Chapter three: "these people are sick and we are the cure."
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
I had just decollated a man's head. Various mixed emotions were coursing through my body, prompter than the beat of an eyelid. Insubordination, remorse, and confidence just to name a few.
But, the guilt was posthastedly withdrawing. There was no way I could have allowed him to lead my people. He was guranteed to terminate all of us.
His breath consisted of a strong substance, beer without a doubt. Drunks like him can't rebuild and improve communities. If anything, they were the ones to make it so much worse.
Getting on the both of his knees, he bows down to me.
"Don't do that, Audric. I may be the new ruler, but that doesn't mean that you have to act any differently." He leaps back to his giant feet, and it causes the ground to vibrate and the lifeless cranium to rotate around.
"Long live the king." He smirks at me, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.
"You don't fail to astonish me, Ryker. What do we do now?" I could tell that incredulity was playing a major factor in his brain right now. It was fundamentally written across his forehead.
"We do what my father would've done. Connect with the people. I need to make amends. Apoligize for my mistakes and move on, create new rules that will kill chaos and instead bring order and discipline to life. These people are sick and we are the cure."
"Perspicacious. And how do you suppose we do that?" Closely inspecting the noggin, he wiggles it around with his feet as if he is waiting for it to resurrect back to life.
"I have a plan. But, for now we need to get some shut eye. It's midnight, someone attempted to kill me earlier, and I'm aching and covered with wounds and bruises. I don't feel like ranting towards a whole civilization tonight. I'll see you in the morning."
"If you thought that was bad, then you're in for a wild ride. You better hold on tight and buckle up, because this only gets bumpier as your life progresses. I seen it happen with your father and it is only a matter of time until life attempts to throw some punches back at you." He stuffs his hands into his trouser pockets which made the buttons embellished on it jiggle and dance around.
The slacks he wore matched his cantaloupe-tinted dress shoes and untidy beard that fell far below his chin which was heavily indistinguishable to a buttock.
"Oh, I believe that. When my time came to rise to the throne I expected it to be the opposite of a piece of cake. However, I didn't expect to inherit it at sixteen years old." A sigh bounces out of his chops and fills the empty void that was formed right after my acknowledgement.
The walls that begged to be dusted were scrutinized by his splendid eyesight. From what I could comprehend, it looked as if he was deliberately studying each and every brick that played its part to fortify this historical building I call home, for a possible idea on what to retort with.
Unfortunately, he has no luck.
"You know, your job may be to protect me, and you exceed in that subject, but a therapist certainly isn't your strong suite. But, that's okay. I would prefer a best friend and protector, the therapist can go fuck off for all I care."
"Now that we can unquestionably concur on. Goodnight, your majesty. Don't let the cockroaches bite." A modest snicker is assembled from me, making that and the boisterous fissured tiles the only things that go bump into the night.
"They won't, trust me. If they attempt to, then I shall have to introduce my knight in shining armor." I reveal the knife that was submerged under the loads of gentle fur which smoothly enveloped my body.
He was the first to stride off, the foundation squeaking until he was no longer visible from where I stood. Then, it was my turn.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
I had been lying in bed for hours, desperately craving sleep. Tossing and turning was my greatest enemy. I would eventually find one spot on my bed that felt pleasant, and then proceed to enter dreamland. But, of course, it wasn't that easy. It was never that easy.
The birds and bugs right outside of my windows were screeching and squawking, which would continue to wake me back up as soon as I was about to drift off.
I heard a voice calling for my name resulting from the platform just outside of my room. It dangled just above hundreds of rocks and bushes which contained thousands of tiny, torturing thorns which were sure to give you an unforgettable and remarkable time if you ever did happen to tumble off.
That is, if you were still alive from the impact.
Thinking about whether or not I should check it out, I came to a closure that it was better if I continued to ignore it. Me being the way I was right now, the tiredness getting the best of me seemed like the only knowledgeable answer.
Paying no attention to it is what I did. No matter how I tried to block out the obnoxious whispers- whether it was slamming my head in the pillow and covering my ears with it, humming a catchy tune I picked up from school, or just calmly doing nothing and hoping that it would ultimately vanish off into the night- none of my methods seemed to be working.
The murmurs grow louder and louder as the night leisurely fades away into the daylight. In no time the sun begins to rise and it's vivid rays are shining through the transparent door.
We were on our way to the market place hoping to buy another curtain for this when the arrow impaled his neck.
I insisted he didn't go with me, and look at what happened. If he actually took the time to listen to his kid then maybe he wouldn't be dead. Maybe none of this would be happening.
As much as I hated to say this, he brought that on himself. He could've sent any of his guards or even Audric to watch over me and ensure that I came back home, but he didn't. That's where my father went wrong, that was his mistake.
"Ryker." The mysterious man called out to me again, once he got to the last letter of my name he let it linger in the air, as if he was a python slithering freely in the jungle without a care in the world.
I throw the blankets that were embracing me in a warmly hug to the side, as I primarily hop out of the covers. Grabbing the knife that was secured in my coat pocket which was wrapped around the metallic rack in the corner of the room, I stomp all the way to the balcony to survey the commotion.
The doors are slightly ajar, so that explains why I could hear the man constantly requesting to see me. Sliding them open, I rush out with my knife pointed in front of me to whatever may be there, and he was the last person that I would ever contemplate to be face to face with yours truly.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Word count: 1266 words.
This was a really, really quick chapter, but I do hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you for reading!
-Beau
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Adventure❝ It isn't corn that they lust for, it's my head. ❞ ■□■□■□■□■ Rubin Cromwell has perished in a tragic incident. Upon traveling to a market with his sixteen year old son, Ryker Kromwell, he was struck with an arrow. The youngster watched as his fath...
