What Lurks Behind The Trees

Flames

He stood, tall and powerful, watching the city from the windows in his chambers. The people looked like ants from here, ants he can crush with his boots. His blood boiled with anger every time these pesky rebels decided to emerge from the ground like worms. His father left him with a mission, a great opportunity that everyone was trying to steal from him. He was the king, the most powerful man in Osledel and no one was going to stand in his way, but these rebels added fuel to the fire that the escaped prisoners started and he couldn't take it. 

"You're losing control."

Edmund snapped his head back and glared at the man standing behind him.

"The people despise you."

"Stop" Edmund said, turning back to look out the window that showed him the view of the city. "You should be supporting me, not scolding me. After all Rogerus, you are my most trusted advisor..." He smirked "...and knight."

"I apologise, my King," The large man said. "But we need to find a way to stop this"

"We will discuss it with the flame council,"

Rogerus bowed and turned to leave "Rogerus," Edmund said. "I want Dyron Blackwood to be present in the meeting."

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The round room, a room where decisions and agreements were made. A room where the fate of the kingdom of Osledel was determined. A ring-shaped marble table framed the room, and behind it sat six chairs and a larger chair at the far centre of the table. The room was lit with six large torches and adorned with a round red saffron rug in the middle that accentuated the shape of the room. A lone chair was placed at the centre of the room, in the ring of the table.

Dyron walked in through the two copper doors with two guards walking beside him. He looked around in awe. The guards led him to the chair in the middle. He sat down warily as the six people at the table watched him. They each wore the same black mask, covering only their eyes and wore a blood red robe. These were the members of the flame council. Anonymous to the public.

The king walked in through the doors, his cloak swaying behind him as he strutted confidently to his large chair. The guards closed the copper doors disappearing behind them. King Edmund cleared his throat before speaking "The rebels are rising again,"

"We have received reports that state that these rebels appear mostly in the areas that suffer from severe poverty," A masked man said

"Find a way to quieten them,"

"My king, we are searching for their hideouts which they use for night meetings only,"

"Once you find their leader, I want you to bring them to me"

"Yes, my king"

"We will also decide what to do with the men that have escaped," Edmund said

"We have decided to label them as 'The Cursed', my king." One of the masked men said.

"Very well,"

Dyron sat in his chair awkwardly as the men spoke from around him. "Why am I here?" He asked. They all looked at him like they forgot he existed for a second.

"Your son is one of The Cursed, and the mastermind behind their escape plan," The man behind Dyron on the far right of the table said.

"My son did nothing in the first place!"

"Dyron, know your place," Edmund said threateningly, brown eyes narrowing in anger "Your son got attacked by the Night Slayers and became cursed with their spell. I hope you understand what that means."