Varis stood atop the roof of a watch tower at the center of the capital square. Ten assassins stood silently behind him awaiting orders. He stood still with the wind slapping at his face. He liked the feeling.
"Set them free…!"
The birds flew fast to the estates of the now panicked households. They had two choices:
Abandon the King and save their children or die with him, their children following right after.
The message to the king though was a little different, he had no allegiance to break only a throne to give.
Ashphyr sat in his throne room, his wife silently sobbing at his side. Alzar stood with her fists clenched beside her, even Raven wasn't excluded. She silently stood watching the family wondering if she had family searching for her above.
He could guess what would go down at the council room tomorrow. He sighed.
The next morning, King Ashphyr's prediction became a bitter reality.
The ancient council chambers of Alvea were filled with anything but regal composure. The hysterical fury and despair of the gathered nobles bounced off the walls. The seven noble houses, frantic after receiving the Gardenian's ultimatum, had practically breached the inner court. The twenty three missing noble scions, including the prince were leverage far too precious to ignore.
"My son is in the hands of cultists, Ashphyr!" Lord Moonbrook roared, slamming a heavy hand unto the green marble table.
"The Gardenians grew stronger because you said to do nothing! Our children…, it's all because you let that surface creature stay!"
He pointed an accussing finger towards Raven, who remained standing despite the scorn, and hate filled gazes cast on her.
From what she heard, she had fallen atop the chasm concealing Alvea. She had not intended to become the catalyst of an insurrection, yet her mere presence had been twisted by a group of lunatica running amok in the capital. Anger burned in her chest but she herself was helpless. She didn't even know what she was or who exactly she was.
Just a name and a face, that's all she could recall.
"If abdication is what Phillis demands, then Your Majesty, you must consider. For the sake of our children!" Lady Silver added
Ashphyr wasn't surprised.
'Woe to be king...!'
"You are right, my ministers…, This King would not dare to play with the lives our children!"
Th pressure was suffocating. Heavy crowns always brought heavy burdens.
He looked at his quietly sobbing wife and his daughter whose jaws were clenched tight with bubbling rage.
'Sorry darling!'
Quick footsteps rushed through to the hall as Ashphyr sighed lightly.
"Brother! You aren't really thinking to give into this heretics.., are you?" Alexander looked disheveled. His hair scattered framing his sharp features.
As the third son of the former king, Prince Alexander was the top bachelor in Alvea.
His sharp jawline, straight nose and thin lips were hot with the ladies.
"Brother…, you can't possibly agree to such unreasonable demands. The throne of Telaviv is not something some lunatic should dare to covet!" Azor the second son of the former king and Ashphyrs first little brother stood with a deep between his brows. In his arms, a little girl slept soundly like the world wasn't on fire.
"Your highnesses, the heirs of all our clans are at the risk of annihilation.."
"Clans could restart, Kids could be born but the throne of Alvea would not come back if defiled by an occultic lunatic!"
Azor had always had a short fuse. His words were as blunt as they had always been.
"Enough." Ashphyr spoke, his voice quiet yet echoing through the chamber. His fingers lighly rubbed to space between his brows.
"I will not let the blood of our children fill the streets. I will step down!"
A sharp collective breath swept through the council.
Before Alzar could protest, a royal messenger burst into the hall, his steps hurried and frightened. In his hands was a black wax sealed parchment that had just been delivered by an unmarked shadow bird.
"If the king truly wishes to surrender the throne and ensure the safety of the Prince and all the other Noble heirs, he will come alone to the old aqueduct archways beneath the eastern district at midnight. Speak to Gars. Come alone!"
Midnight arrived like a prowling predator.
Disregarding the desperate pleas of Alzar and his inner guard, King Ashphyr went alone into the damp, decaying underbelly of the eastern district. He was dressed in a simple dark and golden cloak, his hair was tied up by a black ribbon. His eyes were narrow and at the same time solemn.
He moved through the quiet channels, his steps echoing like solitary judgement. After a while of walking in the damp darkness, he reached a desolate stone archway where a lone figure draped in a black robe stood blending with the shadows.
"Gars," Ashphyr addressed the figure, his hand resting near his concealed sidearm.
"I have come as you have told me to. Now release my son and the other noble children"
Gars stepped out from the shadows into the faint moonlight filtering through the drainage grate above.
A cold knowing smile played on his pale, bloodless lips.
"You were always so quick to sacrifice for the greater good, Ashphyr" Gars murmured softly.
"A noble trait…., but not one a true sovereign should possess. It is your fatal weakness!"
Before Ashphyr could react, the stone floor beneath his feet burst into a bright, violet binding array. Ancient anti-magic runes flared to life, snapping obsidian chains around his limbs in seconds. Ashphyr surged forward attempting to summon his mana, but the chains pierced through his skin, feeding on the mana in his blood. He was powerless. He had nowhere to escape.
From the darkness of the tunnels, a dozen Gardenian Zealots stepped out, weapons drawn. Afterall, one could never be sure of what a king had rolled under his sleeves.
"It was a trap!" Ashphyr gasped, his knees hitting the cold stone floor as the obsidian chains drew more mana from his blood.
"The chairman doesn't negotiate with fallen leaders. You're not worthy!"
Ashphyr was blindfolded and dragged into the depths of the tunnels. Passage after passage passed by in the darkness and his helplessness was more pronounced.
They walked until the weird and heavy scent of roses and volcanic slate filled his lungs.
When the blindfolds were ripped off, he found himself in a reinforced cell deep withing the black stone garden.
"Father…?"
A small trembling voice sounded from the far corner of the dark cell.
Ashphyr's head snapped up. Bound in similar restraints sat his son, Prince Ashar Televiv.
"Ashar!" Ashphyr scrambled across the stone floor, pulling his bound son closer to his chest.
"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"
"I'm fine, dad"Ashar sobbed softly, clinging to his father's cloak. But then the boy looked up, his eyes wide with horror, shock and confusion.
"Father…., the chairman…, Phillis.."
"I know!" Ashphyr sighed, his heart sinking further.
Of course he knew! He had the eternal truth eye. Nothing could ever truly be hidden from him!