A Bloody Coup

Amber and I sat in a carriage while Jaeger, Faelar, and Lucius walked with the rest of the scouts as we traveled under the night from Erevayn to the capital, Myradel—the Kaisergrad of Ur.

“Nadya finally wrote back,” Amber responded as she looked out of the carriage window. “She’s worried about everything.”

“Naturally,” I replied as I read through Lianne’s letter that arrived shortly before we left. “And it appears my wager on Remus proved to be correct.”

“He’s housed the rebels in Luxion?” Amber’s gaze shifted to me.

“He has,” I passed the letter to her. “And he’s even agreed to providing the troops of the city against Fredreich.”

She scanned the letter, her eyes following every line of text with meticulous detail before turning back to face me. “I don’t know... What if he betrays us?”

“Oh, he would if he had anything to gain out of it,” I chuckled to myself. “Right now, he’s the next in line to the throne, and should anything tragic happen to Fredreich, he’d be the next to rule all of Mittengrad.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she folded the letter and passed it back to me. “So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“If Alaric is deposed tonight, why would Fredreich keep fighting?”

“I think it’s his lust for power more than anything else,” I shook my head. “He’s just like Alaric. He’d go to extreme lengths to get power and justify it.”

“I don’t think so,” Amber stared back out of the window. “I think he’s just—” But before she could finish her thought, the carriage came to a halt and Faelar opened the door.

“We’re here,” he looked at both myself and Amber.

Stepping out of the carriage, and sure enough, we stood approximately a mile away from the castle. Contrasting the castle at Mittengrad’s Kaisergrad, this one seemed to be made entirely out of marble, shining under the moonlight as the crescent flags of Ur flew high around it.

Lucius came walking up to the three of us, his expression almost unreadable. “Matthew’s forces already roam the city,” he eyed the three of us. “It’s best if you wait here while my forces and his raid the castle.”

“I’m sorry, Lucius, but that’s not possible,” she clenched her fist. “I must face him directly.”

“But your majesty—”

“Take me to the castle, Lucius,” Amber’s eyes unmoving as she stared at Lucius.

“Very well, your highness,” Lucius bowed slightly. “Then please stay close by.”

With that, we departed and made our way through the city’s streets. Troops marched alongside us as Faelar, Jaeger, and I walked closely alongside Amber.

Just as soon as we reached the gates of the castle, Lucius walked up to the front, facing the guards at the gate. “Let us through,” he roared, “if you wish for us to spare your life.”

The guards readied their spears, but in an instant, a barrage of arrows pierced their armor and had them fall to their knees as Lucius and the other scouts broke through the gate. The bells in the castle towers started to ring, and soldiers in full armor started rushing to meet us in front of the steps leading up to the castle.

The scouts sent arrows flying in mere seconds, some rushing to the front lines with their swords, taking on the heavily armored guards with relative ease. Soon, Matthew’s men joined our revolt with soldiers clad in red joining the fight.

Steel clashed with steel as we made our way into the castle, with Faelar sending the occasional stray arrow flying with a slice of his sword. The white interior of the castle was covered in the blood of men that desperately tried to defend it.

We made our way from carpeted corridors, lined with carpets, to halls adorned with jewels and chandeliers that came crashing down as men continued to brawl, screams echoing throughout.

Eventually, most of the guards started either surrendering or running, as cheers boomed throughout the castle. Lucius urged both his and Matthew’s men onward to the throne room, in which Alaric resided.

We spiraled up staircases and passed through corridors once more, this time, with minimal resistance as the servants of the castle scurried away, sometimes screaming, until eventually we reached the throne room.

Unlike Mittengrad’s Kaisergrad’s enclosed room that had to be opened and closed, the entire section of the floor acted as the throne room, with an ornate, delicate throne at the very center, the ones beside it clearly defiled and broken down.

An incredibly old man, with shriveled fingers, and a disheveled beard sat on top of the throne, his neck as if completely limp, pointed toward the few guards that remained by his side.

However, their defense proved unsuccessful as Faelar countered their charge with a spell that sent them flying back. The troops eventually surrounded Alaric on his throne, as he looked on in utter shock and confusion.

Amber walked up to the king, her hand outstretched, glowing purple. “Alaric Ashvale, for the murder of Regus, Arthur, William, and Frank Ashvale, how do you plead?”

Alaric looked up at Amber, his lips turning into a sly smile. “YOU!” he laughed like a madman, “YOU THORN IN MY THROAT, YOU WRETCHED CHILD, YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE MY THRONE FROM ME!” he bellowed as his words turned into a fit of coughing.

“Ambrose Ashvale…” he continued to cough as he looked up at her, “I know who you are, and I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

“How do you plead, Alaric?” Amber’s voice echoed through the room, surprising even me.

“Guilty,” he proceeded to laugh, coughing in between, as if he took great pride in it.

Amber’s hand glowed deep red, as a fire started to engulf Alaric, his coughs turning into screams of agony. The smell of burnt flesh and smoke made me gag until a few seconds later, everything went quiet.

I tried going over to Amber, but the swarm of soldiers rushing past prevented me from being able to go any further as chants of “Long Live The Queen” filled the room.