Chapter 26: Chapter 9: Destruction of the Kingdom(Part 1)

—The Past Revisited—

—20 Days Ago—

The night unforgiving to those residing inside of it, despair clawing at the resolve of those all around. Chilling the wind can be, the kingdom falling apart with each passing moment. Fiends lurking inside of the town, those ravenous eyes lunging at the countless trying to escape. Screaming echoing through, blood spilling against the land. Far in the back, that castle struggling in maintaining its glory. Within it, through those numerous hallways, many knights gathering in the throne room. Silence in the area, the demise of the King hitting their morale. The Prince standing in front of Richter, his vision trembling at this news, those same eyes of the young man reminding the knights of the proud King.

"What do you mean father has been killed?" the Prince questions in disbelief. 

A Prince he is, being the sole heir to the throne. This devastating news of the demise of his father, such leaving him without breath. Perhaps it is in comparison to a cannon hitting against him, ill news it is, and certainly something he does not wish to hear. Someone as great as his father being no more, the harsh reality of life revealing itself inside of this horrible night. That young man knowing that this has always been of a possibility, even so, it is still very difficult to endure. Looking to the knights, many lowering their heads. That Prince in resemblance of his late father in every sense of the word, so much so that the knights are finding it difficult in looking directly at him. Those eyes of the young man evermore dreadful, slightly turning away his attention. Even now, he is within the shadow of his father. Infuriating this is, incapability of living as his own.

"I am sorry Prince, perhaps we should speak elsewhere so that you can process this even better." Richter bowing.

"I suppose so..."

Richter glancing at the Prince for a moment, soon standing straight. That knight turning, slightly looking away. The Prince resting his vision ahead, witnessing the proud knight walking onward. Gathering his nerves for a moment, the young man following along. Dire the situation is appearing, the kingdom falling into chaos, one having to fill the shoes of someone larger. These many emotions crashing against the Prince, his eyes at an unrest. The door to the throne room opening, that young man leaving along with Richter. Making their way down the hallway, one clearly of a heavy heart, while the other without a shred of sympathy inside of their eyes. Paintings of the King and Queen along the walls, years of progress. Gazing upon one of his mother, wondering of her location. His attention soon upon the statues of the gods, and the long crimson carpet running across the ground.

"Who killed father?" the Prince reluctantly questions.

"An angel."

That voice of the knight seeming to be of sincerity, one playing two hands. A ruse from within, rage burning from his depths. Memories dictating the outcome, his resolve pushing onward. Richter taking one step after another, reaching for those desires deep inside of him. All the while, the young man trying to process those words, an angel committing such an action. Uncertainty of the situation, wondering of the reasoning for their wrath. A father staining in sins, even so, always doing his best in righting those mistakes. Punishment hardly fitting the bill, more still being to this tale. 

"An angel? This is making little sense. Why would an angel cause such destruction?" that Prince incredulously questions.

"I wish I can answer that myself." Richter glancing back to the Prince.

That knight giving only bits and pieces of information, enough in moving along the event. Destruction residing within the night, horror unimaginable. A heart wishing to know the truth of it all, another reaching out to those desires far inside of him. Both soon standing at an intersection, the Prince clearly requiring a more thorough response. Destruction coming in the wake of an angel, difficulty in wrapping his head around the matter, those of the high heavens having their methods. Mysteries inside of the world, little sense this is making. Angels being a legend of the past, but still holding strong beliefs to the current day.

"I mean after all, would it not make sense for an insider to be able to ruin the King?" Richter questions, folding his arms. 

Calm his eyes are, steering away suspicion with the slightest of sorrow expressing from him. Normalcy in grieving over those that are no more, a time of turmoil. Morality casting away, this being the difference between life and death. Those words of the knight taking the attention of the Prince, a more likely possibility. Even so, unrest within the area. A strange energy around him, that unsettling air. The messaging of the former knight, emotions of unease inside of the Prince, his heart rate increasing by the moment.

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"Are you saying that there is a traitor amongst us?" he responds, tension in his voice.

Scraping against the walls, the sounds of such catching the attention of the young man. Turning his vision all around, demons revealing themselves from the deepest shadows. A night of eternity being at hand, despite it all, something of amiss. Those eyes of the knight fixating, yet another piece moving into place. One taking the necessary precautions, ensuring his rate of success. To live on the battlefield is to also learn of the lowest of tactics, in the end, survival being of necessity. Life holding dear, desire carrying on with the living, everything going with the dead.

"Indeed." He agrees, deviously smiling. 

A fool the Prince has been for not realizing such signs, Richter setting this up from the beginning. That young man glancing from left to right, his expression becoming much more stern. Those devils glaring at him, their menacing fangs within his view. Fiends slowly approaching him by the moment, uneasiness gripping at his heart. Painful it is, a traitor amongst them. Discovering it has been one of his father's closest, that knight holding responsibility for this madness. No matter so, this revelation is mattering little at the moment. That Prince looking to his right, then to his left. Fear building from the pit of his stomach, his eyes refusing in relenting.

"Richter...how could you?" the Prince questions, anger within his vision. 

Gripping his blade in hand, that Prince carefully eying those numerous enemies. Fiends salivating for their next victim, disgusting foes they are. Even more than this, questions plaguing his mind. One of their own aligning with the devils, nonsensical it is. Chaos ensuing, that knight working with demons. One wishing for answers, the night truly being a place of cruelty, revealing the worst within others. Despair clawing away at the soul, a heart desperately trying to remain free. Turmoil around each end, enemies surrounding the young man.

"Do you honestly believe I could forgive your filthy father for what he had done to my people?" Richter questions, closing his eyes.

That knight turning from the Prince, hanging his head low. Those many emotions inside of Richter, images never leaving his mind. No matter of the passing time, this pain never getting any easier. Opening his eyes, dread clearly revealing deep within them. Reasoning for his actions, that Prince noticing this. Despite it all, madness this is. One selling out his own to those in shadows, an unforgivable action, no matter of the conflict. Events of the past, sorrow constantly gripping at the heart. Small the chances may be, yet that knight reaching for the faintest of light.

"It was a mistake, father did all he could to try and right that wrong! You know this!"

"It was not enough...! Money...! Resources! That will not bring back my family!" Richter yelling, releasing the hatred deep inside of him.

"I know...and I'm sorry, but this is too much. Bringing demons in! Destroying innocent lives! All because of revenge?!" that Prince retorting.

"Was it not your father's words that collateral damage is part of war? Hm? Prince?" he questions, glancing back.

"..."

Collateral damage, a common line in times of turmoil. Lives nothing more than a piece, a cruel King he may have been, but many loyal servants knowing of his efforts in righting his wrongs. Even so, a life can never have a replacement. Those many actions of the past, numerous reprehensible ones at hand. War being but a terrible game, one in which no one can truly win. In the end, one always losing something or someone of value. That King wishing to right those wrongs, doing all that he can to give back at least a bit. The Prince turning, countless devils steadily approaching him.

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