A Most Dangerous Weapon

Prologue: The Nightmare

It's always the same.

I'm standing in the darkness. No matter where I look, all I see is black. It consumes the air around me, blending seamlessly into the solid ground below my feet; I can't tell where one ends and the other begins. I have explored every direction but it always seems like I'm frozen in the same spot. I keep my eyes and ears peeled for any changes, but nothing ever happens. I've been banished to the empty.

And then I close my eyes painfully tight and wait for the ringing to start. It gets louder and louder with every passing minute, but I have to wait until my ears begin to bleed before I can open my eyes again; a moment too soon and I return to the silence and darkness. Once the crimson liquid begins to waterfall and the pain becomes beyond bearable, I am permitted to look.

I am caught in the middle of a warzone. Romallians and Galacians are clashing swords with such fervour, stepping over dozens of broken and lifeless bodies to get to their next target. Their faces are painted with blood, both of their enemy and their own. Weapons are plunged into throats, limbs, abdomens, skulls and hearts. The wounded are wailing in pain as they wait for their inevitable demise. Thousands of soldiers rage on as they drop one by one on both sides. It's impossible to determine which side is winning, but I guess that's the point; in a war sparked by two feuding royals, the people always lose.

In a flash the fighting has stopped and silence falls once more. The entire battlefield is littered with the dead; there isn't a single soul still fighting for survival. I search for a familiar face, both friends and enemies, in hopes of finding meaning in this disaster, but I'm left wanting.

And then I notice my own appearance. I'm completely drenched in blood from head to toe, like a red beacon of slaughter. I am riddled with wounds, but not all of the blood is attributed to me. It's at this moment that I am permitted to tightly close my eyes again and wait for the unbearable ringing. The fresh blood from my ears blends seamlessly into the painted horror on my body. I can finally open my eyes.

The darkness returns and I have a fresh appearance. I begin to search the darkness in vain.

I am forced to cycle through the empty and the chaos over and over again. I can't decide which I hate more, for they both became excruciating over long stretches of time. Just when I think I've escaped the worst of the two, I begin to long for the previous space. It's impossible to find the lesser of two evils when I am the one to blame. I am the architect of this nightmare; I am my own worst enemy. All I can do is wait for the transition where I finally open my eyes and I'm back in my bedroom.

But this time there's something different...

I'm in the warzone closing my eyes, waiting for the ringing and blood. But nothing happens. I open my eyes and scan the horizon. I spot the difference instantly.

He's standing a few leagues ahead, surrounded by the bodies of his enemies. He's frowning as he looks to the ground. He bends down slowly, reaching out with a shaky hand. When he begins to rise and straighten his posture, I can see that he's holding the Romallian crown. His frown deepens; he seems to be debating something internally as he turns it in his hands.

My feet begin to stomp forward without my permission. He spots me instantly. Sensing something in my stride and demeanour, he grabs a sword from a fallen soldier and holds it at the ready.

I stop a few feet away from him. The words come tumbling out... "This isn't how it was supposed to end."

His voice is commanding, despite his shaking hands. "Revenge is a tricky thing, Candra. You should know that better than anyone."

"Tell me you didn't do it."

"I'm surprised you would even ask me that."

"That's not an answer."

"We're all just monsters hunting other monsters. It's hard to decide who is meant to win."

"I refuse to accept that."

"After a lifetime of revenge and justice, blurring the lines to kill when you think it's right, you don't get over it... you get used to it."

"That's what I was afraid of."

He clutches the crown tighter in his left hand as he raises the sword a little higher in his shaking right hand.

I raise my own sword in preparation for the upcoming slaughter. "Tell me you didn't do it..." I repeat venomously.

"Do what you have to, Candra. We both knew this day was coming."

"I'll kill you..."

He sighs, "Shall we begin?"