Death: The Fall of Endsville

Chapter Six: Pastries

Arthur sat on the cold stone bench in the castle garden, his knees drawn to his chest as he watched a group of children darting across the lawn in a game of chase. Their laughter echoed through the morning air, bright and carefree, filling the garden with a lightness that tugged at Arthur's heart. They were a picture of innocence, their faces lit up with joy as they ran, their shouts breaking the calm with bursts of delight.

He let his eyes linger on them, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he imagined himself among them, running and laughing without a care. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite place himself there. His world felt different now, weighed down by responsibilities and fears that he was only beginning to understand.

A familiar face came to mind, and he murmured his brother's name softly, "Richard." The name itself brought a feeling of warmth, and he smiled to himself, proud of his older brother. Richard had always been there for him, a constant source of strength and reassurance, steady even when everything around them seemed uncertain. There was something in Richard that made Arthur feel safe, like no matter how dark things got, his brother would find a way to make it all okay.

He'll make a great king someday, Arthur thought with a swell of pride. Better than anyone realizes.

But as he watched the children playing freely, his smile faded. He wondered if Richard missed these simple days too, if he ever wished for a life free from the weight of the crown. And as much as Arthur admired his brother, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness, knowing that they'd both lost something they could never get back.

A memory stirred in him then, a day from his past that felt distant but all too vivid, a day when he'd been given a glimpse of the darkness lurking within his own family. He had been only five at the time, and it had been one of the rare occasions when he'd been invited to spend a day with his uncle Ramon and his cousin Reven. Arthur had looked forward to it with a child's excitement, eager to see Reven, who was older by two years and always full of wild ideas and adventurous plans.

The day had begun with the thrill of something special, something different from his usual routine. He remembered stepping into Ramon's quarters, the grand but cold halls that seemed darker than the rest of the castle, with towering stone walls and heavy tapestries that made everything feel smaller, more closed in. Even at five, Arthur had sensed that there was something... off about the place, a feeling he couldn't name but that made him want to keep his distance from the shadows.

"Arthur, my boy!" Ramon's voice had boomed through the hall, and Arthur had looked up to see his uncle striding toward him with a broad, practiced smile. Ramon's hand landed on his shoulder, firm but not harsh, and he gestured toward a silver tray on a nearby table, stacked high with delicate pastries.

"Come, help yourself," Ramon had said, his voice smooth and encouraging. "You're family, after all. We'll treat you well here."

Arthur's face had lit up as he took a pastry from the tray, its flaky crust crumbling at his touch. He took a bite, savoring the burst of sweetness, and for a brief moment, everything had felt warm and welcoming. His uncle's gesture had seemed kind, the tray of treats a symbol of generosity. But the moment didn't last.

"Now," Ramon had said, patting Arthur's shoulder once he'd finished his pastry, "Reven is in the library, no doubt buried in some book again. Why don't you go find him? You'll have a fine day together."

Arthur had nodded, excitement building as he hurried off to the library, his small feet echoing on the stone floors. The corridors in Ramon's quarters felt longer and colder than the ones in the rest of the castle, and he shivered slightly as he made his way through them, the shadows seeming to stretch out around him.