Chapter 28: Blood on the Throne

Maelis stepped forward. “Father, let me introduce these gentlemen, they saved me from the bandits.”

The king regarded them, eyes narrow. “Did you truly save my daughter?” he asked, then looked at Maelis. “Tell me their names.”

Maelis blinked. “Oh their names are Asual and… I don’t know the other one’s name.”

“No, my foolish child,” the king said with a sharp laugh. Zephric, standing close by, thought how strange a man his father could be.

“Alright,” the king continued, “one of you tell me who attacked my men and my daughter.” Everyone in the throne room immediately dropped to their knees. Maelis remained at the king’s side.

Asual raised his hand. “My king, may I speak?”

“Go on,” the king permitted. “What do you have to say?”

“It was the Raven of the South,” Asual declared.

A murmur ran through the hall; people rose as if pushed. “What? Really them?” someone whispered.

Asual met the king’s gaze. “There were maybe a hundred to a hundred and fifty of them. My men and I were passing by when we heard screams and laughter. We hurried over and found many royal guards on the ground, some dead, some wounded. The enemy came on horseback and were strong fighters.”

“Hold.” The king’s voice cut through. “Did any of you kill the enemy? You say they had horses, yet when my men searched the ground they found only footprints. There were no Raven banners, the South Raven always leaves their flag. In short, there were only royal guards and whoever you are. Tell me the truth.”

At those words, the king’s guards drew their swords, axes and spears and pointed them at Asual’s men. Asual’s people surrendered, hands raised.

Mateo’s IF whispered into his mind: IF, are there Raven bandits? The tiny voice answered: Yes, they’re there.

Mateo snapped his teeth and stopped time.

He cast a spell he’d learned long ago, a naming spell. “By the Third Child, grant me the ability to go back to where I came from.” The power pulled him across space, and when he wrenched his eyes open he stood in a dim hall where men lay sleeping. Mateo cursed. He had to act quickly. He could only take people from their beds; he had two hours.

He moved like a thief among the snoring forms, hauling out fifteen men from their packs and dragging them away. “Ugh,” he muttered. “I should have brought Asual. He can stop time too.” Mateo remembered the first child’s boon and the fifth child’s gift, powers that could twist time and fate. He felt the weight of what he’d done and teleported back to the throne room.

He tapped Asual on the shoulder. Asual turned, eyes cold. “So we’ll just kill each other now?”

“Come down,” Mateo said quietly.

“Why is time stopped?” Asual demands.

“I stopped it,” Mateo replied. “I need your help.”

Asual stepped forward and, without ceremony, drew a dagger from his belt. “This is the man who took my family,” he said, voice low. His face had changed; something darker lived in his eyes. “I will kill him.”

“Do it,” Mateo said. “But first”

Asual’s mouth opened. It looked like a black pit, an absence of everything. Mateo’s skin crawled; the man looked almost less than human.

Before Asual could strike, Mateo gripped the king’s shoulder and murmured an incantation. “By the Fifth Child, grant me the power to rewind time.” Nothing happened the rewind failed but Mateo’s next move did: he released the king from stasis. The king’s breath hitched; color returned to his face.

The throne room rushed back to motion. The king blinked, confused but alive. “I believe you helped my daughter,” he declared hoarsely. “You will be rewarded as she wishes.” He settled back onto the throne and scanned the room, fury in his eyes.

“Stand back!” an officer barked. No one moved. The king snapped; he swept a golden cup full of water toward one of his soldiers. The cup struck with such force that the king’s left ring finger fell away. Blood spattered across the marble, and when he brought his hand to his ear it came away an empty, bloody stub. He staggered, screaming.

Asual advanced. “I am here to take your life, my king,” he said.

“Men! Attack them! Kill every single one!” the king roared.

Asual stood over him like a shadow. “It’s no use. No one will help you.”

The king tried to run but his legs failed under him. Asual hauled him back to the throne and, without hesitation, took out the dagger again. Mateo watched the blade glint and felt a chill: that knife was not ordinary.

Asual moved with cruel efficiency. He cut another finger, laughed as the king screamed, and then, lost in some savage hunger, started to remove nails, tear at the king’s ear, pluck out an eye. Mateo’s face went numb; he had done terrible things before but watching this was different. He felt complicit, helpless.

“You want me to tie him up?” Mateo offered, but Asual only shook his head. He wanted to kill with his own hands.

When Asual stabbed the king through the neck, the monarch gasped one last, wet sound and crumpled. Asual stood limp, breathing. Silence fell like a heavy cloth.

Mateo placed a hand on the king’s forehead and whispered, “Receive, the Twelfth Child gives you the ability to return.” The words were a pledge, a binding. Around them the room smelled of copper and fear.

People wept, screamed, and knelt. The kingdom had just lost its king; the throne had been stained in a way history would remember.

Mateo looked at Asual and saw what the man had become: a weapon forged by grief and rage. Mateo knew he was not innocent either. In the quiet after the killing, a new game had begun.

© 2025 Ahmadyaar Durrani. All rights reserved.