The Sacrifice of The Blood King: A Taekook Story

Chapter One: The Sacrifice

Hello everyone and welcome to another story! I know I need to finish all my other ones too, but this idea has literally been eating away at me for a month now. I have to share it! I hope you enjoy!

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What once was a sparkling jewel city in the Desert Kingdom is now a wasteland. White marble walls that would glimmer in the piercing desert sun now are crumbled masses of rubble ripped apart by soldiers and battering rams. The thick, hot, desert air is consumed in the stench of blood, death, and decay; it is filled with the sounds of metal clashing on metal, screams, tearing flesh, punctured muscles, and the gurgles of the dying. This is war—a very one-sided war that is destroying the jeweled palace in the desert's capital.

Locked in the towered temple is the Mad King and his three sons; all are overlooking the walled palace's now fiery battlefield. The king sits with his wrinkled and scarred hands clenched tightly in fists. To his right sits Prince Taehyung, the youngest of the princes and the most sheltered. He too stares out at the carnage as shock and horror runs through every cell in his body. More and more men are run through by blades coated in blood. All in the name of The Mad King.

"Your Majesty!" a lieutenant bursts through the door, skin pale, and face smeared in blood, "They've breached—"

"I know," The Mad King snarls, interrupting the armor-clad soldier, "Keep fighting," his growled command rips Taehyung's attention from the window.

"Father, we are losing. Everyone is dying! You should surrender so they don't kill—"

"Shut up, you lamb, and know your place!" The Mad King snaps, dark eyes filled with rage and a sick blood lust, "There is no pride in surrender,"

"Nor in owning a desert, mutilated, wasteland!" Taehyung shouts back, ignoring his brother's warning gaze and the pain in the name his father called him. All his life, Taehyung was raised as a sacrifice. He is the third son...he's expendable. They kept him locked in the temple, pure and chaste, in case he was needed as tribute to the gods. He was bathed in special salts and oils, clothed in pure white linen, and never allowed out in the harsh rays of the desert sun. But he cannot remain that way. This has to end.

"Death by your hand or theirs does not matter to me. I will stop this massacre," Taehyung hisses, running out of the tower before the guards could lock him up once again.

"Stop him!" the eldest prince shouts, but it is too late. A boy clothed in cotton can move much faster than a tired warrior in hide armor and broadsword. Taehyung follows his heart as his bare feet pound along the cold marble tile. He has to stop this war. He runs through the palace until he is finally outside. The warm desert air wraps around him like an embrace for the very first time. It startles him. The heat is so much stronger here, the sounds louder, and the signs of death unavoidable. Blood soaks the sandy paths beneath Taehyung's feet, the burning sand scalding and blistering his fragile skin. He hisses in pain, shifting slightly as he tries not to be overwhelmed by it all. This is his first time out of the temple, and he steps foot into a blood bath. All shock and hesitation ends when he sees a nearby Desert Warrior faltering in his battle against another warrior clad in black, his thin blade glazed in crimson blood as he furiously attacks.

"No! Stop!" Taehyung cries out, his body moving instinctively as he runs over and puts himself between the two men. His shout startles the warrior, forcing him to halt his killing blow. Taehyung can smell the metallic blood clinging to this man, he can see it coating skin and black hide armor as if it were decorative embroidery and not evidence of someone's lost life. Cold black eyes glare at Taehyung from behind a face mask.

"Get out of my way," the warrior growls, his voice deeper and harsher than anything Taehyung has ever heard. It sends shivers down his spine and frightened tremors in his limbs, yet he will not give up now. He must stand his ground. Taehyung is relieved to hear other skirmishes have stopped, all warriors around them pausing the massacre out of curiosity or wary concern. No one has laid eyes on The Lamb of the Desert. They've only heard rumors of the boy with ebony hair and skin like caramel. The boy whose golden eyes can see into your very soul and whose body has been blessed by the gods.