Court of Feathers

Seventeen ½

Word Count: 1,566

His hands clenched uncontrollably, his leg felt stiff from holding the gun in its hidden holster that felt like a lead weight threatening to pull him to the ground. Currently hidden in between one of the castle's large interior columns next to the king's chambers he was sure no one could see him, that's how most guards' positions were, but that still didn't ease his conscious any more than it should have for what he was about to do.

His hand over the gun twitched as a maid scurried around a corner, and he slowly released the breath he had been holding in the moment he saw her, but only when he was sure she wouldn't turn around and come back.

The paint over his scales along the side of his face and down his neck itched and he suppressed himself from reaching up to relieve the discomfort. Just a little longer, he assured himself, just a little longer, then he could take the wretched stuff off, then he could finally unfurl his wings and glide back down to the Surface, home. He could finally get rid of the weight crushing his windpipe and tell Emperor Zarkon himself that the job had been fulfilled.

Egar's objective was simple enough, much easier than any Galra duty assigned on the Surface, comparing it to the others, and any other soldier would jump at the opportunity to do what he was doing now, but, now that he was here, he wasn't sure if he wanted this job anymore. He couldn't stand the nerves bundled in his stomach and the threat that if this job wasn't finished, he would be, in front of a firing squad the moment he returned home.

Ever since he was born, Zarkon determined his fate and ordered his family to train him to be only one thing: an assassin, trained since birth to be ruthless and cruel. Getting higher scores than anyone else on the shooting range sealed his fate for the job. He first killed an avian when he was eight, and countless more after. He got the order to finally do what he had been trained to do his whole life: assassinate the Altean king. He waited countless hours to try out for the castle guards, a few days later he finally received his uniform to start the job, he's been working through the ranks ever since toe get to where he is now: sitting undercover in a castle guard's uniform, just outside the king's private chambers. It took phoebs to get to where he was now standing, a trusted guard to the crown, so trusted, in fact, that he was given the duty of watching over the king's room while he slept for the night. But it was likely a once in a year shift, so it had to be done tonight.

King Alfor was already retired to his room for the night. He had walked to the doors, which Egar opened with a brisk bow, and the king himself nodded back to him in return.

"Avian's," Zarkon had said to him before he had set off for the mission, "are cruel and unjust, the crown rules over their people with an iron fist and kill any children the king deems unjust to live under the protection of the Quintessence. We can save these people from their misery, but only if the king is dead."

But something didn't seem right to him, even with the small glimpses he had of King Alfor up until this point, he didn't look like a killer. Egar's keen ears never heard the wailing of mothers at night over their dead children and the citizens on the street never spoke a single ill word of their ruler. King Alfor, to the people, was a kind, gentle-hearted king, he raised his children to freely mingle with their subjects, even that boy, known to the people to be a prince, had friends outside the castle walls and they often came to the castle to visit him.

The royal family didn't sound like killers, but, hearing about his own kind on the streets, Egar knew their hatred towards the Galra wasn't as it sounded. Zarkon's life goal was to eradicate the weak, make their race pure and strong. He knew the people's interests in his heart, but the Galra Empire had no room for error, especially at this point, not when they were so close to taking back their territory that the Alteans stole out from under them.

They're the monsters, he reminded himself, not the Galra. The Galra were trying to make this planet better.

He couldn't back down now. This whole plan was carefully carried out and executed from beginning to end and Egar couldn't afford to mess this up. With the assured arrival of the Other Landers, both the prince and princess were out in the city, and all of the advisors by this point were home and asleep, it had to be now, he had to do this now.

Taking a deep breath and trying to steady the quick racing of his heart, Egar wiped the paint away from his face exposing the collage of purple scales marking his face as a Galra, got his feet moving, and opened the door to the king's chambers.

Once he was sure the door was securely closed and locked, he turned, and froze. His heart dropped to his feet once he noticed that the king, even though he had retired to his room hours ago, was not in bed. Instead he was sitting at his desk, looking over stacks of notes and important papers for the next day of work.

"Coran, I believe I told you that you can retire for the night, I will not be needing anything more from you." His voice was deep as he continued to face his work and Egar, for a moment, wanted to slip back out and leave the king in peace. He'll just go back to his post, and pretend none of this had ever happened, they could find someone else to get the cursed job done.

Too late, he thought as his mouth seemed to move on its own, "I am not Coran, Your Highness."

"Oh?" The king stood and turned around facing Egar, his arms were crossed loosely behind his back. "Of course you aren't." He raised an eyebrow taking in the Galra, "And part of the Galra Empire I see."

Now that he was obviously exposed as part of the Galra Empire, he wasted no time in pulling the gun from its hidden holster under his jacket, training it right over the king's heart, Egar's hands were shaking by this point, but he couldn't back down, not now, not when they were so close.

Alfor didn't freeze or flinch, instead he looked calmly at the weapon aimed to take him down as if it were nothing but a harmless bug. "Ah, you've come to get rid of me," he said, calmly speaking about his own execution as if he were talking about how pleasant the weather is. The king nodded in the direction of the gun Egar gripped in his hands. "I admire that you've come this far." His hands fell to his sides, not bothering to shield himself as the king looked calmly into his eyes. "It'd be a pity to fail now, but, what if you were to realize that Zarkon isn't the man you've grown up to know?"

"Stop it!" Egar shouted, he was barely able to keep the weapon still by this point. He was shaking so badly he was surprised he was even able to hold on to it at all. "Just stop it, I-I can't walk away. Don't you see? I have to kill you, or he's going to kill me."

"Egar," he flinched at the name, "There are always other ways to settle this, you always have a choice-"

"N-no," he shook his head feverously, "no there isn't. I have to do this. I don't have a choice, don't you understand?"

"Very well then," King Alfor then raised his hands in surrender, not even looking shaken that he was staring death straight in the face.

Egar was taken aback by the man's calm demeanor. Maybe he didn't have to kill him; he could stay in the castle, continue his life like nothing happened, his thoughts whispered to him. He wouldn't be the first Galra in their history to turn to the side of the avians, he's heard of a few over the years of his life that have chosen the protection of Altea over the Surface, but then-

He shivered at the thought.

–but then Zarkon would just send someone else, someone stronger and better suited for the job, and he doubted that they wouldn't come without shooting him too.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, "I'm so sorry, please forgive me." He knew he was killing an innocent man, he knew that now. King Alfor was no killer, he was the killer now. His finger tightened, his stomach threatening to explode with all of the nerves he felt in that moment.

The king nodded, nothing but understanding in his eyes as he stood awaiting his execution. "I forgive you, and I hope you find what you're looking for."

With those final words, Egar squeezed his eyes shut.

And pulled the trigger.