Heir to a Bloody Throne

Chapter Two

Staring down at the sleeping nobleman, Valor wondered once more if he was doing the right thing.

He grimaced, pickaxe at his side swinging back and forth slightly. His father had killed hundreds of people for the better of this world, and yet the thought of killing someone in their sleep felt... wrong. Was it not better to be rid of an evil man without giving him the opportunity to hurt him in return? He would die either way. This man was no match for him.

Valor glanced up at the window. The town was virtually silent, broken only by the sounds of a few animals. Far too quiet, even for a town this small. He could fix this, just by taking out this one man, why was he so hesitant to do so?

His gaze lowered again. The man wore his armor to bed. What a coward.

As he watched, the man shifted, then his eyes opened. An instant later, they met his own and widened in horror.

"You!!" Valor grimaced, and took a step back. That moral conundrum had dealt with itself rather quickly. The nobleman shoved himself upright, grasping for his sword, babbling "Please, mercy!"

The next instant, Valor's blade was punching through his chestplate, buried in his chest.

Valor yanked the pickaxe free and let the nobleman slump onto the mattress, dead. He grimaced a bit at the blood staining the sheets - an unfortunate mess for the tavernkeep to clean up in the morning. Taking his father's pick, he hooked it under the man's corpse and pulled it onto the floor with a thump.

And then the door slammed open against the wall, the soldiers from before pouring inside.

Valor startled badly, leaping onto the table and sending a bolt of electricity to strike the first man. The lightning found his conductive armor easily, and he collapsed with a choked sound. The second soldier lunged at him, having recovered from his shock at seeing his master dead, and Valor parried a stab at his abdomen before bringing the pickaxe down on his head, killing him instantly. He was nearly knocked off balance when one of the soldiers slammed into the table, shoving it a foot and a half, and he narrowly avoided being skewered by a blade that flashed in the moonlight.

Lighting up his father's pickaxe once more, Valor slammed the electrified weapon into the offending sword, sending the soldier down as well. A fourth sword found his leg, and he gasped as blood began to trickle from the fresh cut. This wasn't good- he was off his game. He should go.

A sword flashed in the moonlight, and Valor teleported to avoid it, appearing behind his attacker and cutting him down with a single blow. He ducked beneath another swing, then bolted through the doorway, cloak flaring behind him as he dashed down the stairs. He didn't have much teleportation left in him- he should save it for when he really needed it.

The last of the tavern's patrons scrambled out of his way as he tore through the bar, slipping through the front door just in time to stay out of sight of the remaining soldiers. His heart thudded in his chest as he cut down a side street, and a matching throbbing in his leg reminded him of the injury he had sustained. Coming to a stop in the alleyway, Valor knelt down, surveying the damage. It wasn't deep, but it wasn't particularly shallow either.

A hand clamped over his mouth and dragged him backwards.

Valor shouted- though it was severely muffled - and teleported, using the last of his reserves to escape his attacker's grasp. He came face to face with the man, a tall, muscular man whose steely eyes were narrowed into slits as they surveyed his form. Valor inched to the right. He had to get out of here, fast, before the rest of his pursuers caught up with him. As he moved to dart to the left, though, the man spoke.

"You're not Herobrine." Val froze. Had his cover been blown already?! How would this man even know??

His hesitation was his downfall, as the man seized him by the wrist and dragged him into the building he had emerged from. Valor dug in his heels and yanked at his hand, but the man's strength was inhuman, and he dragged him towards the doorway with little effort. Tightening his grip on his pickaxe, Valor charged it with lightning and lunged at him, aiming for the man's heart, but the man grasped the handle before it touched him.

"There, see?" The man gritted out as Valor strained against his hold. "The real Herobrine would never attack me." That stunned him into inactivity. Had his father had some connection to this man? Or was it a trick?

Either way, he made no more resistance as he was dragged into the building and the door shut behind him. His wrist was released, and Valor immediately went for the door, but the man braced a hand on it to hold it shut.

"Hold on, now." He spoke gruffly. "I need to have words with you." Valor kept his mouth tightly shut. He wouldn't have his higher voice giving him away. In the candlelight that lit the small room, Valor could see the man looking him up and down, and he wished fervently for his teleportation to return long enough for him to escape. He amused himself instead by searching for another exit.

"Valor." The name had his head jerking back, and he immediately cursed himself for giving himself away so easily. "You're his boy, aren't you?" The man nodded to the pickaxe. "Where's your father, then? Why isn't he here?" Valor unclenched his jaw reluctantly - the game was up anyway. But when he spoke, his voice trembled.

"He's dead."

*

Valor sat before the small fire, poking at the logs with a stick as the man prepared him a small meal. The man had yet to tell him anything regarding his history with Herobrine, or how he knew him, for that matter, but he didn't seem keen on handing him over to the guards so he had put off his escape plans for now.

His thoughts kept wandering back to the nobleman. Who had he been, really? What had he been doing here? With him gone, Val should really just leave and put no more thought into the matter, but a nagging feeling continued to tug at his mind- he had messed up.

A bowl appeared in front of him, and he looked up to find the man offering him a bowl of porridge. Valor accepted it with a mute nod, spooning some of the salty mixture into his mouth.

"Why did you kill that man?" The stranger asked lowly, sitting down on the floor to his left. Valor swallowed.

"I'd heard of strife in this town... I saw him threatening the innkeeper, and thought... I assumed he was the cause." Speaking the words aloud made his conviction dwindle even further.

"Aye, as your father would have done." The man grunted. "Unfortunately, had you spent a little more time seeking information before you acted, you might have realized that that man was not the villain - in fact, he was sent from the capitol to deal with him." Val's heart sunk into his stomach. So he had been wrong. "A faceless mastermind has been harassing the townsfolk for a good few months now, and they finally sent to the kingdom for help. They would deal with him themselves, but he's never been seen, only those who work for him." The man side-eyed him. "And now their solution is dead." Valor didn't answer, staring guiltily into the flames.

"I suppose it's my duty to deal with the true villain, then." He mumbled after a moment.

"I think you've done enough damage." The man's tone was harsh. "The capitol will send another. Go home."

"I don't have a home." A note of irritation entered his voice, and Valor's chin snapped up as he glared at him. "I have no where else to go, and I must carry on my father's legacy. Who are you, anyway? Who are you to command me? And how do you even know who I am??"

Instead of responding, the man shifted, drawing a chain from beneath his shirt to reveal a sparkling, silver amulet.

"My name is Steven, and I was there when you were born."