Prince Hector stood over his brother's coffin, hot tears welling up in his eyes. Using the sleeves of his shirt he dabbed at his eyes leaving dark splotches on his shirt. Looking down at the dead King, his brother, he felt shame and humiliation like never before. The King, his brother had died on his watch, he had failed. Not only had he failed his brother, he had failed his Kingdom.
His brother's face was ghastly, wax-like, devoid of life, his hair brittle and gray, not even an echo of his former handsome self. When he had been alive, Hector and his brother did not agree completely, in fact, Hector knew his brother disliked him, envious of his martial prowess, his Auctoritas. Truthfully Hector also hated the King, he loved his brother, but as a King his inadequacy was staggering.
“Brother, we have both failed our Kingdom. I feel as if every action I took for the Kingdom pushed us further and further apart,” he voiced, kneeling in front of his brother’s body, tears dripping down his chin. “I thought if I were strong, I could help you carry the burden of the crown, instead they compared us, whispering that I should be king. When our Kingdom was suffering the most, I left, leaving you with no one to turn to.”
At this point he could not stop the torrent of tears, hot streaks running down his face in an endless stream. “I now wonder if I should have forcefully taken the crown from you. If I did, would you still be alive?”
Squeezing his dripping eyes shut, Hector balled his hands into fists, the act causing his arms to tremble. He knew all the suffering his brother had caused, knew that if Alfred had died sooner the Kingdom would still be prosperous, still be the envy of every kingdom around it. However, the longer he sat with the body of his brother, the more memories of his older brother came flooding in, the memory of his brother carrying him on his back when he was too tired, teaching him how to fight, and protecting him from the outside world. Deep down he still viewed Alfred as his older brother, someone who had promised to protect him. Reaching out to grasp his brother’s cold hand, Hector swore.
“Let the heavens bear witness. I, Hector Salizia, swear eternal enmity to the ones responsible for my brother's death.”
Standing up he turned, calling out. “Todo, I know you are there. You do not need to worry about me.”
“My Lord.”
Todo stepped out from near the room's entrance, a look of concern on his face.
“How are your wounds fairing?” Hector asked, limping to the table, trying to change the topic.
“All of my wounds are superficial, my Lord. Nothing of concern.”
“Make sure to keep it clean. I suggest you use one of the healing potions we bought from Lundale.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Sitting down at the table, Hector felt a wave of nausea hit him, the room spinning dangerously. The poison he drank was still in his system, his body unable to detox the polluted energy circulating along his Aether Passageway.
“I need a full report on everything that happened the night of the assault,” he finally said, taking deep breaths.
“My Lord, we have lost thirty Pillars, and fifty-two members of the Royal Guard. There have also been signs that the assassins broke into the Royal Treasury and stole priceless items. If I were to guess, they took over a year’s worth of gold from us,” Todo reported, reading from a piece of paper he held in his hand. “I have a full list here.”
Hearing the news, Hector felt his heart sink. A year’s worth of gold was painful, but what was truly devastating was losing the Pillars. Each Pillar of the Kingdom was responsible for leading one hundred men, and out of the fifty Pillars stationed at the capital, thirty of them had died. With the death of the Pillars, the command structure of the Salizian military would be in disarray.
“Were all of the Pillars Arcane Warriors?” he asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes, my Lord. Three of them were Arcane Knights.”
Ancestors, Hector muttered to himself as the gravity of the situation sunk in. It was worse than he had hoped for. Most kingdoms on the continent calculated their strength by the number of Arcane Knights they had, and losing three of them was unacceptable.
“I want you to set up an investigation team. We need to find out how they got in, and everything they did while they were in the castle. As for the items stolen from the treasury…” Hector fell silent, searching his memories.
“Give me the list of items that are left. I seem to recall Kina mentioning a detailed list of what was in the treasury, but I don’t remember much of it. I’ll go compare the two.”
“Yes, my lord, but I can have someone else investigate it. You should be resting.”
“No. I need to do something-anything. This task won’t strain my body, so I will do it.”
“I understand, my lord. And as for the King's death? Should we announce it to the public?”
A heavy silence filled the room as Hector closed his eyes tightly. Focusing on the pressure behind his eyes, he slowly calculated the best course of action.
“No.” He finally opened his eyes. “Issue a royal gag order. No one is to leak that the King has died to the public. We must first secure our borders and army. The loss of our King and Pillars not only threatens us from other Kingdoms but also invites the disgruntled Great Lords of our lands to rise up against us. We must have time to restructure our army before we can announce my brother’s death.”
“Understood, my lord.”
Walking up to Todo, Hector took the detailed list of remaining items in the Royal Treasures from him. “I’ll go compare the two now. I need you to look into the assassins.”
“Yes, my lord.”
As Todo hurried away, Hector slowly walked to the royal archives, the long hallways causing him to pause frequently. After what felt like an eternity, he finally stood before House Salizia’s archive room, its thick door worn from decades of use. Grunting with the effort, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the smell of old parchments and aged wood filling his lungs as he panted hard.
The interior of the room used as the archive was small, but rows of books and scrolls lined the walls and shelves, small specs of dust lingering in the air. Heavily sitting down on a wooden chair, Hector took a moment to regain his breath, tasting iron as he meditated deeply, willing his body to ignore the pain. As soon as it was possible to move without wincing in pain, he walked to the nearest section holding the newer records. Reaching for a scroll he started to search.
Finding the list was much easier than Hector had expected, the desired list stacked in a small pile of loose pages. Flipping through the other pages in the stack, Hector frowned, each page in the stack of papers was identical to each other. Why do we have so many identical copies of what’s in the Royal Treasury? he thought to himself as he selected one at random. Well, I can worry about that later. Right now, I need to figure out what was stolen from us.
Carrying the page he had selected over to a desk against the wall, Hector began the tedious but fairly straightforward task of comparing the list he had just retrieved with the one Todo had given him. After a few minutes of crossing out matching items, he was left with a list of what was missing from the treasury.
Most of these items make sense, Hector sighed to himself as he went down the list, his eyes carefully studying each entry. The items that were taken were small yet valuable treasures that could be easily carried off-objects that could fit beneath a large cloak, hidden from view. As he continued, a sense of unease settled over him. “Ancestors, they knew exactly what to take,” he hissed. “They must had help from someone on the inside!” Clutching his hands into tight fists, he finished comparing the two lists, his eyes locking onto the only item he didn’t recognize-a small wooden box.
Now, what are you? Hector wondered as he stared at the entry, trying to remember ever seeing such an item in the treasury. The longer he looked, the more convinced he became that this item was important to his family-he just couldn’t remember why. Scratching his head in frustration, he looked around him. I am in the archive room. If there is anything about this wooden box, it’s going to be here. I’m too weak to help Todo, so I might as well look into this wooden box. Taking a deep breath, he reached for another scroll.
As the hours wore on Hector's patience started to wane, so far there was no mention of a wooden box anywhere in the records. Putting the old records of historic famines and the cost they incurred on the royal family back on the shelf, he rolled his shoulders loosening his tight muscles. This is going nowhere, he thought as he sighed and shuffled up to another scroll.
The scroll was older than the others around it, the brittle paper on the verge of crumbling in his hands. Taking hold of it gingerly, he brought it back to the desk he was using. Carefully unrolling the delicate scroll, he once again started the laborious task of reading, skimming lines of dense forgotten words.
Reaching the mid-section of the scroll, Hector felt his eyes widen, his tired mind slowly possessing what he had just read. The section mentioned a medical potion given to the newly created Vanura Kingdom, a gift from the High Elves. A gift placed in a small wooden box! This must be what he was looking for! Carefully rereading then rereading the section again, he fell into a deep thought, a frown on his face.
Hearing the door to the archive open, Hector glanced up and saw Todo walk in. Raising his voice, he called out, “Todo, listen to this.” Clearing his throat, he began reading out loud the events his family had long forgotten.
“During the founding years of The Vanura Kingdom, the war between the High Elves and the Old Terrors started to favor the Terrors. Seeing this, humanity sided with the Elves, knowing full well that the Old Terrors would try to re-institute the human offerings of ages past.
“Fighting for the future of humanity, the Kingdoms of men sent the full might of their armies against the Old Terrors. Thus, the war over our souls began.”
Moving to a section below, he continued reading aloud, his throat dry. “After the war, as a token of gratitude, the High Elf King gifted House Salizia a medical potion that he had created using the heart of Skuro, God King of the rotten woods.” Looking up at Todo, Hector paused for a moment before finishing, “A medical potion that was kept in a plain wooden box.”
“My lord?”
Remembering he had not informed Todo about the wooden box, Hector reached for the list of remaining items and pointed at the box. “One of the items that was stolen from us was a wooden box. A wooden box given to us by the High Elves.”
“How could this be!” Todo gasped, eyes wide and mouth opened in shock and disbelief, his voice cracking. “A medicine, made from the body of a God King? A medicine given to us as a gift from the King of the High Elves. How was this not guarded with more care? Why was it not kept as a family heirloom? Why did King Alfred not use it to cure his body?” Stammering, face pale he continued. “How could we have just learned of this?
Disappointed in his ancestors for forgetting this knowledge, Hector turned back to the scroll, finding the section his finger was still marking. Wetting his throat he spoke. “In the scroll, it mentioned that Skuro was killed by the combined power of the Dragon God and the Elves, some thousand years before the war with the Old Terrors. The potion was created then. According to this, the potion’s potency was too strong for all but the strongest Arcane Grandmaster.”
Looking up from the scroll Hector concluded. “There are currently three known Arcane Grandmasters in the world, this potion is useless to everyone but them. Unless they start to fight each other, no one would have any use for it. Not counting our Kingdom's founder, there has never been a Grandmaster within our Kingdom or the Kingdoms around us, it is natural for us to forget about it.”
Eying the scroll with suspicion Todo asked. “Can we trust what is written in the scroll?”
Putting the ancient scroll on the desk, Hector stared at it. “As with all things I suspect some truths and lies within the scroll. We know Dragons are no longer alive, if they were, we would all be living under their rule. They are now ancient stories. But one thing that is a fact, is that the Elves gave us something valuable when our Kingdom was founded. We just have no way of verifying if this is the missing box or if it’s something else entirely.”
“What should we do about it, My lord?”
“There’s nothing more we can do at the moment,” Hector said, exhaling forcefully out of frustration. “We must find out who attacked us and how they knew what to take. What have you found out about the attack?”
Shaking himself out of his daze, Todo adjusted his posture before reporting his findings. “After interviewing all of the active guards, and considering the places our guards died, we were able to put together what we think is the path the assassins took.”
“And?” Hector pressed.
“The assassins knew our patrol plan. They deliberately targeted our Pillars.” There was anger in Todo’s voice. “There is only one conclusion, someone let them in from a side gate. That would mean…”
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“We have a mole. A high-ranking member of our army,” finished Hector, gripping his hands tightly. He knew someone had helped them, but knowing what items were in the treasury and knowing the patrol plans were worlds apart. Only someone he trusted would know the patrol plans. “Who was on guard duty at that gate?”
“My Lord, all of the guards responsible for that gate have been killed by the assassins.”
Feeling a headache coming on, Hector looked up at the ceiling, massaging his temple with his right hand. Why did a headache have to hit him now?
“There is another issue, My Lord.”
“What is it?” Hector mumbled, putting his hand down and turning his attention back to Todo.
“When you mentioned Queen Kina and the list of items in the treasury, I remembered that she had been auctioning off royal items for gold. I had my men speak to everyone who might remember what she was doing. We uncovered a list of items she was willing to auction off, which she had been sending to anyone who asked. I have the list with me.”
Reaching over and taking the list from Todo, Hector groaned, silently cursing his brother and his former wife. The list was the same list he had found in the archives, a list of all the items in the Royal Treasury. He now knew why there were so many copies of the list. “So, anyone who was sent the list knows of the wooden box and all the items in the treasury?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Hiding his face in his hands, Hector rubbed his face. “Well, now we know how they found out about what items to take, but that doesn't help us with who sent the assassins, or how they knew what was in the wooden box.” Putting his hands on the desk he glanced at Todo. “Todo, I want you to bolster the guards at the gate and change our patrol patterns. Get in touch with our intelligence network, coordinate an investigation on the assassins, and pay extra attention to the movements of the other Kingdoms.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I will go to Lundale.”
“Lunedale? My lord.”
“The deterioration of my body is too severe, I cannot detox the poison by myself, I must travel to Lundale and receive treatment from the Elves. While there I will also inquire about the medical potion in the wooden box.”
“My lord.” Hector could hear the panic in Todo’s voice. “You can’t go. Without your presence, our Kingdom will be invaded, or a rebellion will happen.”
“I know,” whispered Hector the headache now roaring in his ears. “However, with my current condition, all I can do is try to bluff our enemies. Set up a body double and lock down all information about my health. Remember there is a traitor within our command. And finally,” he let his anger show on his face for the first time. “I want you to swear to me, swear that you will find who was responsible for the death of my brother. If you must kill everyone who is hindering you with the investigation, you have my blessing.”
Hearing his command, Todo’s eyes widened in shock, this was the first time Hector had given such an order. Taking a deep breath, he knelt on the ground. “Yes, my Lord, I swear to you that I will find the ones responsible for this act.”
Kneeling there, with his hand on his chest Todo swore. “I Todo, do swear by my ancestors and the Light of Alumus, that I will find the identity of this traitor.”
Nodding at Todo’s loyalty, Hector helped him up.
“My Lord, as for the Princesses, should we bring them back from Maliri’s?” Todo asked, standing up.
“No,” Hector reluctantly answered, shame causing him difficulty to voice that they both knew. “Keep them with Maliri for the time being. At this moment, I expect his forces to be stronger than ours. We are not strong enough to protect them. Leave them there.”
“Understood.”
“Now, leave me. I need to stabilize my body.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Todo hurried away, Hector fell into deep thought, the severity of the poison, knowledge of the patrol pattern, and the theft of the potion rattling painfully in his head. Something did not add up. If the goal of the attack were the King's death and crippling of the military, why steal the potion? Who would need it? In the entire world, there were only three people who could use it and none of them were hurt, unless… Feeling a chill go down his spine Hector wondered. Is one of the Grandmasters injured? Does he need the potion?
This was something he did not even want to contemplate. Even if one of the Grandmasters believed another was injured, a war between them would be the best outcome. In all likelihood, the whole continent would be pulled into the conflict!
Wishing he had more information, Hector clutched at his head, teeth clenched together tightly. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was playing an unknown game with an unknown opponent, and he had just lost a crucial round. “Who are my enemies?”
Settled deep within the forest by the foot of the western mountains stood the remnants of a small ancient castle, broken and destroyed long before the oldest person in the surrounding area drew breath, its fight against nature lost decades ago. Although outwardly the castle was not much to look at, underneath the ground, long twisting passageways ran in every direction, its purpose and destination no longer relevant.
The two assassins carefully made their way down one of these dark dirty passageways, every sound from the surroundings causing them to pause momentarily. Slowing down slightly as they ventured deeper and deeper into the ruins, they took a moment to study the broken walls that nature had reclaimed decades ago.
“I’ve never heard of people living here," one of the assassins silently signaled with his fingers. His eyes locked onto a bug crawling near his feet.
“Same.” His comrade responded, the sharp movement of his finger cutting the conversation short. “Stay alert!”
Nodding sheepishly at being told off, the first assassin brought his hand to the bandage that was wrapped around his upper arm, reminding himself to stay vigilant. He had been injured during the raid on Castle Salizia, a momentary distraction allowing a soldier to slip past his guard, cutting him on the arm. Luckily, the damage was minimal. After just a few days of rest and frequent rotations of Aether to his arm, he had recovered most of his strength.
Shaking his head to refocus on the task, the assassin crept behind his comrade, the both of them melting into the surrounding shadows, their footsteps a whisper on the stone floor.
As the two responsible for exchanging the wooden box they had acquired from the Royal Treasury with their client, they were specialists within their organization, with an unmatched ability to read people and gather unspoken information. Turning a bend in the narrow corridor they were silently walking down, the two saw the passageway open to a large room, the sound of dripping water echoing off the walls.
Staying hidden in the shadows, the two peered into the room, cautiously assessing the situation. The underground room was ancient, abandoned, smelling like rot and stagnated water, the only light coming from a single torch clutched by a man. The man stood in the center of the room; his face concealed by a hood.
Double-checking their surroundings to ensure they wouldn’t be ambushed, the two assassins cautiously approached their client.
“You’re late,” the hooded man barked, eagerly stretching his hand out.
“The Salizian guards were much more capable than expected, it took longer to erase our trail,” the second assassin whispered reaching under his dark armor and pulling out a plain wooden box. “Are you sure this is what you wanted?”
When the assassins had entered the treasury during the raid, they had expected to find the requested box on a pedestal or carefully placed somewhere. Instead, they found it tossed aside, mixed in with the other cheap items collecting dust.
“Yes, I must check the contents of the box, but I am sure. You will receive your payment afterward.”
Wedging the torch between some broken rubble, the hooded man snatched the wooden box away from the assassins and gingerly opened it, a slight tremor in his hand the only indication of his nervousness. Inside the box, nestled in a cloth of old silk, lay a small white vial.
Frowning internally, the assassins showed no emotions as they tried to calculate the worth of the vial. From what they could see the bottle was worthless, but without knowing what was inside the vial there was no way to truly judge its true value.
Using only his eyes to glance up at his client, the second assassin felt his interest in the item grow, the vulgar smile on their client's face was not even concealed. The value was more than expected. Keeping this newly acquired information in the back of his head, the assassin stretched out his hand.
“Payment.”
They would tell the Guild Master about the unexpected value of the vial when they returned to their headquarters. The Assassin Guild would use this information to their benefit in the near future—there were always people willing to buy such information.
“I trust Red Moon can keep our transaction a secret?” the hooded man voiced, his attention still captivated by what was in his hands.
“Naturally.”
Hearing the assassin's response, the hooded man pulled out a large bag and tossed it to their feet, the clatter of gold loud in the silent room.
The client’s action made the first assassin bare his teeth internally, anger causing him to touch the hidden knife by his side. The disrespect this man showed The Assassin Guild was beyond insulting—it was intolerable, something no one was permitted to do more than once, no matter the amount of gold they had.
Feeling his comrade’s eyes on him, the first assassin kept his bloodlust in check. He was a professional; he wouldn't kill his client—although if he met the man later… Noticing his partner nod at him, then to the bag, he grunted, he had to check the contents of the bag. Keeping his eyes level with the hooded man, he bent down, never breaking eye contact with the man. Reaching down he picked up the bag, feeling the weight of it before swiftly pulling the drawstring apart, exposing the gold coins inside. Taking out a coin at random, he brought it to his mouth, evaluating the authenticity of the gold by biting into it slightly. “It’s good,” he confirmed, putting the coin back into the bag and pulling the drawstring closed. Expertly taking the bag, he hid it inside his cloak making it look like it had vanished.
Hearing his words, the second assassin’s body relaxed, the tension in his body loosening a little, the hand that he had also rested on his knife slipping away from his side. This meeting was better than they had expected. “This concludes our business deal. You know how to contact us if you need another job done,” he said.
Taking the hooded man’s silence as affirmation, the first assassin turned to leave, flinching in shock as he noticed a second man standing behind them. Appearing out of the darkness was a stout man, his face covered in shadows, his hands holding a sword, ready to kill. It should have been impossible for a man to hide his presence from the assassins, yet there he stood, a glint of death in his gray eyes.
“Ambush!”
Before the assassin could reach for his knives, he felt a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. Looking down in disbelief, he saw the tip of a sword sprouting out of his abdomen, red blood staining the expertly forged sword. Glancing behind him in agony, he stared in stunned surprise as the hooded man pulled the sword back.
As the hooded man tore the blade from him, the assassin finally felt warm blood running down both sides of his body, a painful flow of bright red blood hitting the dirty floor. Falling to his knees, before pitching forward onto his face, he heard the sound of a body hitting the floor, his partner's head rolling past his vision.
“There is an old saying,” the hooded man said, standing over him, his face no longer covered. “The dead have no voice.”
Lord Bisconti Bovera stood over the dead assassins, watching as their souls departed for the last waters.
“Did we get what we needed?” his brother Tulka asked, wiping his sword on the body of the decapitated assassin, leaving streaks of blood on the dark clothing.
“Come, look at what we acquired!” Lord Bovera excitedly walked over to his brother and opened the wooden box, exposing the vial. “The late Queen’s list of treasures was accurate! The box really was in the Royal Treasury! Her plan to sell everything for gold was a stroke of luck for us. Too bad Alfred killed her for infidelity before we had a chance to buy it from her.” Lord Bovera spat on the ground, cleaning his mouth from saying the dead King's name. “This is the Divine Medicine that Saint Santius has been searching for. With this, your standing within the Great Shrine will be elevated. I suspect we can even ask for assistance with what I have in mind.”
Seeing his brother's face split open in a wide smile, Lord Bovera could not help but laugh. “Take this to the Great Shrine, secure our house's future,” he said passing the box to his brother. I will see to the bodies.”
“I will go right now.” Taking the box, Tulka carefully stashed it within his cloak.
“For House Bovera.”
“For House Bovera.”
Watching his brother depart, Lord Bovera stood between the two dead assassins, evaluating his decisions so far. With the assassination of the King and the theft of the royal treasury, he had officially rebelled against the royal house, well… maybe that had happened when he had started to poison the King, but it did not feel like it at the time.
Looking down at the assassins he had hired, he felt a twinge of regret—not for his actions, never that, but for being pushed this far by the corruption from the Royal House. The once noble and honorable House Salizia had become rotten and incompetent, no longer working for the benefit of the Kingdom. Their heartless actions had forced his hand.
Taking a deep breath of the rancid air, he grimaced as he started to search the dead bodies, making sure that there was no evidence of his brother or him on them. Dragging the dead assassins together once he was satisfied, he quickly reached into the shadows, pulling out a large jar of oil he had hidden beforehand.
Pouring the oil over the assassins, Lord Bovera watched as the oil and blood swirled around each other, reminding himself why he had started down this path. Two decades ago, the barbaric Domibu Tribe from the Southern lands had invaded Vanura, Lord Bovera’s lands their first target. Back then, all the Great Lords were united behind the King, whose reputation and courage were legendary. With a single word from him, all the Great Lords had marched their armies to the southeast, defending Vanura with a vengeance and honor so strong that it was still talked about today. After months of brutal fighting, the kingdom finally managed to drive the barbarians back to where they had come, freeing the southeastern lands from the scourge.
Grabbing the single torch that lit the room, Lord Bovera tossed it onto the bodies, the intense burst of fire causing him to take a step back, the heat almost scorching his hair. Stay firm, he told himself. We’ve passed the point of no return. Turning, he started to make his way back out of the ruins, his mind replaying the events that had happened after the great war, his anger rising.
Despite successfully defending the kingdom from the Domibu, the lands of House Bovera, as the primary battlefield were destroyed. The beautiful golden wheat fields of Bovera were burnt and black, homes and towns torn down by both allies and enemies alike, their inhabitants nowhere to be found. As the days passed, the signs of famine and disease grew endlessly, eventually becoming an epidemic. The Kingdom had won the war, but the lands of Bovera had paid the price, her people the currency.
What happened next planted a seed of hate and mistrust in the once loyal and faithful House Bovera. Rather than sending relief and aid to his people, King Alfred had become infatuated with a commoner he had met at a market during the war, a beautiful woman named Kina. During the time the southeastern lords needed help the most, the King had tossed all responsibilities aside, marrying Kina and giving his new wife’s family absolute power. Soon after, he vanished from the public eye, claiming he needed to spend time with his new wife.
The next decade was one of pain and suffering for the southeast, the man-made famine and epidemic striking the lands of Bovera like a terrible curse, the deaths of its people overtaking the number of people that had died in the war. When Lord Bovera had begged the new Royal Family, now completely composed of Kina’s family for help, the Royal Family had chastised him, telling him that they had beaten back the Domibu for him and that House Bovera owed the Royal Family a debt of gratitude for winning the war.
Adding insult to injury, the Royal Family raised taxes on everyone, supporting their new lavish lifestyle of parties and feasts with the lifesavings of its citizens. As with incompetent people, they did not stop there, they replaced all the generals and government officials who disagreed with them with ones who were loyal to them, ones who shared the same religion as them.
Religion had never been a significant aspect within the Kingdom, but the new royal family had changed that, proclaiming Alumas as the one true path while vilifying Gera, the Earth Goddess worshiped by most. The new queen even banned all public worship of Gera, while enforcing Alumas’ strict laws that prohibited the sale and consumption of alcohol and meat for everyone. Even as a follower of Alumas, Lord Bovera knew Queen Kina had gone too far.
The boiling point between the two religions had come when the queen moved the holy stature of Gera outside the capital and replaced it with one of Alumas. The riots that followed had ravaged all the lands of Vanura.
Just remembering the struggle his people had suffered in the post-war years made Lord Bovera taste bile in his throat. Watching his warriors die in battle did not bother him, but being helpless as women, children, and men starved to death, while the misquoted teachings of Alumas were used as a weapon by the royal family, had been too much for him. House Salizia had to pay! Even with the return of prince Hector, and his restructuring of the Kingdom, it was far too late, the dead were waist-high and were demanding retribution. Taking a deep breath of the outside air, Lord Bovera knew that nothing could change what he had done. He had already made a deal with the devil, he had killed the King.