Atalia

Chapter 1: Yes your highness

Atalia's brown hair was pinned tight up in a royal bun. Not a strand out of place, her brown eyes fixed on the task at hand. Her dress draped the bottom of the throne at which she sat.

Atalia's stern look burned through the pathetic mans eyes. He bowed his head, cowering, peeking up on occasion to avoid her burning eyes.

The guards around the room exchanged inconspicuos glances. They were all betting and one lucky winner tonight would win twenty gold coins and a free round of drinks at Oakly's Tavern. It was sick, betting on one mans fate, but the only way to survive the brutality of being the Queens guard was to make due with what you had. Even if it meant betting on a mans life.

The queen lifted her dainty hand and clenched it slowly, a gold light emanating from her fingertips and beneath the man, levitating him off the ground. The gold light swirled around the mans neck beginning to constrict his airways.

"What do you have to say for yourself...Agnes"

The queen emphasized his name with a spit of disgust. She did not hide her clenched fists and her twisted emotions towards this man. He was dead tonight and everyone in the room knew it

"Your highness, I know you're a mercifull woman... Please forgive me, I won't disobey again."

Atalia stood up abruptly, the gold light flickering away as red flames surrounded the bottom drapes of her dress, the man fell to the ground onto his knees and began gasping for the air he was deprived of. She unsheathed her closest guards sword and swung it blade side against his neck cutting it clean off.

The guards watched as the old mans head rolled around on the floor, lifeless. The mans eyes were filled with what once could be described as sorrow and pure remorse.

"Do not lie to me, I am not merciful and everyone knows this. You are no exception."

She kicked his head across the room.

"Agnus"

Atalia exited the throne hall and turned to her servant outside the gold doorway.

"Clean the mess. Burn the useless body and go to bed."

"Yes your highness."

The servant did as he was told as she walked away, never flinching.

The guards finally let out a solid breath, the one man picking his sword up that was flung across the room in a fit of anger. No one dared to speak.

"Where is she?"

A booming voice demanded.

The men turned to see another man in different armor than their own. This mans aura reeked of bravado. His shoulders were broad and he stood tall and proud at 6'4. His hair shined jet black and his eyes a neon green. Small stubble began growing around his chin and upper lip creating the outline of a beard.

Nathaniel Percival.

He was well known around kingdoms and three continents. Very unusual and very dangerous, no knight could claim the same. Yet he only gave loyalty to the Kingdom of Ethera. His home

The guards glanced at each other.

"I will not repeat myself men."

In unison they pointed out of the room. Nathaniel knew exactly where she was.

He looked to the side and watched as one of Atalia's servants cleaned the blood scattered across the wood and carpet.

"Another one?"