Zander knew that him leaving his ceremony would have consequences - but actually he cared less. It wasn't yet day break and he was already informed that the king required his presence.
Intentionally he wasted some amount of time before he and his right hand headed to the throne room. The guards at the entrance of the door pulled the door open for the great impaler and he walked in, while Ian stood behind and the guards closed the door.
As Zander walking towards the king who sat in his throne-like chair, his well polished boots made quite the sound.
"You are late" Thorne's voice sounded loud in the throne room, his eyes still fixed on the open book on top of the polished desk.
Zander paused just in front of him, "My apologies, your majesty" he said before he sat on a chair, opposite to the king's.
Thorne finally looked up at his bastard son, "I assume you know why I called you here, Zander" Thorne said as he closed the book in front of him.
The great impaler sighed, "Of course I do" he answered plainly.
"Good. Then we can get straight to business" Thorne said, "You were absent at your ceremony. I'd like to know why?" Thorne asked his face straight like an arrow, but his face didn't as much as scare the great impaler, as a matter of fact he hates where this conversation was heading to.
"I needed fresh air, so I took a walk" Zander answered.
"You took a walk" Throne repeated between gritted teeth, Zander knew that he was striking his nerves.
"Absolutely" Zander said with a fake smile.
"Do I look like a joke to you?" Thorne asked with a quiet voice. "Do you plan to mock your king?" he asked again, "how dare you besmirch the Leviathan name"
"I don't know how I besmirched the Leviathan name. Was it because I was absent at one ridiculous ceremony" Zander stated.
"Ridiculous? Notable dieties were present at that ridiculous ceremony!" the king thundered.
"Should I leap for joy then, because of so-called dieties. Their presence means nothing to me"
"Where are your manners, boy?" Thorne asked harshly.
"Clearly I have lost them, in the cold battlefield, isn't that obvious" Zander said nonchalantly.
Thorne paused for a while before he said, "You were being celebrated -"
"By those that plan to kill me, if they ever get the chance. Pardon me your majesty but I'll rather stay uncelebrated." Zander added cutting the king's words.
"You've grown arrogant beyond words" Thorne told him.
"I'm flattered" the great impaler remarked as he settled into the chair.
"I'll let this ... crude act of yours slide. Next time I might not be so generous" Thorne warned, his face stiff like a brick wall.
'They would certainly be a next time, so... ' Zander thought inwardly, and besides the king's generosity means absolutely nothing to him.
He sighed with exhaustion. "If we are done here, can I leave leave?" Zander asked politely at least.
"Get out of my sight" Thorne said with with irritation.
Zander stood and bowed curtly. "Have a good day, your majesty" he said before he walked out.
EIGHT YEARS AGO.
"You will do exactly as I tell you, because I am your King!" Thorne's voice thundered.
Eighteen year old Zander stopped on his tracks, and turned around to face his father. "You are ordering me and my men to excute innocent lives. Those people did nothing wrong" he said.
"You dare defy my orders" Thorne said with a loud voice that resonated inside the chamber.
"Yes," Zander answered boldly as he took a step forward. The king's eyes widened, he didn't expect that answer from his bastard son. It took a while for him to recollect what he just heard.
"You might be the great impaler, but you answer to me" the king stated with a cold stare.
"You should have thought of that when you sent me to the battlefield." Zander replied.
The king took a step closer, "I made you who you are"
"No." Zander answered barely in a whisper, "You made me a bloody killer. But I'll never succumb to the killing of innocent lives" Zander stated lastly before he turned and started to walk away.
"Do not walk away from me!" The king loudened. But the great impaler kept walking.
"I command you to stop!" but yet Zander moved on almost approaching the door.
Anger arose inside of the king. He was filled with fury - how dare his bastard son defy his orders, he is the King and no one dares disobey him.
His temper turned malignant immediately as his eyes glowed lustrously. Little sparks of lightening bolts flew around his fist that was clenched tightly. The lightening blots settled in his fist, then with a swift hand movement the lightening formed around his hand and without delay he throw the lightening at Zander.
But he was greatly shocked by what he saw - the great impaler caught his lightening bolt immediately with his bare hands. Impossible! The king wanted him to feel a great amount of pain, excruciating pain that will melt his skin. But now he was holding that same lightening bolt in his hand - lightening hot enough to melt the sand. But the worse part was that he didn't look like he was in pain, his features were relaxed and calm.
Seconds later he discharged the lightening, and as a result smoke conveyed around his hand.
"You have absolutely nothing to prove, your majesty" Zander stated lastly before he left the chamber, leaving Thorne dumbstruck by what he just did.
PRESENT TIME.
Throne gulped down his ale, as he reminisced the memory of that day. He remembered it vividly - how can he forget? That day he learnt that his bastard son has grown powerful and independent, and there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it.
Throne grimaced at the bitter taste of the ale, he placed down his chalice and walked to the open window. He knew that he had no other person to blame but himself - he had sent Zander to the city of bones at the age of twelve.
The city of bones is a realm of punishment for rebellious gods, rascals, infidels, and rogues where they are brutally trained to be fighters - warriors. Throne has sent his his bastard son there not because he was rebellious in any way, nay - Zander was a good and kind lad growing up he was infact the perfect child. But it was obvious that the king had kept his bastard son for the sole purpose of fighting and winning his battles.
Zander had first experience the horrors of the battlefield at the age of fifteen - Throne should have known that the foul smelling blood and the gore stained warfield with thousand of dead bodies, would change his bastard son into the courageous, fearless and valor filled war god that he is today.