The Prophecy of Moonlight

Chapter 1

The light of the full moon shone down on the high turrets of the castle. All was quiet and motionless. Except for the cloaked figure stealthily making his way along the side of the castle. He hugged the sides of the stone wall, the dark velvet of the night shrouding him from possible onlookers. The guards stood high up. However, most already knew about the man. They were only waiting for his signal.

The man found what he was looking for. Stepping into the light of one particular torch on the wall, he pointed his gloved index finger to the sky above and, muttering an incantation, sent a spiral of dark blue light into the sky.

That's when the previously still night ruptured with sudden noise. The expectant guards drew their swords from their hilts and turned to their confused companions. Scuffles broke out as the guards who were working with the cloaked man below cut down those serving the king.

Amidst the commotion, the cloaked man turned to the torch and, holding the base with a gloved hand, he rotated it to the right. The flame extinguished. It is replaced by dark blue colored smoke. The portion of the wall moved back, emitting the crunch of stone grinding against stone. An unlit hidden passage is revealed and the man walks through. Muttering an incantation, a ball of light the same color as the smoke illuminates the passageway. He makes his way through the passage, his soft-soled boots muffling his steps. He knows his way well and continues to move deep within the castle. Eventually, after much climbing of stairs and walking through different intersections, he reaches his destination and stops. He faces a wall indistinguishable from the others and places his palm flat against one of the stones at eye-level. The stone glows faintly and then, the portion of the wall slides to the left.

The man steps out and looks around him. He was in the king's chamber. The room was covered in rich, embroidered furniture and all had an extravagant look to it. But the man's eyes were drawn to the canopy bed set to blend with the red velvet theme of the room. King Wilhelm of Laelux was asleep, unaware of the intruder.

The man gave a slight chuckle. This is much too easy. Reaching into the folds of his pocket, he pulled a dagger. He had previously covered the end with a poison that, even with the smallest cut, would rapidly spread through the victim's body, freezing their blood and causing death within seconds.

The man couldn't help but smile. Slowly creeping past the numerous armchairs, he headed towards the bed. The king lay on his back, his face towards the ceiling. Even in a peaceful sleep, King Wilhelm had the complexion of a gravely sick man. He was a middle-aged man but already looked beyond his years. He was a weak king. Never able to walk or perform just about any task without the help of his servants, he had been unable to provide for himself, much less the kingdom.

The hooded man stood before him and held the dagger. He'd executed more difficult tasks than this. As he was about to plunge the knife in King Wilhelm's chest, the sound of a yell outside the door startled him. Silently cursing, he swiftly crouched below sight as fighting could be heard. The king woke up and gave in to a fit of hacking coughs that he was prone to.

Hunching down, the man decided on what to do. His men were supposed to have already disposed the Royal Guards. As King Wilhelm stopped coughing, the man made up his mind and sprang up to confront him, his hood falling down and revealing his face.

The king saw him and the glint of the dagger. With wide eyes, he asked in a raspy voice, "What? D—?"

He never finished. The man had already stabbed him. And no one would be able to save him because his Guards had met a similar fate. As the poison took the life out of him, King Wilhelm looked at the man with an expression of shocked betrayal.

"You never were fit to be king. Don't act so surprised," the man says with a sneer.

He watched as the life left the king's eyes. Outside, the fighting had stopped. As the man stood there, he felt a feeling of accomplishment.

"Long live the Dark Master," he said in a quiet tone, the words seeming to hang within the room and the entire castle itself.