Chapter 2: 2

Lesaric moved quickly. The center of Libron was quite far from the western end where he was. While a shabby wagon powered by a magical stone had been prepared for him, he had chosen to take a horse instead. He knew that the ride was intended to mock him.

After two gruesome weeks of riding, Lesaric finally found himself at the castle of Libron.

He inherited the surname of Lemsa “Horn”. It didn’t suit him, who won both the first war as a knight and the second war as a commander-in-chief, but no one seemed to be bothered.

Despite the protests of those who had welcomed him into the castle, he refused to wipe the dust off himself and strode right into the throne room. The king was waiting.

“This humble man is pleased to see the king of Terrosa.”

“Sir Lesaric,” the king greeted, though there was no warmth in his voice. On either side of him sat the second princess and the first prince, both of the king’s bloodline, both whispering into his ears. “I hear that we have fared well in the war with Easto and Nia.”

To anyone else, it would have seemed as if the king was done speaking. But Lesaric knew better.

The king grimaced. “You must know that it is unusual for a Soul such as yourself to be in your position,” he said. “Souls are known to be strong because of their innate magical powers, however they have never been very bright.”

Lesaric kept his head down and closed his eyes.

“Despite your circumstances, you managed to serve as an important general of the Yeft, general of the knights, and commander-in-chief,” The king coughed and stuttered for a little, and the prince and the princesses have continued exchanging whispers. The king was failing in health, but in the past he had commanded of Terrosa and exploited the likes of Lesaric, the ‘Souls’. He knew very well how to dispose of a hunting dog that could be a threat to the royal family. The king showed his teeth and gave Lesaric a distorted smile.

“Therefore, I shall bestow this reward: you shall serve any of the king’s blood!”

“It’s a great honor.” The fifth prince, Barwin, smirked. “It’s like letting a dog choose its owner.”

The second princess, Hailian, then added, “Of course, you will no longer be able to yield a sword or build from now on, but you will be able to warm the bed of the king’s bloodline. It’s a greater honor, don’t you think?”

The mockery was clear as servants around them grew flustered and refused to look at Lesaric. It didn’t matter that he was a Soul and that he had already served brilliantly as a knight, this was not the right way to thank him for his work. While everyone else grew unsettled at his prospects, however, Lesaric remained emotionless.

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He had gone to war when he was only 13 and he had spent 14 years on the battlefield. While it may have seemed like he was keen on rising through the ranks and gaining power and recognition, the truth was that Lesaric had simply wanted to survive and do what was good for Terossa. He had not intended to gain the attention of others, but it had happened anyway.

All that was left was for him to fall. He was not afraid of death.

“I cannot do that,” he said. His voice rang through the hall and startled all the servants who were watching.

The first prince laughed. “Has your position gotten to your head?” he jeered. “Do you really think you can refuse the king’s orders? We could order you to take your clothes off and you would have to obey, you know that, right?”

“It doesn’t matter if you disobey our orders now. You won’t be able to do anything from now on anyway.”

Lesaric was happy to join the plan that had already been arranged for his fall. He couldn’t be happier. They didn’t even know that he waited for this day. Everything, suffering and pain, will be finally over.

“I refuse,” he said bluntly.

Everyone else laughed at him.

“What a stupid dog,” the first prince said. “We should make an example out of you, show everyone what happens when they refuse the king’s bloodline.”

Lesaric lifted his gaze to the royals before him, “His eyes are disrepectful, it would be good to dig them out.”

The king gestured for the knights and servants to tie Lesaric up. The knights’ eyes welled with tears, unable to disobey the royal bloodline. They were Souls, beings bound by contract.

“I’m sorry,” a knight whispered as he bound Lesaric’s hands behind his back.

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