Ryaconia, 2007.
12 hours remaining before the escape to Raycania.
Inside of the castle walls, Jonathan was walking down the hallway, following the purple carpet towards the Throne Room of Pom, her sister. As he marches towards the gigantic door, he glances at the beautiful yard a few feet from him. The sweet smell of the flowers blooming, the harmonic chirping of the birds and the fresh wind blowing on his cheek calms his soul
He looks forward again, and sighs, "You know, I'll miss this." He stops, looking at the floor. He clenches his fist and raises his head again. "But, I've had enough of her lies," he muttered to himself.
His brows snap together, and the stomping of his feet grew louder with each time the sole of his shoe tramples over the silk carpet. As he got closer, he starts to gain speed. Soon, he sprinted towards the door.
"POM. . . AMBER!" he yelled at the top of his lungs as he flung the doors wide open.
He jumps into her room, stopping from a few feet before her. Across from him, Pom Amber was lying sideways on a Royal Red couch, with the cushioning resting on a golden frame. She throws a piece of a grape as her shimmery, silky, purple hair fell to the floor. Her cloak designed with the stars in the cosmos rested on top of the couch.
She turned her head around, squinting her eyes as she looks at Jonathan. She gets up and rolls her eyes. She leans her head onto her palm and gives a look of disgust to Jonathan. "What do you want, pillock?" she sneered, her voice filled with condescension.
Jonathan clenches his fist, pointing it towards at Pom. "Why did you send an assassin to our father!" he shouted.
Pom gasps and stands up from her seat. She pulls out her fan and opens it, blowing wind towards her face. "How dare you accuse me of such treachery?! I, Pom Amber, have done no such thing!" she retorted.
Jonathan takes a step forward, his eyes burning with more rage, "You won't believe me? Here, I have proof!"
He reaches into his bag and pulls out a folder. Inside were documents showing 2% of the national budget went into killing their father. As he was about to shove the folders in her face, Pom clutches his wrists. She twists his arms and leaned her face closer to Jonathan's. Her pupils shrank to the size of a needle. She gave him a maniac-like smile that revealed all her teeth.
"Say that again?" she giggled.
Jonathan fixes his glare towards her beady eyes, accompanied by a vein popping out of his head. With his other hand, he waves the document right in front of her eyes. "I have evidence, evidence that proves that you, Pom Michaela Amber, killed our father by—"
Pom yells and grabs his collar. Using her other fist, she punches Jonathan from his chin, making him fall to the floor. He gasps for air as he crawls around the floor, reaching out for the documents.
"Are you insane?! How dare thee accuse me, a true-born Amber, of killing our father?!" she shouted.
She looks down, observing Jonathan as he crawls with struggle towards the folder. She approaches him, and with her high-heels, she steps on her hand. She cackles as Jonathan groans in pain, adding more pressure to his hand with each second.
As she twists her heels, Jonathan raises his head to look at her. He lets out a louder groan as she puts more pressure on her heel. "You witch! I know you did it! People have shown that you did it!" he shouted as tears flowed down from his cheeks.
Pom takes her high-heel off Jonathan's hand. She sneers at him before spitting at his face. "You dare tell me all of that, in your current position? You're nothing but a pathetic mongrel, Jonathan!" she laughed, "I'll recommend you to a psychiatric center since you're quite delusional. You need some help, you pathetic waste of oxygen!"
She laughs again as she kicks Jonathan in his face repeatedly. Each time she slammed the sole of her shoe into his face, her laughter grew louder as blood started coming out of his mouth, tainting her high-heels. Meanwhile, Jonathan cried more and more as his face starts to get bruised with the sharp points of her soles.
She spits at his face one more time, before storming out of the Throne Room, laughing. Jonathan was left alone in the room, lying down on the blood-stained carpet. He cried for his parents as he tries to get up, but his muscles have become numb.
As he tries to push himself up with the remaining of his energy, he could hear footsteps approaching him from the side. He turns his head around, looking up right after. In front of him, an apparition of his father was standing.
His father kneels and places Jonathan's head on his lap, stroking his hair with a sweet, glistening smile. "What's wrong, son?" his father asked in a gentle voice.
Jonathan looks away, shedding a tear, "I'm lost, father. I don't know what to do anymore, except for my last plan.
"Do it, son. You have a golden heart, Jonathan, and I want you to use your heart. Do what is right," his father replied.
"But what about the continent?"
"No longer shall you worry about it, son. This once-great kingdom has fallen after I handed it over to the clutches of your maniacal sister. Bring the revolutionaries, start a new life. That's my last request, son."
His father smiles again, stroking his hair one more time before fading away. Jonathan sheds another tear, before getting up. He walks over to the documents and picks it up, placing it back in his bag.
He wipes off the blood in his cheek, and clenches his fist, "This is all for you, father. I won't let you down."