The Exiled King

Chapter 38 - The Martyr

Everything was cold and dark. Then, there was nothing.

And that was how the world ended.

Garyth Herus opened his eyes with a jolt, jerking upright. For a moment, he was utterly disoriented, then he took in his surroundings. He sat in a four poster bed in a room that was both familiar and a strange sight.

As he straightened, his hair fell in front of his face—inky blue black strands mixed with golden streaks.

Wait. Yellow... hair?

Garyth pushed aside his covers and slipped out of bed, the cold morning air making the hairs on his legs stand up. The tiles were freezing against his bare feet as he padded over to a mirror in the corner of his room.

WHAT IN THE ABYSS...?

Sure enough, his hair was no longer purely blue-black like he'd known it to be all his life, but was streaked with gold. As he took a closer look at his surroundings, the undeniable truth was beginning to set in. Everything from the four poster bed to the tacky piss-coloured wallpaper that adorned the room was identical to the room he had stayed in at Greyrose castle, hundreds of years past. But that had been before the royal house had split into two houses and the castle renamed.

Have I gone back in time? But that doesn't explain my hair... I've never had such strangely coloured hair.

As he was contemplating the situation, a rapid knock on the door drew his attention away.

"Enter," He said, hoping that whoever was knocking would confirm his suspicions.

The door opened, revealing an old man with salt and pepper grey streaked hair combed back neatly and a well kept trim beard. He had warm brown eyes and a face lined with the marks of a long life lived.

Zeke! He's alive! Garyth thought, a strange joy resurfacing within him, That confirms my suspicions...

Ezekiel Welwyn was the second son of the loyal vassal house Welwyn, who'd served the Herus family for generations.

"Your Majesty, I have brought your tunic for the coronation celebratory parade. Also, your horse is readied as you have requested," Zeke said, holding out a crimson and blue tunic that Garyth instantly recognized.

Well, if I've been given this second chance... I'll change EVERYTHING.

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"What a cruel and cold man Garyth Herus is... he completely changed after ascending."

"I know... I used to think he was a good man."

In the years that followed Garyth's ascension, rumours began to spread far and wide as he began to implement his plan. It was not that those barbed comments did not bother him, but Garyth Herus was a man who had stared down death and bore the determination to undertake the arduous and quite possibly futile task of changing the course of Dargon's future.

On the night of the coronation parade, Garyth Herus did not sneak out to enjoy the Harvest Festival. He did not want Ariane to see the kind of man he was going to become in order to fulfil his goal.

However, fate was a funny thing, and many years later, he crossed paths with her once again. And, like a fool, he fell for her again. But that was a decision that would later haunt him.

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Their daughter had just been born, and Garyth began to look into forbidden magic. He'd spent too many years and made too few changes. If he couldn't change Dargon's fate, it would soon be destroyed. The people of Dargon were too divided, but Garyth was uncertain if he alone could rally the people of Dargon together. A second demon war would surely bring the people together, but the magic to open gates between the Abyss and Dargon was strictly forbidden.