Chapter 1 :Blood On The Stones
The morning sun crept in the palace courtyard, cold and merciless. Jamrak stood in the crowd of servants and peasants. His head bowed, though his eyes upward, now and again towards the raised platform. He didn't want to be here, but all the workers were ordered to witness his execution. The king said it kept them "disciplined and in order ". Jamrak thought it kept them afraid, but little did the king know he was just brewing gossip and rebellion around the corner.
The condemned man was dragged forward, thin, trembling, but with adamance and defiance, still burning in his composure. Though he looked weak, it was Javin, Jamrak's only real friend in the palace. They scrubbed the floor together, shared scraps of bread, and whispered dreams in the dark. Just last week, Javin confessed in hushed tones," I am tired of this palace, Jamrak, tired of being nothing. I will steal a jewel from the treasury, sell it, and vanish. Better to die trying than to be here forever". Jamrak begged him, but not to,"you will be caught they don't forgive theft ".But he paid no attention.
Now javin stood before the crowd ,chains binding his wrist like a hardened criminal, draining blood from his already frail body .The captain of the guards read his crime in a loud fearful voice,"Attempted theft from the royal treasury.A crime against the crown,Let his head roll". No chance of appeal ,No chance for mercy .Just judgement,the swords came down swiftly ,javin's head between a slaughter board .
Blood sprayed across the gravel stones and javin head rolled to the ground ,his body collapsed like a fallen wheat bag .The crowd gasped , trembling,some almost fainted ,then the captain shouted "Silence ,This is just a warning,it could be you one day ",revealing a demonic smile .The stench of iron filled the air .Jamrak stomach twisted ,His friend's dream of freedom had ended in blood ,while he was forced to watch in silence .He pressed his lips together , trembling but dared not look away .To flinch was to invite suspicion,that was the last thing he needed ,he had a dieing mother and a frail sister to take care of everyday .He swallowed hard, tightened his fist .This is the palace, he thought bitterly ,this is the life we are forced to live.
…
The palace was a ward on its own, divided by walls, both visible and invisible. Jamrak often wondered if the king had designed it this way. Layers upon layers of people, each more privileged than the last. At the very bottom lay the poor, who lived on the streets, thin as bone, begging for scraps. Then came the meager working class; cooks, cleaners, tables, hands like Jamrak, who lived within the palace. But in the coldest regions, shacks and structures like punishments more than privilege, servant life meant literally nothing. Above them were the guards, then the tax officials and the lesser governing bodies, who carried out the king's order in the city. Higher still were the henchmen, who, ranked 1 to 5, feared for their cruelty. Over them were the guild apper, ranked 1 to 4, who managed trade and law. Then the titled apper, ranked 1 to 3, who sat close to the throne, and could decide state matters alongside the royal family. Few of the titled uppers were council members in the royal house. Beyond even them was the king's guild, ranked 1 to 5, who could command armies with just words . And finally, the royal house itself, untouchable, absolute, and suffocating in its power. Most citizens belonged to the poor era, living crushed under endless hunger and taxes. The rich who dined and wined on golden platters, while the poor were clothed in rags and prayed for a bowl of soup. Freedom, food, and dignity only belonged to the few. Jamrak learnt all this young. And now, with Javin's blood on the stone before him beheaded, he was reminded of just how thin the line between life and death was.
The king's daughter sat near the edge of the platform. She wore an adorned gown glowing under the heavy sun. Her cheeks were plump, her eyes cold, and her lips twisted. She was smiling demonically. Her chubbiness was a testimony of how much the peasants and small business owners were bleeding. She had watched the execution, but when Jamak's eyes slipped towards another direction just to breathe, she caught the princess Avelins staring intently at him. For a moment, it was strange, the curiosity, amusement, desire . Jamak quickly looked away, but it was too late. He felt her eyes still on him, like a hawk on its prey. Later that day, she summoned him to her chambers. Jamrak went reluctantly. His hands still smelling of blood from scrubbing the courtyard stones. She was sitting on her silk cushions, her eyes fixed on him." You serve me now", she said, her voice sharp, expecting obedience. Jamrak bowed to her. "Forgive me, my lady, but I cannot. My duties lie in the stables". Her eyes narrowed, angry. "Do you refuse me? " ,"I do not mean to offend you, my lady", Jamak said quietly, but the voice sounded hollow to him. Her lips curved into a smile that sent chills down his spine. He could not tell if it was anger or something else. "You dare turn me away? Leave", she said, smiling. He felt a trap closing in, but could not find a way out. All he could do was bow again and leave, his stomach tight with dread and fear. The next morning, gaurds stormed into the servants' quarters. They dragged Jamrak out, ignoring his pleas, and threw him before the captain of the guards. "Theft", the captain shouted." Jewels stolen from the princess' chambers found hidden in the stables". Jamak's mouth went dry. He tried to say some thing but nothing came out ."Silence". The captain's boots hit his ribs, forcing him to the ground. "The king would decide what to do with you". Around him, the other servants whispered and stared. Some with pity , most were relieved that it wasn't them. Jamak's eyes became teary. He thought of his friend Javin, who had truly tried to steal, and wondered bitterly if his fate would be the same. But when they took him before the king, the punishment was not dead yet.
The king's gaze was cold, his voice heavy with disdain. "A thief, a liar, a servant who refused my daughter's commands. Still, perhaps useful". Jamrak frowned,too stunned to speak. The king leaned forward." You will join the others already condemned. You will retrieve something far more valuable than the jewels you sought to steal. A relic from the wolves, Bring it back, and perhaps you see freedom. Fail, and you will die as you deserve".
Chains bound Jamrak's wrist. His life had been turned upside down in a single day. Now, between life and death, his friend was killed by the sword. His own innocence burnt away by lies and now a mission that seemed more like a death sentence than a chance of redemption. As they dragged him towards the dungeon to await the others, Jamrak lifted his head once more to the courtyard. Javin's bloodstain was still visible on the stone, dark and stubborn. Jamrak swore under his breath. If the world wanted him out, he will not go quietly.