A Crown and A Curse

Prologue

The broken man rode across the waves of the Estulian Gulf, his ship cutting through the surf like a blade. His eyes were fixed on the shining light of the city before him, its splendor revealing itself with every passing minute. Night air whipped through the sails as the ship grew closer to the dock, and with this closeness, the man's apprehension grew. Tonight, he would do terrible things. His would become one of the most hated names in a country he had yet to even step foot in. But... he would also become a king, that is, if everything went according to plan.

In truth, he had no ill-will towards Drimore, taking it for his own was simply a means to an end. Its location was central and its military not strong enough to unclench his grip on the throne once it was secured. He actually found himself becoming fond of the nation's beautiful shoreline, drinking in the luster of the colorful homes and cobblestone streets, as the ship docked. Certainly, he wished Drimore no real harm.

He slipped into character, a diplomatic smile dancing across his features as he shook hands with the nobleman sent to greet him and his men. The procession that approached him was small, one man who was clearly a high-ranking noble, and about a dozen palace guards. The nobleman stepped forward from the group, moving to welcome the party.

"Good evening," The noble greeted him,"Your Highness, King Nikolas welcomes you and your people to Stonevale. I am Raimo Kallio, right hand to the King, and I will be escorting you to the palace." The man resisted the urge to grin at the title of 'Your Highness.' In his letters, sent ahead of the ship, he had portrayed himself to be a prince from the Eastern Continents, a place unfamiliar to most Istrians, as the Eastern islands were a far sail and tended to keep to themselves. The King barely questioned him at all before agreeing to his visit, practically jumping with naive curiosity.

The man offered a charismatic wave of nonchalance, "Thank you for welcoming us so graciously, sir. I look forward to seeing as much as I can of your fine country in the coming weeks. And please, call me Samael, no need for such formality among future allies."

Kallio, an older man who seemed a seasoned member of the court, narrowed his eyes. Though he made no other tells towards suspicion, Samael could sense that the noble thought something was amiss. Sameal knew he could not take any risks, everything had to go perfectly. He wouldn't accept anything less. So he dug into the power inside him, the power that had driven so many to follow him, and shattered his opposers from the inside out. He called to the power that drove him from his home to these distant shores.

His voice was melodic when he spoke next, "You will show me directly to the king's chambers and then you will go to bed and sleep until it's too late." Samael watched with sadistic satisfaction as Kallio's eyes glazed over, the man turned dazedly and opened the door of the opulent carriage behind him. Samael stepped in leisurely, his small group of men walking in rank outside with the Drimorian guards, he would bring the rest over once the throne was secure, his entire group of followers was too large to bring on a single ship.

Kallio sat in the carriage across from Samael, the dazed stare still on his face. Samael paid him no attention, gazing out the window at the city before him, the snow capped rooftops starkly contrasting against the brightly painted homes and shops that lined the cobblestone streets. Still though, the palace loomed closer, splendid in its grandeur, with towers of bluestone that almost blended into the night sky. Samael couldn't quite believe that soon it all would be his to mold as he saw fit. At the gates, curious guards stopped the procession.

"When they come to the window, tell them to let us pass so that the King's visitors may get to rest after their long and tedious journey," Samael ordered Kallio, disinterestedly.

He scarcely paid attention to Kallio's exchange with the guards, impatient to get to work inside the castle. Much had to be done, and he needed the cover of night. The carriage began to move forward, through the gates and into a large garden, the path to the palace was lined with silverbirch and kielo flowers, growing fruitfully despite the coming winter.

Samael stepped out of the carriage and followed Kallio past the guards at the palace door. The grand foyer was striking, walls of white stone held up a ceiling five floors high, silver and bluestone were etched into the walls, forming intricate designs of flowers and snowflakes. A single crimson rug ran along the entrance and up the grand stairway. Samael grinned at the sight of what would be his, what practically already was his.

He turned to his men, "Gather all of the royal children in the throne room, I want every last heir to this place bleeding out within the hour. I will bring the King and Queen myself." He then smirked at Kallio, "Lead the way."

Samael followed Kallio eagerly through the twisting halls of the palace, pushing the man to go faster and faster before they were finally outside the royal chambers. Samael felt the presence of the three guards protecting the King before they even noticed him. He felt  no remorse as he grasped their minds, turning them into his own weapons to wield. He then turned to Kallio, "Go to your chambers and sleep."

The room was dimly lit, but Samael could make out the slumped forms of two figures slumbering soundly. It would be so easy to simply crush their minds, to kill them from the inside with less than a blink. However, this option was also less enjoyable, and didn't give the message Samael wanted to leave, that Drimore's new king was not someone to be tested. First he whispered into the queen's mind, Wake up and walk to me, don't make a sound.

The queen slowly rose from the sheets, as if sleepwalking. He left her mind conscious as her body followed his instructions. She moved forward, horror in her eyes as she spotted the knife in his hand. She tried to scream, but her lips remained sealed shut. She trembled in his arms as he turned her to face the bed, knife against her throat.

Samael didn't use magic on the king, not yet, he turned to his puppet guards, "Wake the king and restrain him."

They soundlessly did as he ordered, shaking King Nikolas awake and holding his arms behind him firmly. The king slowly woke, becoming aware of the situation around him.

Cursing angrily in Drimmish, he hissed at his guard, "What is this?" His eyes were clouded with both sleep and rage, "Release me at once!"

The guards stared forward aimlessly, not seeming to hear him. Nikolas turned his fury on Samael, stopping short when he realized who was in his grip.

"Karoliina?" He asked, searching his wife's face and seeing the terror there.

"What is the meaning of this? Release her!" He demanded of Samael, who was watching with cruel amusement.

"I have a dagger at your wife's throat. I believe I am the one who will be giving the orders here," Samael replied coolly, "Now, we are going to walk to the throne room, you will not fight, yell, or make any attempt at escape or I will slit her throat and give your children the same fate."

Nikolas gulped, swallowing his rage, though his body still trembled with it. He didn't nod, but looked forward, refusing to acknowledge the order, but following it all the same.

"Very good," Samael waved the guards forward, "To the throne room."