Rising

Prologue

I walk with a crown on my head and fire in my blood.

The walls of the castle seem to loom up to the heavens, the tapestry-laden wood a silent witness to years of crime. Of torture. Of death. The scarlet carpet beneath my feet seems to melt into blood. Each shadow seems to conceal a bit of horror, a bit of darkness.

I don't care.

The shrieks of men drift from far beneath me and fill my ears, begging for me to free them, to save them, to put them out of their misery. The sounds flow from the dungeons, a cacophony of torture and pain. It should affect me. Why doesn't it affect me? It used to hurt me. I used to feel their pain.

I feel nothing now.

So, I ignore those doomed prisoners, their pleading words and their tormented cries. I ignore the metallic tang in the air, the stench of all the blood I've seen spilled. The death hanging in the air like smoke... It's of no use to me. It's nothing. My focus remains on one man. One monster.

I push the world away as I march into the throne room.

His eyes are wide, darting around the ornate room with silent fury. He sits on his gold and obsidian throne, bound to the glorious chair with course rope. Bruises and lacerations mar his bare chest, and a pool of dried blood stains shining wood beneath him. His crown lies in a twisted heap of metal beside him. A trickle of crimson leaks from a cut on his cheek, and I smirk.

"Father." I take a step towards him, and the world falls away. Only the two of us exist. My father and I. We're the only beings in the world.

Us and the jagged knife in my hand.

"My son." His words are ragged and weak. "Please. Have..." He coughs, and red bubbles rise from his cracked lips. "Mercy. Have mercy."

My eyes don't leave his as I press my knife onto his stomach. He flinches as the metal digs in his gut. "Like you had mercy for the people you killed?" The blade cuts into his flesh further, and an agonized growl rumbles from his throat. "Like you had mercy for me?"

"Please," he moans. His eyelids flutter. "Please."

I used to give in so easily. Never again.

I lift the knife away from his stomach. "You are a monster, father." I drag the tip of the blade up past his chest, past his shoulders. He stiffens as the metal pricks his neck. "You have killed so many people. You slaughtered people like animals." I lean in close, my words a mere breath. "You deserve nothing."

"Why?" He shivers under the kiss of the metal. "Why now?"

I tighten my grip on the handle. "Because I can't take it anymore."

Something in his face shifts, grief and horror and shame and delight rippling across his features. And then, impossibly, his lips curve up into a smile. A sadistic, deranged smile which leaves me breathless.

"Then kill me," he snarls, all traces of fear vanishing instantly. A savage light gleams in his eyes, and for a second I'm reminded of the man before. The cruel, awful, despicable man I once knew. The man that used to rule on that throne. "Kill me. Avenge everyone I've killed."

I step away, my stomach clenching. "What?" A hint doubt slithers into my mind.

"Do it." He strains at his bonds, the muscles in his arms rippling. My mouth goes dry as he arches his back. "Do it, Gaven. Kill me!"

The painted walls seem to close in like a cage of fabric and memories. A gilded prison. "What are you saying?" A blistering venom travels through my blood, but it doesn't burn with vengeance anymore.