Ruthless

Chapter 4 - A Helping Hand

Being the Scriptor of the King was always against Dominic's wishes. The only reason he accepted this occupation, 494 years ago, was because his best friend was being held captive by the mighty king himself. He saw it as a way of using his gifts to keep an eye on his old friend.

He looked down at his 176 year old oak desk and sighed. He just had had a vision. It was about Tristan. He was sure of it.

This story goes on in a world filled with creatures; monsters, some vicious others fragile. But a Scriptor was definitely not one of those things. He was simply a mortal with a gift. But Dominic is a mortal who was made immortal.

He is called a 'Scriptor' because of his gift, a very special one. See sometimes, when a Scriptor closed their eyes, they could see words. A sort of vision, you could call it. These words that formed up the future of a certain individual.

That's why having a Scriptor was crucial for a king like Gabriël. This writer could tell him if he was to win a war, if his right hand would turn against him, if his life would end soon. And so on...

Dominic disliked his job in the castle and recently found himself looking for another to replace him, to take his place as a Scriptor. But he knew his kind was hard to find.

This gift was like a curse to him at times. Bringing bad news to the king would mostly result in having something thrown at him in mighty, supernatural speed. The king is not an easy man, everyone knew this. But it was loyal Dominic who dealed with his tempers every day. Most days, the king would be civil with him. Unless when things didn't go the way he wanted... But Dominic respected his ruler. He had to, in a way. 

What he saw on the paper, this kind of vision was never to be talked about. Not even to the king. Especially not to the king. Knowing of the highly crucial task Tristan was given, Dominic was sure he would succeed. But there was always a catch with Tristan.

He read what he had scribbled down. His own words sending a chill down his spine. His eyes stung, creating tears.

'Obeying and trusting his king no more.

The one the ruler wants, he'll adore.

Blood smeared over faces, it will end in war.

And your higness will get what he asked for.'

A soft knock on his door disrupted his thoughts. "Sir... Stellan and Debbie Delores are present. The king requested your presence." A servant girl said.

He took the old piece of parchment and threw it in the small fire burning in the gigantic fireplace.

Trouble was on its way. He could feel it in his gut.

---

Ruth thought back to the day in the restaurant. Just a week ago. How she stormed out of those doors like those awesome actors who walk away from an explosion. She felt like she had made a statement. And she certainly had.

What she didn't realise was, she made Tristan's silver heart beat faster.

She had gotten over him. Closure, finally. She shouldn't feel bad about what happened. I just got caught up in the moment. How could I have feelings for him, I don't even know him, she thought. But still, she couldn't deny the fact that she thought about Tristan. A lot.

A soft summer breeze came from her opened balcony doors and stroked her face. She was home all alone, even the housekeepers went out as it's sunday. She went out onto her balcony and looked at the beautiful night sky. It was a night just like the one in the meadow. Stop thinking about the night in the meadow.