “Your majesty, please consider. They are not qualified for wars.” Before such arrogant response from his brother, how could he back down? Not to mention, the little prey on his palm. No, he is not a coward like their father. Peace is nothing without power. With a single-hand motion, the consultant forcefully drags to outside the castle. Soon, his head will join his comrade on the castle’s wall. A bloody lesson for those who choose not to obey. Young boys and men all over the land were forced to bid goodbye to their homes, and their families for a hopeless path of sacrifice. A future drawn by their blood and tears. Their voices are merely whispers to the orders of the monarch.
“Make sure to take care of the prisoner carefully. Can’t destroy such lovely gift.” Arioch smirked dangerously. “Send words to Averi. War shall come.”
Again, blood shall dye the dragon’s wings.
Oderint dum metuant.