The hallway was bright with morning light. Early shadows crept across the floor as the birds outside the large intricate window sang sweetly. The warm red rug contrasted with the cold stone of the floor and walls.
There, leaning lazily against the wall, was a man. He was dressed in simple clothing, an ill-fitting shirt, and a pair of worn trousers. A belt sat around his waist and a harness held the shirt to his torso.
He seemed somewhat impatient, tapping his foot in an irregular rhythm against the rug and glancing to his right where a grand door stood. Servants bustled up and down the hall throwing him wary glances as they passed.
Maybe it was the axe strapped to his belt that unnerved them, or maybe it was the way his fingers glossed over the hilt with an ease that showed his familiarity with the weapon, or maybe it was the strange white mask that sat over the upper half of his face, resembling the skull of an animal, though which animal exactly wasn't quite clear, with a smaller snout and long, sharp teeth that sat right above his mouth.
He breaks out of his impatient tapping as the door beside him clicks open, the hinges swinging without a creak. A young man leaves the room, looking unhappy. He doesn't stop to hold the heavy door for the man waiting against the wall, letting it swing shut behind him.
The man pushes himself upright, sighing once to himself before he pulls the doorknob down and slips through into the grand room. It's dark, not lit by any windows but instead torches lining the tall walls. The red carpet continued into this room, leading to a large table whose surface rose and fell erratically. There are illustrations marking the wood as well as town names all centering around the central kingdom. Past the table sits a large throne. It's on a raised platform, three steps up from the rest of the room—a massive tapestry hanging behind it.
There's a figure draped lazily on its seat, looking relaxed as he observed the masked man making his way towards him, a small smile gracing his face.
The man stops just short of the throne, stepping into a deep bow.
"Hale," The king says with a lighthearted voice. "Good to see you."
"You as well, King Holloway," Hale replies. He doesn't sound as happy to be here. There's a moment of silence in which the king observed the masked man before he speaks again.
"I have an issue," he simply states, skipping past any small talk and getting straight to the point. Hale straightens, listening. The king taps his foot on the ground once, then leans forward, standing from his throne in a lazy manner.
Hale looks at the king as he takes the steps down slowly. "And what might that be, my king?"
Holloway doesn't reply immediately, taking the last step down and continuing to the table in the center of the room. Hall follows without hesitation.
"I'm sure you've heard," The king begins, shaking his head in disapproval. "It seems as if one of our little towns here has gone and got a mind of its own." The king places a finger on the table, dragging it along the smooth edges as he walks towards the far end of it.
"Only gossip of it," Hale confesses.
"The talk of revolution, freedom, independence," The king says with a sneer, stopping near the end of the table and lifting his hand. The lighthearted tone and smile that the king had held are gone. "You understand, don't you?"
Hale gives a small hum of agreement.
The king's hand comes back, pointing towards a small town on the very edge of the map, a frown gracing his face. "The town of Northon." The smile returns once more, though this time it has a feeling of malice behind it. "An independent nation?" He gives a bark of a laugh. His hand traces the small illustration of buildings surrounded by miles of forest. "How foolish!"
Hale looks towards the king, seeing the look of hatred that swept across his face at the mere thought of such insolent behavior. Then his eyes turn towards Hale, and the hatred is burned straight into his soul. The room seems to darken.
He didn't know much of the small town, only having visited it a few times. But he knew how this would end for Northon, how it had ended for anyone who dare step out of line in the kingdom. After all, it was his job to silence those who had those foolish little ideas of independence.
"You know what to do, Hale?"
Hale looks towards the king, a solemn look on his face.
"I want them gone."
"Understood."
YOU ARE READING
SURVIVAL
Romance"As long as you do exactly what I say," he spoke with a lopsided smile, "No harm will come to you or your friends."
