the fall of a tyrant

TW -  blood and death

By all means that day was a perfect spring day, the sun bathed the earth in a warm glow. That made every frown turn around. Purple violets, which seemed before frail, had bloomed in the glistening fields as the apple blossoms strayed in the sun's warmth. What ruined this perfect day was the fog that seemed to encase the castle in ever growing fear and dread.

The empire was by no means perfect, the poor suffered as the rich lived in luxury. But what made this empire so feared, was not the heavy divide of rich and poor. Instead it was the emperor himself.

The 57th Emperor, Luca La Cuesta; the most feared emperor in all of the 400 year history of the empire. But it wasn't the fact that he was one of the few archmages or how deadly he was on the battlefield. Instead it was his deepening insanity.

Once; what seems like a very long time ago, he was praised for his talents, respected for his power. But suddenly he snapped, he became more cruel, less patient, and above all insane.

No one knows the reason for the change. Some say it was a curse of those who fell from his blade. Others say it was rejection at the hands of the one closest to him. But most believe it was the power.

They say all that power went to his head. All that praise made his ego grow. All that respect made his humanity shrink.

All that fear turned into something new, The desire for change. Over the years more and more people joined the ever present rebellion.

Emperor Luca seemed to not care of his impending doom. Instead he seemed blissfully unaware of his country's ruin. Though the rare times when he did seem aware, he was as cruel and insane as any man could be.

And then the day arrived when the deciding factors would seal the empire's fate. The Emperor in all his glory, only stared out of the throne room's large windows. His moon-like hair glowed in the dim light.

"If only..." Suddenly Luca's legs gave way, a round of coughs threatened to make surface. If not for the vial of what looked like a witch's stew he held; he wouldn't be able to move, let alone talk.

Like nothing had happened he walked flawlessly to the throne.

And that's where he waited, and waited for his executioner to arrive. To his surprise they sent a past friend instead of a stranger. How kind.

"Ohhh" he laughed as the black haired knight walked closer, "what do we have here? A traitor?"

"I am no more a traitor than you" the knight sneared.

"Oh, it's you, Handrin," Luca spat out disgustingly. "Like always you're no fun. But maybe your blood would be funner. Hm?...oh wait are you playing executioner. How funny. "

"That-"

Before Handrin could finish, Luca started to yell, "A FRIEND TURNED TRAITOR, now this will be fun."

"Enough with your games, you seem very much aware of what awaits you. So who am I to deny you?"

Luca in mid-laugh paused; blood rushed to his mouth, threatening to spill with the tiniest sound. 'I thought I had more time' he thought as he found the strength to speak, "ohhhh you remembered, how sweet your blood will be."

Handrin sighed, "it seems like there isn't any redemption for you after all."

And with that he brought his sword up, plunging it into the chest of the insane emperor. As the crimson blood finally spilled out of Luca's mouth and the pain seemed to dull, he smiled. The streak of blood still running down his chin, dripping down onto the floor he smiled.