𝒯𝒽ℯ ℛ𝒾𝓈ℯ 𝒪𝒻 𝒜 𝒬𝓊ℯℯ𝓃

Chapter |42| He's No More

W Y A T T ' S P. O. V ~ 12 hours earlier

As usual, I leave the bottle of scotch on Hardin's makeshift desk. It creaks slightly under my weight, forcing me to hold my breath and pray that it didn't collapse.

The table slanted slightly but stood still. I took a step back and let out a breath of air. Thank fuck for that.

I only ever have one shot in the morning, one shot to get me through what is already preordained as a shit day. A framed photo of Arabella is the only thing set on the desk, apart from the alcohol, and I smile almost immediately.

No wonder he put that photo there, for some reason it automatically blossoms hope inside my chest. The photos of Ajax and Rory are tucked away safely in one of my jackets I never wear, hidden safely in my wardrobe.

I can't believe I'm a father, the realisation dawns on me at least ten times a day and my reaction is always the same. Awestruck.

"Stop!" I heard one of my commanders yell and then suddenly a loud booming sound causes the ground to vibrate.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, running out of the tent. Lifting up the flap, I place my hand on my gun, drawing the weapon slowly.

A man suddenly charges at me, swinging a sharp axe in his hands. From the state of his clothing, I knew instantly that he was a rebel. I don't bother with my gun and instead, swing my sword around, and plunge it into his neck.

The man drops like a fly. I stare him for a moment. This should hurt me, it should pain me to kill a man. Yet, after so much bloodshed and loss it doesn't. All I feel now, is this desire for revenge.

I ran out further into the campsite and search for my priority. Hardin.

My mind races, trying to think of all the places he could have gone. The infirmary, the bathrooms, the war tent. There's just too many.

"General Wyatt!" One of my commanders yells. I'm forced to head over to him straight away, and pull out my gun, shooting the two rebels attacking him straight in the head.

I give him my hand, pulling him up. "Where's the King?" He frantically looks around, panic stricken and afraid. "Hey, this is no time to be scared. You are a soldier, you can fight them and save your King."

"I think he went to the bathrooms, but I'm not sure."

"Get as many people as you can to the war tent, hold your ground and kill as necessary." I picked up one of the dead men's axes and swung it over my shoulder.

The bathroom were on the other side of camp, and from look of it, I wouldn't be getting there easy. A huge fire began to spread along the right side, and I watched helplessly as my men screamed as the fire latched onto them. Others were fighting furiously against the rebels, trying to protect their Kingdom and losing their lives in the process.

So much death, for what? Power?

The bathroom were utterly destroyed, burnt to the ground completely and turned into nothing but ash. "Hardin!" I bellowed, cursing as four rebels emerged forward. I noted the daggers in their hands and smirked. "Let's do this."

My body was a machine, and performed in the same way I was trained to do. I swung, stabbed, sliced, cut until finally I was surrounded by nothing but dead bodies.