The Second Side

Chapter 2

"Rise up, my brave warriors!" shouted Regan. "Rise up and take arms, my brothers and sisters, and together we shall take justice for our people!"

A great roar erupted from the soldiers, gathered rank upon rank beneath his balcony. A ramshackle army if there ever was one, but no army ever held greater passion, greater determination to win. Regan lifted his hand, and the people fell silent. He knew how to address a crowd, pausing a minute before he spoke again.

"If they call us demons, then demons we shall become!"

An even greater cheer rose among them now. Regan would be lying if he said that he did not enjoy the power that he held over them. Someone began to chant, a single person, but soon enough others joined and then the crowd was one, chanting.

Long live the king.

Regan was that person, once. He was the one man who began to shout, who raised his voice above the others to shout a cry of revolution. And, like the chant of the crowd before him, his rebellion spread slowly until he had an army at his feet. Suddenly, he was a king.

He left them to their revelry. It was important to keep up morale, to remind them all why they were fighting, especially after suffering another defeat at the hands of the militia. He scowled when he thought about it. It had been humiliating, having to order another retreat, and all because of that one man. The Sword of Light.

He swept into his chamber room, more of a ceremonial title than anything else. He didn't have a throne or a crown, he was a king in name only. His chamber room consisted of a long elliptical table, around which sat his advisors and generals. They rose when he entered and made his way to his seat, at the head of the table.

His closest advisor was a reprehensible man. Truly, Regan hated nothing more than spending time in the man's company, but he couldn't not deny that the man was a genius, and had contributed more to their victories more than any other. If not for him, Regan would be little more than a man with a few radical ideas. Still, that didn't change the fact that Regan could barely stand the sight of him.

The man bowed. "King Regan, you honour us with your presence. We were just discussing our latest defeat."

Regan nodded. "Then do not let me interrupt, Tarashi." He took a seat, and his guests followed suit. "Please, continue."

Discussion raged, but after an hour of intense discourse even Regan was beginning to tire of the sound of voices. The general consensus, the obvious truth, was that their downfall could be contributed to one single soldier, the one they knew as the Sword of Light. And yet, not one of his subordinates could give a single suggestion of how to deal with him.

Regan sighed inwardly. They were mostly useless, these people.

He stood abruptly, and all discussion halted. Without a word, he strode forcefully across the room and, using the magic that ran in his veins thicker than blood, he wrenched open the heavy oak doors with a wave of his hand. A girl stood there, caught listening in on secret affairs. She did not look the slightest bit embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping, in fact her ice blue eyes betrayed no hint of emotion whatsoever.

Regan glared at her. "I do not recall inviting you to attend this meet, Desdemona."

She inclined her head, her jet black falling around her face. "My apologies, father." He voice held no inflection, not sounding the least bit sorry at all. "I shall refrain in the future."

He sighed, and turned to his advisors. "Be gone for today," he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Hastily, they gathered their things and rushed out of the room, not wanting to intrude any further on the king's family. Only Tarashi dared even look her in the eye as he passed, and it was to give her a scathing glare.