Heir of Nothing

Two

The crowds were thick immediately out of the door. Zara had always found her parents to be overprotective. She just wanted some freedom. Now, as she bumped shoulders with some of her enemies she realized that is exactly what they had given her. The freedom to do reckless things.

Reckless things like heading to a meeting point without knowing where she was starting from. Bastian had told her they were in the city, the middle of the city were exact words, but Bastian had a way of using shortcuts in his words. They were no help at all. When Zara turned back to him he inclined his head the direction the crowd seemed to be moving. Zara has figured as much but the verification was nice.

Now when she was pushed forward by those around her she allowed her feet to lift from the ground. As much as crowds made her anxious this one provided warmth that her quick departure had prevented her from securing. And protection, on the off chance she was recognized there, were thousands of faces to disappear behind.

The chatter of the crowds bounced off the walls of shops lining the street. When Zara had walked these areas before the windows were open and merchants had stands set up around. Today they were all boarded, no signs of commerce in the area. It wasn't often the king left the castle. No one wanted to miss it.

The movement of the crowd slowed as they packed against each other. This was no good, from where they were standing Zara could see nothing. It was not like she was overly short, she was actually an average height. But being average only gave her a view of all the other averaged height heads.

She began pushing through the crowd. Her progress was slow, no one was willing to give up their place in history. It only slowed down more as her wrist was grabbed. She spun, ready to swing only to find Bastian attached to the other end.

"What?" She scowled, with all the noise surrounding them it was a miracle he heard her.

She tensed, ready for whatever lecture he was about to provide about her safety. But it never came, "Wait up." They made their way in the sea of people together. Zara wondered how many shoulders she brushed with people who had been rooting for their demise. They would all pay for it someday. But today was not the day.

As they got further in the crowd a makeshift stage came into view. Had Zara not seen the city before she may believe it was a permanent fixture. The way it was covered in a rich black fabric and decorated thrones and jeweled adorning it. This was where the king would be.
Whatever he was going to say, he had spared no expense in making certain it was a spectacle. Zara swallowed hard. It was time.

The king entered too much fanfare. Banners waved and the audience cheered. There was even a poor guard beating a drum. His entourage received a similar welcome. It was mainly comprised of old men and women. Nobles, the same nobles that had no doubt petitioned for the servitude of non-wielders. Zara hated them and their fancy clothes.

At the end of the line came a couple who looked out of place among the wrinkled faces before them. They were young, possibly her own age. Their attire was no less extravagant than the nobles before them, if not a bit more so.

The girl had blonde hair pulled pristinely back around her face. Her eyes pierced the crowd. She was beautiful and terrifying. Her hand was firmly gripping the elbow of the boy she walked with. For a moment Zara was so entranced by his face that she did not notice the crown on his head.

Apollo Macalester. The crown prince of Riava. Second on Zara's hit list, seated directly behind is describable father.

His emotionless eyes and straight mouth detracted from his otherwise handsome face. Seeing the king and prince-like this made parts of it click together Zara. She had always wondered how someone could be so evil, looking at them now she wasn't sure there was anything but that.

Her eyes wandered back to the king as the prince and his companion settled in a place in the line of nobles flanking the king. Until she could ask Bastian of their names, Zara remembered their faces as they filled up her list.

"Today," the King's voice silenced the crowd, a somewhat impressive feat considering the masses gathered, "we celebrate a victory. The insolent force of the untouched has been defeated." A cheer erupted through the crowd. Living in the city instead of the palace meant most of them were likely the very thing the king was seeking to destroy. If they hadn't been cowards and had joined the forces, maybe they would have won. But it was too late for that now.

The king calmed the crowd with a simple hand, "To commence this glorious occasion there will be a celebration. Grander than any ever witnessed by Riava." Zara felt uneasy, a spectacle would certainly make her plans more difficult. "In the coming days, every ranking family throughout Riava will arrive at the capital and partake in a month-long celebration." A month? Had the king really been so threatened by them? "And from this day forward, the Battle of the Capital will be remembered as the day we crushed the rebellion once and for all."

Zara felt nauseous at the roar of applause this received. At the same time, a spark of hope lit within her. Maybe a spectacle was exactly what she needed.

"This a boisterous claim. Though I trust you take my word as your king, for any naysayers here today, let you be witness of Riava's power." The king flicked his hand. At the gesture, a group of guards marched to the stage.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, spreading as spectators got a better view.  When Zara finally caught sight of what was causing such a commotion her stomach flipped. The noise around her faded out and she thought she felt a hand grab her own, but she couldn't be sure of anything at that moment.

On the stage in front of her were her parent's heads. They sat on spikes instead of their bodies and their eyes remained open and lifeless. Some bastard had used magic to preserve their lifeless heads for the pure purpose of parading they like trophies. Had Zara eaten before they left she would be sick.

Her senses rushed back in as a few hesitant crowd members began clapping. The prince stepped forward, detached from the girl. He opened his arms to the crowd. With a dramatic flourish, he produced a flame in his palm. With two more simple flicks, he set fire to her parents.

That's when the tears started coming. The hand on her own became heavy now. It was Bastian. He pulled her away but all she could do was stare as her parent's faces became something she did not recognize.

She was going to get into that celebration.

And when she did, Zara was going to kill them all.

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Or will she? Mwahahaha. I know the answer of course. 

Keep reading to find out.