Chapter 28: The Dead Of Night

The nobles had been gathered for over two hours now. They were still fiercely debating over who's troops would go where and how the crown would compensate them. Although they were all part of the same Kingdom, they still would not move for free. If one looked at it from the outside, they could see that the Royal family only held on to their power because of their military might.

If all the nobles banded together, they could potentially threaten the crown. This was why it was important for King Alexander to reimburse them appropriately, to keep them happy with the status quo. He was already growing tired of the politics involved. He didn't see how his father could have handled all of the stress, or why he even fought for the crown to begin with.

He was rubbing his temples, still seated on the throne, when a page rushed to his side. The page whispered into his ear, causing King Alexander to open his eyes wide.

"Silence!" He yelled out, the cacophony of voices slowly petering out.

Gathering his thoughts, he took some time to speak. "There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just state the facts. Lord Arckroft, along with his wife and brother, are dead."

Gasps could be heard from the high class crowd. One of their own had died, and from the way the King was speaking could tell it wasn't an accident. This just after after the murder of the king made the entire body of nobles feel as if the Kingdom was truly being targeted. No one felt safe, they just wanted to leave then hunker down in their estates.

"What fate befell them?" A Viscount asked, he was part of the ati-war faction.

"All I know is that their bodies were found around the dinner table. Their guards were still stationed around the property, they were as shocked as the knights were when they had found the bodies. Our courier is still missing as well." King Alexander said, shaking his head.

What was happening? First the curse, now this? Who is targeting their Kingdom? Why did it have to be him that held the crown? King Alexander's mind was a mess of thoughts. He looked up, seeing the gazes of all the nobles gathered pointed at him only compounded the pressure on his soul.

"Go back to your territories." He began, his voice shaky and low.

"We do not know who our enemy is that is stalking in the shadows, but one thing is for certain; he will not stop until our Kingdom falls!"

The nobles all nodded their heads, agreeing with his assessment.

"From this day forward, the Kingdom of Amine is under martial law!" He bellowed, using all his strength to stand from the throne.

"For centuries we have stood firm against our enemies. For centuries our neighbors have feared us, dreaded our armies! They think we are weak now with my father gone! That is not so, I will show them that we are still to be feared! That we are strong, that we will not tolerate the slights against us! Alas, the Crown cannot do so on its own. I call upon all of you to help protect this Kingdom, our Kingdom, from its enemies! We will smoke out all those that harbor ill will to our precious Kingdom! We will put their heads on spikes at every city gate, offering a glimpse into the future of anyone who dares go against us! Now go! Mobilize your troops, it seems all our lives are in the balance." He finished his speech, wobbling slightly on weak legs, but remained standing.

"Long live the King! Long Live the King!" The nobles sang out like a chorus.

…..

Silus Arckroft felt empty inside. It felt as if there was a dark void greedily swallowing any semblance of emotions deep inside his chest. All those years of planning, all the sacrifices he made, and at the end of it; he felt nothing. He had thought that he would be happy, or at least content, but looking down at his dead parents and uncle made him feel nothing at all.

There was no sense of freedom or relief that it was finally done. Just emptiness, like he was a hollow doll with no purpose. Was this the consequence of having no soul? Was this the cost of the power he received? He shook his head, there was no point in regretting his actions now. It was far too late for that.

It had been much much easier than he initially thought. After discovering his capabilities and growing used to them after a few days, he went into action. He waited until the sun had just sunk below the horizon. Although he could go out in daylight, for some reason it made him feel extremely uncomfortable. His powers seemed to be much more potent in the darkness as well, it was the perfect time.

His once dark hair was now silver in color, his skin a pale, milky white. His irises shone a golden amber, mesmerizing all that stared into them. His face was the same, but now he had an added charm to him. People seemed to grow complacent around him, willing to do things for him that they normally wouldn't do. This allowed him to move around much easier.

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Slipping into his father's estate was made much easier with the appearance of a royal courier. Killing him took but a flick of his wrist, snapping the man's neck, then dragging him into a dark alleyway. Now dressed in official attire, the guards of the estate escorted him to the heart of the manor. A simple spell was all it took to make the guards forget he was ever there. He watched as they left him outside the dining room, marching back to their original posts.

He could have slaughtered his way in, it would have been easy for him now. He had his future to think of though, he wanted to leave enough time for him to escape. Killing guards would draw attention no matter how secretly he did it. Knowing how his father hated to be interrupted during meals, he had at least an hour before any staff would come inside to attend to him.

Pushing the doors open, he entered. His father turned towards him, obvious wrath in his eyes. Once he saw the royal uniform though, his face softened considerably.

"To what do we owe the pleasure to have the Crown call upon us?" Lord Arckroft asked, standing from his chair.

Silus stood stock still, he couldn't believe it. He knew that his looks were slightly different, but his face was the same. How could his own father not recognize him? The same father that could so easily beat him for getting anything but perfect scores. The same father that would whip him with a rod for falling asleep after another sleepless night of studying.

His eyes moved to his mother. She gave a polite smile, but that was all. She failed to identify her own son as well. His mother was anything but, she would turn a blind eye to his pleading screams as his father beat him. As a child, she would leave him in the care of the staff, only bothering to check up on him once a month or so. He tried to hate her while growing up, but found it was hard to. She was just someone that he would see once in a great while, a background character in his dimal life.

His uncle, Theodore Arckroft, was looking at him as well. There was some semblance of recognition in his eyes, but he didn't look too sure. It only made sense, he had spent the most time with Silus as a child. He was his uncle's 'favorite' nephew, and remained so until he grew too old for his tastes. His father knew, there was no way he did not. That may have been one of the reasons for his abuse, his father blamed him.

All these hurtful memories flashed through his mind, only taking but a breath. They stirred no emotions within him. The only thing he felt while looking at his 'family' was disgust. Disgust one would feel when looking at swine rolling around in their own feces. They were nothing more than animals to him, they all were.

His uncle was the first to die. Silus moved so fast that he seemed to vanish from sight, only to reappear directly behind Theodore. Silus simply punched out with his fist, connecting with the back of his head. Where his head once was, his fist was the only thing that remind. Like a melon bursting due to fermentation, bits and pieces of bone and brain matter spattered the area around him.

Lady Arckroft's face contorted into one of horror and disbelief. Before she could scream, Silus struck her face with the back of his hand. Generating enough force to turn her head one-hundred and eighty degrees. She slumped forward, the back of her head resting in a bowl of still warm soup, her face wide eyed, staring at the ceiling.

"W..wh...what is th..the meaning of this?" Lord Arckroft stammered, backing away from Silus.

Silus began to speak, but paused. Why would he dignify his father by talking to him? Was he even worth an explanation? The man never cared for his son, he doubted that he ever really loved him. He only had the family's name, its status, on his mind. Trying to transform Silus into the perfect head of the family, not caring at all about his own thoughts and feelings.

Materializing next to his father, Silus reached out, grasping his throat. Silus lifted his father up into the air by his neck, peering into his eyes. Lord Arckroft couldn't breath, he struggled with all his might, but could do nothing to escape the iron grip of the monster before him. Looking into the eyes of the man strangling him, he could see nothing. There was no remorse in his eyes, not even anger, it was like staring into a mirror. He could see his own terror being reflected back at him by those amber eyes, burrowing deep into his very soul.

The fear and anxiety compounded onto each other, causing each passing second to feel like an eternity. The pressure on his neck only increased, blood started to seep from his eyes as the pressure in his brain increased. With one final burst of strength, Lord Arckroft kicked the man in the groin. Seeing the man's brows furrow was the last thing he saw before the man squeezed his neck hard enough to decapitate him.

His father's corpse fell to the ground in front of him like a sack of potatoes, blood pooling under his feet. It was done, he finally achieved his revenge. He let out a sigh, not of relief, but of frustration. He had gotten blood all over himself so now he would have to clean himself before leaving. He licked his hands clean, enjoying the sweet taste of his father's blood. Pulling a spare set of clothes out of his storage ring he changed into them.

He threw the soiled clothes into the fireplace, setting them alight with a Fireball spell. He then slipped out of the dining room and out into the now dark courtyard. Blending into the shadows, he scaled the wall easily, then disappeared down the poorly lit street. He walked briskly, but not so fast as to draw attention to himself. His goal now was to leave the city, finding some remote place to call home.

He was a little lost at the moment. He had spent so long planning this that now that it was done he didn't know what to do with himself. He passed by a begger, holding their hand out asking for spare change. Silus frowned; disgusting, they were all disgusting. He scanned the area, watching as people walked by, going about their business. It was dark out, but the night life of the city was still very active.

The more he looked, the less difference he saw between his noble family and the beggar on the street corner, they were all the same. They were beneath him, not even worth a passing thought. Yet here he was, hiding in the darkness from them, afraid of being caught. He stopped, then looked up into the night sky. He needed power, he needed people. He needed a stable foundation that would allow him to live freely and without fear.

That would be his new goal from now on. He would work towards creating a world molded by his desires, not those that he viewed beneath him. He just didn't know where to start. It didn't matter. As long as he started, as long as he was alive he would work towards the dream he now had.

With a newfound reason for living, Silus picked a random direction and set off into the dead of night.. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew that wherever it was, it would be his new home.

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