Ch 1: Death of a Hero

In the country of La’Juune, a great King rules. In this country's capital city of Gheluvelt the strong King resides. At the heart of the capital city, the 'hero' King lives in a massive palace atop a hill.

The towering palace with hundreds of rooms rises a dozen stories into the sky, each window facing east affords a panoramic view of a city so expansive it seems as though it never ends. The view from the western rooms overlooks a lake stretched so far out into the horizon that one could confuse it for the sky.

It is here, in this country, in this city, and at the far edge of this castle, that the King made a decision to bridge a two hundred year’s divide between La'Juune and its rival countries of Troy and Eiyalazo.

Countless lives lost in full scale wars and yearly skirmishes has finally compelled him to reach out a gentle hand, offering a chance at lasting peace by promising his two son’s to marry the daughters of his rival country’s rulers.

The princesses are here now to accept the gracious gesture from the King.

With this monumental move, two thousand years of human history will forever be changed, and it all starts and ends with King James in this palace atop a hill…

Two young women walk along the wide hallways of La’Juune’s palace, disinterestedly passing busts and fine arts adorning the walls that surround them. Not even the row of overhanging crystal chandeliers above their heads do enough to snatch their gaze.

The voice of one of the young women seems to echo off the high walls around her.

"You should be happy, Princess Trojia, this could really be the first step to world peace you know?"

Peering out of one of the large windows with green eyes illuminated by the afternoon sun, the blond haired girl addressed as a princess scoffs, "There's no such thing as world peace, Nyomio. Not so long as there’s drought and famine.”

“Ehh, I think our efforts here deserve a little more optimism than that.”

The blond girl looks out towards a grand city enveloped in a golden tint, the domed copper tops of residential buildings glisten in the late morning sun; despite her mentioning famine and poverty, one wouldn’t notice it from this spectacular sight. Her eyes devour the view of towering spires of cathedrals and the tile work on the rooftops of homes, the wealth seems to betray her own words.

“The only people optimistic about anything we are doing here see the world through rose colored lenses.” she says, allowing her feet to guide her forward without the assistance of her gaze. “This so-called tri-alliance between the countries of La'Juune, Troy, and Eiyalazo is just a ploy to see who can snatch up as much of the ‘Old World’ to the north and south before relations fall apart again. Whoever wins the resource race will have the upperhand in a future conflict. You should know how my mother and the other Kings think by now. As my royal guard, you've been around us long enough."

The brown haired woman shuffles within her light armor, impulsively squeezing at her flowing white dress she wears underneath the sparkling silver. Trojia’s mention of the ‘Old World’ strikes a discomforting blow that prompts her to have a look at her surroundings.

Reaching the bottom of a wide spiral staircase, their ears are invaded by the ruckus workers are making whilst building an elevator shaft. The power tools and hydraulic machinery hiss and squeal at them as though they were threatened wild animals.

The crude metallic tools look and feel extremely out of place in this large palace made up of pillars of granite and polished wood.

“They say that there won’t be any use for stairs once their work is done there.” Niomyo points out.

“Must be convenient for them...” Trojia replies, sparing them only a glance before twisting her face away and making her way up the first flight of stairs. “Won’t be long before we Trojan’s venture deeper into the Old World to find our very own version of something similar. We’ve done nothing but compete with each other since the Great War ended 12 years ago, which is all the evidence I need to plainly see that this triple marriage is a total farce.”

Niomyo nibbles at her cheek upon hearing that, but with a little shake of the head she dispels the thought of such a negative outcome. She sends a dejected glare toward the seventeen year old girl who speaks of the cruel world with an easy familiarity.

"You don’t think after twelve years of relative peace that our three nations would do whatever it takes to avoid another calamitous war? Especially with your voice in the court of La'Juune, we can pull this dream off.”

"My voice? Heh, more like my proximity to the food and drinks of the royal family, I’ll have to poison the King quickly so I can stop this mess.”

"You can't be serious!?"

Princess Trojia sends a wry smile her way.

"I quite fancy my pretty head, you know? Of course I’m kidding."

Niomyo swoons dramatically and wipes her brow when she replies, “I can’t tell if you’re joking half the time, what with all your villain talk as of late.”

“How many times have I told you this? A true villain isn’t a coward. I wouldn’t use poison to help me achieve my goals.”

An image of Trojia kackling in front of a red screen holding a knife with hands covered in blood flashes into Niomyo’s mind. She shudders. “Please don’t use anything else either."

"But…” Trojia says with a shake of her head, sending the black and white bowed ribbon in her hair in a caper. “I really don't want to get married, not like this, and especially not to that spoiled brat of a prince."

“It takes time for young men to grow.” Niomyo says, trying to console Trojia with a hand placed on her shoulder. “You have an amazing ability to change the people around you for the better. I’m sure that after a while, Prince Xavier won’t be such a pain.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I couldn’t even change my own mother, and she’s the smartest person I know. I doubt I’d have any chance getting through to the dumbest person I’m sure I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. The world of aristocracy is as dumb as he is, and even more inherently stubborn. I’ll have to take a more creative approach than trying to reason with them in any rational way. All signs point to me finally becoming a villain and changing the way our irrational world works.”

“No, these are signs for you to do good with your new position!”

“Hehe, good you say? Good for who?”

“What do you mean?”

“Good is a construct created by those in power. People like my mother, people like the King we are heading to meet, they’re considered heroes in our current world…” Trojia is clenching her fists in front of her with an ambitious smile that comes across conceited. “I won’t have any part of it, I refuse to do good for them within a system that only benefits the ones who created that system. I’m going to become a villain that puts them in their rightful place as the idiots they are.”

Trojia’s passion is palpable, even Niomyo can feel a surge of emotion that tickles her heart. However, their reverie is met with the arrival of yet another long flight of stairs.

A collective sigh escapes their lips.

Trojia’s once determined clenched fists wane and droop to her side. “I feel like they should have postponed this meeting until after they got that lift done, these stairs are a damn nightmare! They might actually be the ultimate villain!”

“Maybe you should have taken advantage of your future role as queen and got some men to carry us up.”

Niomyo’s gait up the staircase steadily loses its vigor, but she does her best to inspire the fatigued princess. “We’re almost there, I think...”

“Your lack of conviction is making my legs feel even heavier!”

The voice of a man suddenly comes from the top of the staircase and interrupts their complaints.

“You actually are almost there.” 

Looking up to the source of the voice, they see the dark skinned face of the tall brooding figure peering down on them with gleaming hazel eyes.

Ignoring their dreadful state, the man casually addresses them, “I’m relieved to find that you are late because you’re struggling with the stairs. I was sent to come find you in case something bad had happened.”

With incredulity not meant to be disguised, Trojia asks, “You don't look relieved to me, aren’t you standing in front of us hiding a smirk??”

“You know,” the man shrugs and turns his face away, seemingly embarrassed he let his amusement show. “You could have just gotten a castle guard to carry you up.”

“Ah, I knew she could have done that..!” Controlling a series of huffs and puffs upon reaching the top of the staircase, Niomyo asks, “And who are you supposed to be?”

“I am your escort to the King’s suite.”

“Then how about you offer your back to the princess?”

The man looks towards the burgundy carpeted hallway to his left and then back towards her. “As honored as I would be to do that, I’m sure she can manage this last bit on her own.”

“You should watch your tone when addressing the princess, escort.” Nimoyo hisses, reaching his side and not making eye contact.

“Hmm...” The man sends a considered glare towards Trojia before saying, “My apologies princess. You see, I spend all my time around ten very brash Knights that work underneath me. I was worried about my cordial inefficiency when I was asked to escort you.”

“You aren’t a member of the royal council?”

“No, I am Head General of the La’Juutian military. I think my King wanted to make an impression on you by using me to do someone else’s job.”

Trojia shrinks back in surprise, but it’s Niomyo that speaks up.

“Wait wait wait, you’re telling me that you’re actually… you’re actually---!”

“Napoleon Leopolo. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, though I believe we will not be spending much time with each other after today. I am very fortunate that my job tends to keep me away from those of your status in the palace.”

The two women shudder and slow their walk to create space away from him.

“And there I was insulting him so freely!” Niomyo says in a hushed tone, a cold sweat forming on her temple. “I could have been killed!”

“...I don’t know what kind of impression the King was hoping to make by sending a monster to escort us.”

“Wuuaahh you’re going to have to hide me from now on! I hear he drinks the blood of those who’d dare offend him. He’ll be hunting me down after today!”

“W-Well he said he doesn’t spend much time around nobility, maybe you will be able to avoid him if you don't leave the castle?”

“You believe a word that guy says?? He didn’t get his ‘Trojan Slayer’ nickname by being honest!”

Niomyo is leaning onto Trojia’s shoulder and whaling dramatically. The princess is trying to comfort her, but her face contorts with doubt about her friend’s future.

“We’re here.” Napoleon declares upon reaching the golden and jewel rich doors of the King’s suite. Two guards standing in front of the room immediately open the doors to allow them to enter.

Trojia and Niomyo gather themselves with a couple deep breaths, knowing full well that they are about to confront the very reason for their stay here at the La’Juutian palace. A series of many events over hundreds of years of history have led them to this moment, and it is their job to see it through to a proper conclusion.

Upon entering the octagon shaped room, they are first greeted by the grandeur of the decorations. Expensive artwork and vases rest on walls and tables of granite, the light coming in from a painted glass window that stretches the entirety of one of the eight walls of the room enters in an array of warm colors. In front of an unlit fireplace is a throne, and circling that throne are leather couches and seats.

The next thing they are greeted by is an armor-clad guard standing close to the entrance, the older man is adorned in the green and red colors of Eiyalazo, and his weathered and scarred face looks about as welcoming as an active beehive.

Intentionally playing the role of her country’s representative, Trojia doesn’t acknowledge him. Instead, her attention lands on a young woman who stands up from her seat in the center of the room.

“Hmph! Well look who it is.” says the girl with mauve hair in a puff. With arms crossed combatively, she sticks her nose up. “I wasn’t expecting to have to wait on the princess of Troy of all people.”

With a squint, Trojia lets a sharp exhale escape her nose before saying, “I guess since we’re going to be sisters in law, you’ll have to get used to it, princess Daey Di’vore.”

“Ugh, I can already see it in your face. You’re cocky because you are marrying the crown prince. I’ll have you know, it’s going to be my marriage to second prince Noah that will be the one to ensure the peace of our nations.”

“You honestly think that?”

“Both of us know how insufferable Prince Xavier is, your marriage with him will fail just like his eventual rule. My future husband however is a genius, and the two of us will be the ones remembered in the histories for our accomplishments.”

As proud and confident as Daey is presenting herself, Trojia at first reacts to that declaration with a pitiful glare. But the truth of it contorts her face into a glower as though she had just put something sour into her mouth.

Princess Daey of Eiyalazo is set to be married to the 17 year old second prince Noah Courlivet of La’Juune, who has been trained under Napoleon to become a military leader ever since he was young. The 19 year old Xavier on the other hand, has had his whims catered to due to his status as King regent. This has given him the dreadful reputation of a spoiled brat salivating at his eventual windfall of power.

Being shackled to such a person is exactly what Trojia has been dreading most about this agreement. She can only hope to use his stupidity to her advantage, such dastardly scheming is a common trait of a villain after all.

“You act like this is some game you can win.” she replies with a shrug.

Daey points and bellows, “That’s because it is always a game when you’re involved, and I intend to finally take my victory over you!”

Trojia sighs and lets her rival enjoy her little imaginary victory for now. Looking towards the throne which serves as the centerpiece of this room, Trojia is reminded as to who she is supposed to be interacting with in the first place.

“Where is the King anyways? You’re the only one here?”

Daey’s finger dances away from Trojia and lands on the large painted glass window. “The King is on the balcony outside. He hasn’t come in to greet me yet.”

Through the painted glass doors leading to the balcony, the figure of a man wearing a golden crown is seen with his back turned to them, he’s leaning against the railing and overlooking his city like a gargoyle on a ledge.

Outside is the fabled King James, the great hero of La’Juune.

The image of him through the window alone is enough to send a shiver down their collective spines. The giant of a man known as James the Conqueror has as fierce of a reputation as Napoleon, the princesses and their guards have no idea what he’s like in person.

“The King is agitated by everyone’s tardiness.” Napoleon adds. “He told me that he won’t come inside until everyone is here.”

Trojia and Niomyo look at each other and cringe at the thought that they’ve kept him waiting, but they quickly remember that his two sons have yet to arrive, so the King’s ire should be directed at them in their stead.

The double doors slowly open in a creak, stealing their gazes, and in comes a man dressed in black and purple religious garb. Although by himself, he enters with the confidence of a crowd. A dark skinned man with starch white hair, his violet eyes scour the room and makes contact with everyone present.

“Oh? My morning sermon dragged on longer than expected, I was sure I’d be late.”

“You’re just less late than some of the others, Phoenix.” Napoleon quips.

“Oh I see, the King won’t be too happy about that. I guess we can thank God that it’s his own sons that will be the last to arrive.”

Trojia and Niomyo send each other a glare of confirmation and internally celebrate their relief.

“The problem is that I ran into Prince Noah on the way here, he was out looking for you, General Napoleon.”

Napoleon sighs and presses his hand on his face. “The meeting that is supposed to alter the course of humanity has already turned into a damn shit show.”

“So where is the King?” Phoenix asks, lifting a sash off of his shoulders and placing it on the back of a nearby chair.

“He’s outside, he’s refusing to come in until we’re all here.”

“I sure hope Noah gives up trying to find you then, or he could be out there all day.”

As soon as Phoenix finishes saying that, the double doors that were just closed a moment earlier fling open in a bang. An orange haired young man dressed dashingly in a burgundy suit storms in with arms outstretched.

“Alright alright, the star of the show is here! Feel free to grovel at my feet!” he proclaims.

He struts in with an exultant gait, and the young female guard accompanying him follows slowly behind and almost shrinks into the background.

Expecting to get more of a reaction out of his sudden appearance, his mood is quickly sharpened upon finding that no one is fawning over him.

“I don’t even get a bow out of you ingrates? We’re going to have to work on your manners if you’re gonna live here under my rule.”

“Prince Xavier, it’s nice to see you again after all this time.” Trojia says with a curtsy.

“Oooah, princess, you’re just as hot as I remember!”

“Uhhh… I was 5 years old the last time I saw you.”

Ignoring that damning statement, Xavier stretches his arms over his head and looks around the room, catching sight of the empty throne.

“My father isn't here?”

“On the balcony.” “He’s outside.”

The two princesses reply simultaneously.

Xavier can see his father’s stoic frame through the window and asks, “What’s he out there for?”

“He’s waiting for everyone to arrive.” Napoleon answers.

“So he’s pissed then… Hmph, who wants to be the one to tell him everyone’s here? I’m not going anywhere near him when he’s in a mood like that.”

“Well, Prince Noah is still not here.”

“Really?? Oh man that’s some great news, I swear, little brothers are put on this Earth to take the blame for things. He’s really living up to his most important role in life!”

“Shall I go and find him? According to Phoenix, he’s out looking for me.”

“No don’t go, the longer he’s gone the more clout I get. In fact, I think you should go to my father and make sure he knows that Noah is the one holding this very important meeting up.”

Napoleon’s eye involuntarily twitches. “...I’d rather not.”

“Too bad! Your future King commands you to.”

“...Yes sir.”

Napoleon makes his way towards the door, and Xavier puffs up in anticipation.

“If my position as prince is enough to boss someone like Napoleon around, just imagine what I’ll be able to do once I’m King! I mean seriously, it can’t come soon enough!”

His reaction serves as validation for Trojia, and she begins to feel even more dread about her future as his Queen. It’s going to take everything she has just to tolerate being around him. Grabbing onto Niomyo’s sleeve and biting her lip serves to quell her bitterness over the fact that he’ll soon have so much power over her.

Everyone else in the room is anxious for an entirely different reason however. King James has a notoriously bad temper, and there’s no telling how he’s going to take a blatant disobedience that is specifically going to deliver him unfavorable news.

They all watch and take collective gasps of apprehension as Napoleon opens the door leading to the balcony; each step he takes outside seems to lack more resolve than the last.

“My King…” Napoleon says.

“....”

The only answer he receives is from the crisp morning wind.

The King’s back remains turned, he stares out towards the city and seems to ignore his General’s presence.

“I know you told me not to bother you until everyone arrives, but barring Prince Noah the rest are here in the suite.”

“....”

“My King?”

Napoleon takes a couple cautious steps towards the railing, and becomes suspicious at the King’s stunning lack of reaction. Inching closer to investigate, a discomforting sweat forms on his temple.

He reaches out his hand.

His instincts are screaming conflicting demands on him. If he touches the King and it turns out there wasn’t a valid reason to do so, he’ll most certainly be reprimanded. Could the King have just fallen asleep while waiting out here? Perhaps in his angered state he is purposely choosing to ignore everyone?

King James is a volatile person after all, and these are very realistic possibilities.

Yet the sense of a need to reach out overwhelms any lingering doubt on what to do next.

The people inside watching this unfold through the window in a stunned silence are sharing similar emotions to Napoleon, and none of them dare speak up as Napoleon’s hand finally makes contact with the King’s shoulder.

“My King, are you alrigh----”

With a gentle shake, the King’s severed head falls to the ground in a thud.

The clattering of his crown rolling along the stone balcony seems to last minutes; like a coin dropped from a pocket it rolls along with a life of its own before slipping through the gap of the railing and falling a over a dozen stories down.

“!?”

King James' glassy, lifeless eyes stare through the window, directly at Trojia and the others.

“Oh my god!” Daey bawls, her hand covering her mouth in horror. “The King is dead!?”