"So she started begging for help?" Aria asked, utterly dumbfounded by my story. We sat on her bed, in the royal quarters. As soon as I had awoken the next morning, I had rushed to her room to ask for her help, help with my plan. Her room was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was covered in plants of every kind and books of even greater numbers. Orchids and roses, her favourite of these plants, covered the white, marble balcony. Gold lined almost every piece of furniture. The chandelier, which seemed to be a requirement in these rooms, was carved with birds that created flying shadows when the sun set. And, the most impressive, an amulet on display. One made of silver and a familiar purple rock. Amythrite, I thought, the biggest amount of it I have ever seen besides King Tristan's crown.
"My father said she was grieving the death of her sister, and that's why she acted up but... I don't know. Its too weird." I said as I began to pace the room. Every thought bombarding my head at once.
"And she said she didn't have a name? Just a string of numbers and letters, how... peculiar." the Princess seemed to be lost in her forest of thought and we stood there, merely thinking for a few minutes.
"The thing that confuses me the most is the ceremony. There are no weddings, holidays or festivals coming up, especially not today. And its midwinter for crying out loud! The connection to the Spirits is weakest now, most ceremonies wouldn't even work." Aria joined me in pacing around her lavish bedchamber.
"I think I know how we can figure it out. What time will there be the least nobles walking around?"
"Umm, noon. When everyone is eating."
"That'll be when this ceremony takes place. Can we check it out?" I looked at her with pleading eyes, an innocent smile upon my lips.
"No... Absolutely not."
"I'll owe you."
Aria let out a small smirk, "I'll do it but, in return, you have to flirt with bread boy- I mean, Duke Luca."
I growled under my breath but agreed, curiosity burning through my every nerve.
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"Why me, Amara?"
We hid in a storage cupboard beside the throne room, that, conveniently, had an air vent leading directly to that very room. Every wall was covered in layers of dust and cobwebs, the beige wall paint had peeled revealing the crumbling stone behind it. Along the petametre of the tiny room, lay dozens of boxes, all empty. The bells had just rung for noon, and I was getting impatient.
"Cause you are the only one I trust in this dragon-sh*t Nobility. Now shh." Aria winced a bit at my language, but it was quickly followed by a small smile. It had been an uphill battle to convince her to join me but I refused to go alone. We both stood on a wooden crate, tiptoed in order to see through the vent. My stomach began to claw for food.
"I am sure they will arrive any second, do their weird ceremony thing, then we can go get some lunch." Aria said, as if reading my mind.
"Yeah, that soun-"
I was cut off by the boom of footsteps entering the empty throne room. Sharing panicked looks, me and Aria fell into an unstable silence. We could only see the lower half of the three figures bodies because of the placement of the vent, but we could easily make out the voices.
"Bring them in." the powerful voice of the King racked my bones, and fear soaked into me. I heard a small confused mutter from Aria.
"Of course, sir." this time the voice was female and she wore the recognizable trousers of the Military uniform. Her stance was confident even in the face of King Tristan. Hung down from her belt, the insignia of the Royal Golgorian Army glistened in the chandelier's light. The most expensive looking sword ever held idlily in its sheath as the woman carried out her orders.
"That's General Kya Titania." Aria whispered. I looked at the third figure, obviously a nobleman. He was taller than the General but shorter than the King, at least from the lengths of their legs. He wore black trousers, inscribed with blue patterns and swirls. But his boots were most worthy of note. They were of the finest black leather I had ever seen, paired with a black metal buckle that was inscribed with initials I couldn't read and lined with gold.
"Whose the Nobleman?" I said.
"No clue, he hasn't spoken yet and I can't see his family crest."
The doors of the Throne Room opened again, this time an entire crowd of people, men and women around the age of thirty -five, I guessed. Their nervous but excited mutters and whispers coated the tense air. Guards flooded the room afterwards covering every window and exit, locking every escape.
"Good afternoon, my people. You have all recently turned thirty, and have served our country proudly..." The Kings speech continued for a while, while I took stock of the crowds clothing. The majority of them wore the same uniform my servant had, some wore nursing uniforms, others, basic rags more fitting to mines and hard labour. Every member of the crowd had an exhausted yet hopeful aura to them, and I could see the glowing smiles of those who were sitting down. Yet, something was off, seriously off.
"... and now it is time for you to take your place among the Spirits. Your first participant is to show you that the process of crossing over is painless and easy. Bring her in."
The doors opened again, and I saw a figure being dragged by the arms by two guards. She was kicking, screaming and pleading with the guards to be let go. Her distressed sobs echoed pathetically in the massive Throne room. With a gasp, I identified the voice; it was my servant. She was brought to the feet of the throne, where King Tristan now sat, with his two friends standing behind him. As he rose, she whimpered in terror. A final scream reverberated. The crowd crawled away in disgust. Her body fell with a bang, a paper-white dagger plunged into her head.
After that, it was carnage. The crowd ran in all directions, fighting for an escape when there was none. Some knelt down and prayed, other attempted to fight back but they were easily mowed down. Every second another fell .Blood stained the walls. Guts decorated the floor. The mountain of corpses grew higher and higher. Tears brimming at my eyes, I slammed my hand to my mouth to prevent sobs or worse, screams. The faces of the massacred innocent filled my mind and when I could look no longer, their cries for mercy filled my ears.
And finally once the screams ended, me and Aria clung to each other, trying to find comfort in each others presence. Until we heard the shrieks, the exact same shrieks that tore me apart that day in the training grounds. They were drawing on their souls. Aria knew what that meant and began to cry silently, as I looked up to see what was going on.
I saw soldiers drawing gorgeous gas from writhing, blackening bodies. I saw others converting that very gas into the sparkling liquid I knew so well. Finally, I saw the King, holding a wine glass approach one of the large marble bowls it was being collected into, and take a sip. Take a sip of another human beings life, their love, their hatred. Drink it, because you can. They are just human after all. They don't deserve to live. That's when I realised what I truly drank on the night of the soiree, what I found delectable. Sacrifice was his supplier.
My fear began to shift, transform into a monster, far more ugly, but far more powerful. It wanted to go in there and slit his throat. It wanted to sit there and watch the life slowly drain from his eyes, the fight from his heart and the power from his body. And it would enjoy it, for every second of his misery would give it years of sleep. I want to crush him, and I will.
"Aria, we have to get out of here." I whispered, my voice firm with renewed purpose. When she didn't respond, I grabbed her arm and dragged her out of there. I didn't know if the King would kill his daughter for discovering his secret, but I wasn't going to wait to find out.
We ran. Crashing past servants and maids that I couldn't help but think were doomed to the same fate. We sprinted, and we didn't dare look back. Our lungs ached and our feet blistered in our uncomfortable shoes but we didn't stop. Finally, once our bodies could run no longer, I dragged Aria back into her chambers. I collapsed onto the dusty bed, my head spinning with exhaustion and shock. Three hundred people, I estimated in my head, dead in a matter of minutes.
I was sick of waiting around. I had grown tired of merely existing where I shouldn't. That's when I made my decision, that I would feed the monster King Tristan had created and use it to shatter his glass throne. I decided to put an end to it, to everything.
A hollow blackness entered me that day, but, my Spirits, it was brilliant fuel.