Chapter 32: Thirty-two: King Ansell
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Chapter thirty two: King Ansell
"Do you have to go?" Rosemund asked her brother.
Her eyes were tearful and her mouth pouts in disapproval. It was almost mid night and Alexander had sneaked inside her chambers to break the news to her.
He was of adequate body built yet he walked without making a sound of any kind. Evading the guards was actually very easy not that he needed to, he could simply order them to turn a blind eye to his whereabouts or go with the easier option and plunge a dagger into their chest. One thing that was true was there would always be more guards and knights.
No man dared cross Alexander; he takes lives with blinking an eyelid. Women and children were of course off limits, but he had no qualm if his father insists on public flogging as far as he doesn't have to be the one to do it.
His only weakness was his sister, Rosemund. He would kill the entire world to keep her safe, including his father. Alexander had thought about it the last time, King Darius threw Rosemund into a raging river just for the thrills of watching her fight it. Alexander fantasized for days after the situation about ending his father's life. He won't take joy in doing it but he could do it.
Joy should never come at taking a life. Just like he felt nothing when he ordered for the man that stole from the king to be beheaded or the time, he ordered for the native village next to Aradale to be massacre because his father liked the native chief's wife. King Darius had told him to personally oversee the Massacre.
He remembered the proud smile on his father's face when he came back with a bloodied sword and knightly wears. He felt nothing then, just like he felt nothing when his father asked for the chief's wife and he simply told him, he set her on fire and watched as she burned to ashes. The smile had disappeared from his father's face. That was worth watching.
He paid for his actions few days later, when king Darius hired two mercenaries to fight his teenage son, he wasn't as strong as he was then. He hadn't felt his leg for hours and his whole body for days as he was confined to his chambers and the royal doctor treated him. He almost died yet he never regretted his actions.
He stopped feeling years ago. He stopped feeling when he found his father in his mother's chambers with a dagger impaled to her heart. King Darius stared at him as he pulled the dagger out of his mother's chest. He meant for Alexander to watch. King Darius cried as he did it.
He blamed Alexander for what happened. He told him, he had to kill his mother because she made Alexander weak and Alexander believed him. He was never weak again.
King Darius mourned his wife for days and the whole kingdom and beyond was ordered to mourn the dead Queen but not Alexander. He never shed a single tear.
He just stood like a statue as she was set on fire. Rosemund wasn't allowed at the ceremony, Alexander made sure she didn't attend.
Later, when she had asked what happened to their mother, he simply told her that she died because she was very ill and she was happier now, anyway.
It was before he knew the curse he would inherit when he takes the crown. The curse, which his father would pass on to him and Alexander to his son and the son of his son, It took years before Alexander was able to put together that his father might have murdered his mother when he transformed into the creature of the night.
He remembered the day King Darius told him about the cursed Crown. It was a year after his mother succumbed to death. He had sat patiently as his king told him what he was destined to become and do.
"How long have you lived, Xander? Ten and Half?" King Darius had asked him.
"Twelve years, father" he had simply corrected him.
"Then you are old enough to know your fate, crown prince"
It was a long story, one he told for a long time.
King Darius's great grandfather was the greatest warrior to walk the Earth. Back when Aradale was a small kingdom and the king wanted more land. The Eastern hemisphere was the richest part of the Derkal Nation. And Great grandfather Ansell wanted it for himself.
King Ansell went to a small native village rumored to be werewolves and asked them for help in conquering the eastern hemisphere. The tribe was peaceful pack lead by a young woman who also happens to be a priestess. But on the day of the battle, the native werewolves pack refused to fight against the Eastern hemisphere without provocation.
And after he waged war against what was now known as Namura kingdom and was defeated. Namura stripped down Aradale and ship her castle stone by stone.
He went into a fit of rage and murdered the small native tribe, children, women and men all dead because King Ansell's was greed.
Tales were told that the native tribe turned into beasts and killed most of King Ansell's men but they were so outnumbered that no one made it out alive, the young priestess refused to die after being stabbed repeatedly with a silver blade.
King Ansell came down to finish her off when she grabbed her hand and whispered something to him before she took her last breath.
Bothered by the weird occurrence, King Ansell looked throughout the kingdom for someone capable of translating what the girl said to him. After days of searching, he found an old man who was capable of interpreting to him what was said to him.
"Are you sure she said that?" asked the old man with a worried expression to King Ansell.
"Are you calling me deaf, Old man?"
"No, your majesty"
"I don't have all day, explain!"
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Chapter thirty two: King Ansell
"Do you have to go?" Rosemund asked her brother.
Her eyes were tearful and her mouth pouts in disapproval. It was almost mid night and Alexander had sneaked inside her chambers to break the news to her.
He was of adequate body built yet he walked without making a sound of any kind. Evading the guards was actually very easy not that he needed to, he could simply order them to turn a blind eye to his whereabouts or go with the easier option and plunge a dagger into their chest. One thing that was true was there would always be more guards and knights.
No man dared cross Alexander; he takes lives with blinking an eyelid. Women and children were of course off limits, but he had no qualm if his father insists on public flogging as far as he doesn't have to be the one to do it.
His only weakness was his sister, Rosemund. He would kill the entire world to keep her safe, including his father. Alexander had thought about it the last time, King Darius threw Rosemund into a raging river just for the thrills of watching her fight it. Alexander fantasized for days after the situation about ending his father's life. He won't take joy in doing it but he could do it.
Joy should never come at taking a life. Just like he felt nothing when he ordered for the man that stole from the king to be beheaded or the time, he ordered for the native village next to Aradale to be massacre because his father liked the native chief's wife. King Darius had told him to personally oversee the Massacre.
He remembered the proud smile on his father's face when he came back with a bloodied sword and knightly wears. He felt nothing then, just like he felt nothing when his father asked for the chief's wife and he simply told him, he set her on fire and watched as she burned to ashes. The smile had disappeared from his father's face. That was worth watching.
He paid for his actions few days later, when king Darius hired two mercenaries to fight his teenage son, he wasn't as strong as he was then. He hadn't felt his leg for hours and his whole body for days as he was confined to his chambers and the royal doctor treated him. He almost died yet he never regretted his actions.
He stopped feeling years ago. He stopped feeling when he found his father in his mother's chambers with a dagger impaled to her heart. King Darius stared at him as he pulled the dagger out of his mother's chest. He meant for Alexander to watch. King Darius cried as he did it.
He blamed Alexander for what happened. He told him, he had to kill his mother because she made Alexander weak and Alexander believed him. He was never weak again.
King Darius mourned his wife for days and the whole kingdom and beyond was ordered to mourn the dead Queen but not Alexander. He never shed a single tear.
He just stood like a statue as she was set on fire. Rosemund wasn't allowed at the ceremony, Alexander made sure she didn't attend.
Later, when she had asked what happened to their mother, he simply told her that she died because she was very ill and she was happier now, anyway.
It was before he knew the curse he would inherit when he takes the crown. The curse, which his father would pass on to him and Alexander to his son and the son of his son, It took years before Alexander was able to put together that his father might have murdered his mother when he transformed into the creature of the night.
He remembered the day King Darius told him about the cursed Crown. It was a year after his mother succumbed to death. He had sat patiently as his king told him what he was destined to become and do.
"How long have you lived, Xander? Ten and Half?" King Darius had asked him.
"Twelve years, father" he had simply corrected him.
"Then you are old enough to know your fate, crown prince"
It was a long story, one he told for a long time.
King Darius's great grandfather was the greatest warrior to walk the Earth. Back when Aradale was a small kingdom and the king wanted more land. The Eastern hemisphere was the richest part of the Derkal Nation. And Great grandfather Ansell wanted it for himself.
King Ansell went to a small native village rumored to be werewolves and asked them for help in conquering the eastern hemisphere. The tribe was peaceful pack lead by a young woman who also happens to be a priestess. But on the day of the battle, the native werewolves pack refused to fight against the Eastern hemisphere without provocation.
And after he waged war against what was now known as Namura kingdom and was defeated. Namura stripped down Aradale and ship her castle stone by stone.
He went into a fit of rage and murdered the small native tribe, children, women and men all dead because King Ansell's was greed.
Tales were told that the native tribe turned into beasts and killed most of King Ansell's men but they were so outnumbered that no one made it out alive, the young priestess refused to die after being stabbed repeatedly with a silver blade.
King Ansell came down to finish her off when she grabbed her hand and whispered something to him before she took her last breath.
Bothered by the weird occurrence, King Ansell looked throughout the kingdom for someone capable of translating what the girl said to him. After days of searching, he found an old man who was capable of interpreting to him what was said to him.
"Are you sure she said that?" asked the old man with a worried expression to King Ansell.
"Are you calling me deaf, Old man?"
"No, your majesty"
"I don't have all day, explain!"
Chapter thirty two: King Ansell "Do you have to go?" Rosemund asked her brother. Her eyes were tearful and her mouth pouts in disapproval. It was almost mid night and Alexander had sneaked inside her chambers to break the news to her. He was of adequate body built yet he walked without making a sound of any kind. Evading the guards was actually very easy not that he needed to, he could simply order them to turn a blind eye to his whereabouts or go with the easier option and plunge a dagger into their chest. One thing that was true was there would always be more guards and knights. No man dared cross Alexander; he takes lives with blinking an eyelid. Women and children were of course off limits, but he had no qualm if his father insists on public flogging as far as he doesn't have to be the one to do it. His only weakness was his sister, Rosemund. He would kill the entire world to keep her safe, including his father. Alexander had thought about it the last time, King Darius threw Rosemund into a raging river just for the thrills of watching her fight it. Alexander fantasized for days after the situation about ending his father's life. He won't take joy in doing it but he could do it. Joy should never come at taking a life. Just like he felt nothing when he ordered for the man that stole from the king to be beheaded or the time, he ordered for the native village next to Aradale to be massacre because his father liked the native chief's wife. King Darius had told him to personally oversee the Massacre. He remembered the proud smile on his father's face when he came back with a bloodied sword and knightly wears. He felt nothing then, just like he felt nothing when his father asked for the chief's wife and he simply told him, he set her on fire and watched as she burned to ashes. The smile had disappeared from his father's face. That was worth watching. He paid for his actions few days later, when king Darius hired two mercenaries to fight his teenage son, he wasn't as strong as he was then. He hadn't felt his leg for hours and his whole body for days as he was confined to his chambers and the royal doctor treated him. He almost died yet he never regretted his actions. He stopped feeling years ago. He stopped feeling when he found his father in his mother's chambers with a dagger impaled to her heart. King Darius stared at him as he pulled the dagger out of his mother's chest. He meant for Alexander to watch. King Darius cried as he did it. He blamed Alexander for what happened. He told him, he had to kill his mother because she made Alexander weak and Alexander believed him. He was never weak again. King Darius mourned his wife for days and the whole kingdom and beyond was ordered to mourn the dead Queen but not Alexander. He never shed a single tear. He just stood like a statue as she was set on fire. Rosemund wasn't allowed at the ceremony, Alexander made sure she didn't attend. Later, when she had asked what happened to their mother, he simply told her that she died because she was very ill and she was happier now, anyway. It was before he knew the curse he would inherit when he takes the crown. The curse, which his father would pass on to him and Alexander to his son and the son of his son, It took years before Alexander was able to put together that his father might have murdered his mother when he transformed into the creature of the night. He remembered the day King Darius told him about the cursed Crown. It was a year after his mother succumbed to death. He had sat patiently as his king told him what he was destined to become and do. "How long have you lived, Xander? Ten and Half?" King Darius had asked him. "Twelve years, father" he had simply corrected him. "Then you are old enough to know your fate, crown prince" It was a long story, one he told for a long time. King Darius's great grandfather was the greatest warrior to walk the Earth. Back when Aradale was a small kingdom and the king wanted more land. The Eastern hemisphere was the richest part of the Derkal Nation. And Great grandfather Ansell wanted it for himself. King Ansell went to a small native village rumored to be werewolves and asked them for help in conquering the eastern hemisphere. The tribe was peaceful pack lead by a young woman who also happens to be a priestess. But on the day of the battle, the native werewolves pack refused to fight against the Eastern hemisphere without provocation. And after he waged war against what was now known as Namura kingdom and was defeated. Namura stripped down Aradale and ship her castle stone by stone. He went into a fit of rage and murdered the small native tribe, children, women and men all dead because King Ansell's was greed. Tales were told that the native tribe turned into beasts and killed most of King Ansell's men but they were so outnumbered that no one made it out alive, the young priestess refused to die after being stabbed repeatedly with a silver blade. King Ansell came down to finish her off when she grabbed her hand and whispered something to him before she took her last breath. Bothered by the weird occurrence, King Ansell looked throughout the kingdom for someone capable of translating what the girl said to him. After days of searching, he found an old man who was capable of interpreting to him what was said to him. "Are you sure she said that?" asked the old man with a worried expression to King Ansell. "Are you calling me deaf, Old man?" "No, your majesty" "I don't have all day, explain!"
