1450, Grouver, The Kingdom of Rimore
The moon shone brightly that night, casting an eerie glow over the magnificent castle. There was no sound from a living soul as if everyone who lived in the palace was under a spell. The noise source was only the wind that was howling and the rain that was pounding on the glass windows. It was like the storm was trying to invade the castle.
The man with a pair of red eyes and long jet-black hair sauntered into his bed chamber. He could smell the faintest hint of blood in the air mixing with the sweetest aroma he had missed for two months when he was on the battlefield.
He opened the door to his bedchamber, and instantly the smell struck his senses like a tornado. It was a mixture of blood and fear. He took a step forward to the four-poster bed, looking around warily as he went.
The light from a few candles was dimmed as it almost ran out. But, despite that, he could still see everything clearly. That was the perk of being a night creature; unlike humans, they had the power to do everything as they pleased.
The closer he got to the bed, the stronger the smell became. The aroma was too familiar for him, sending a jolt of panic and terror to his body. It was enough to make his heart race like a mad horse. He tried to calm himself, but it was hard to do when she felt like someone had squeezed his heart tightly.
"Nevea?" He called with hope layered in his tone, but there was no answer. He tried again, but still, his calling was met with the void of night. "Nevea, love, answer me?"
He moved to the bed in a split second, then there he saw her lifeless body that looked like a feather. She seemed so gentle and peaceful, like she was only sleeping. But he knew that she was no more. The knife in her chest and the blood that started to dry was a sign that she was gone.
"Open your eyes please…." He pleaded hopelessly, "Let me see your eyes."
His beautiful human had left him. They should have had a life together for a long time after he turned her into a vampire after the battle, but now her soul had gone first to the afterlife.
The aching pain crawled into his body, slicing it bit by bit, cracking his bone, and crushing the very heart Nevea had warmed. He fell to his knees and reached to hold her hands.
Her hands were smaller compared to his. It was cold, just as cold as his heart right now. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that she was still breathing and only snoozing peacefully while waiting for him. He could hear her laughing at him, and her eyes would curl like a crescent moon. It was a beautiful sight to see, but now those pictures were ruined.
He had expected to come home in her embrace, basking in pure happiness and lost in the primal need for passion. But what now? Anguish and rage filled his entire being, pushing him to ruin everything, including the kingdom he had tried so hard to protect.
He knew who the mastermind behind the death of his wife was. Those people who claimed to be the highest noble were disgusted that he chose a frail human as his only wife and their future queen. They did nothing while he was in the palace but dared to sneak behind his back.
He would kill them all without mercy. The king then stood up and bent his body to kiss the crown of her head. He took his time, savoring the sensation of his lips against her cold lips, and inhaled the smell of her body. Although it had been days since she died, no rotten smell emitted from her. Instead, her body fragrance only grew sweeter.
"Don't worry, love. I'll look for someone to bring you back. Believe me. I will do anything to keep you alive."
After that, he left his bedchamber. He looked straight as he knew the place he wanted to visit the most. He did not ask for the butler and guard of the palace, as they would have their time to die. But first, he should eradicate the root of the problem.
***
The night grew deeper, and the heavy wind hosted hard against the tree, making the leaf drop into the soil.
In a big and magnificent manor, four people who used to drink happily now shrink in the corner of the room, trembling in fear, unsure of what would happen next. They had heard the news that the king had returned safely from the battlefield. Which only means their plan to kill the king had tanked.
The galloping sound of a horse could be heard from the outside, dread started to fill their hearts, and they cast each other a glance as if asking what they should do to ensure their safety. However, none of them had the answer. If the king wanted them dead, then there was no way for them to escape his rage.
"Lord Arden, you should do something! You are the reason we rebelled against the king." A man in his fifty with a big mole near his mouth exclaimed. Terror had successfully taken his mind.
"I only make the rough plan, Lord Cecil. The rest of you are the ones who executed everything." Lord Arden's voice was high. It was evident in his voice that he did not like the way Lord Cecil talked to him.
"We should run." Lord Boleyn said, his body tremoring tremendously.
"Yeah, we should. It's better than waiting for death to come and knock on the door." Lord Courtney chimed in. He got off his feet and helped the other to stand up.
Before they could flee, the entrance of Lord Arden's manor was kicked with a strong force until it broke entirely and fell to the ground. The king's silhouette entered the lords' field of vision, and they took a step backward.
"Your…. your majesty…." Lord Cecil muttered in fear. He could not shake the feeling that his end was near and imagined the angel of death waving in front of him.
The king stormed fast like lightning thunder; without saying anything, he held Lord Cecil's and Boleyn's wrinkled necks. His red eyes shone so brightly; it glisters with malice.
"How dare you play behind my back!" His hold on their neck tightened, blocking the source of their breath pathway. At the same time, his red orbs moved to see Lord Arden and Lord Courtney. It seemed the two old men wanted to hurt him.
"Kneel!" The king ordered, and the two lords obeyed instantly.
They dropped to their knees, feeling the pain spreading in their veins. They never knew the king had that kind of power. They believed the king possessed the same ability as the rest of the vampires, but only a bit stronger. But who would have thought the king could hurt them without even laying his hands, using only his words?
Lord Arden's eyes were enlarged. He, too, was shocked to the core. Had he known the king's true power, he would not dare to challenge him and kill his wife.
The king snapped lord Cecil and Boleyn without thinking and shifted his full attention to Lord Arden.
"Burst." He said to Lord Courtney.
In no time, Lord Courtney's body burst like a balloon. His flesh and blood scattered everywhere, on the floor, Lord Arden's body, and the king's.
"I see that your greed has overtaken your brain, Lord Arden." The king said calmly, but his eyes bore into Lord Arden's body like he wanted to slice the old man's body.
Knowing he had no power to fight the king, Lord Arden bowed, and his head touched the floor. His body shivered in trepidation.
The king eyed the old man. Disgust was shown on his face. Then he lifted his foot and placed it on Lord Arden's head. He put pressure on it, making Lord Arden wince in agony.
"Tell me, Arden. Why did you do that?"
Lord Arden remained silent as he knew that no matter what he said, he would still end up dying.
"Answer me!" The King's voice roared on the manor like an angry beast. He used the sword on his belt to stab the man in his back, making the old man grimaced.
"I was trying to save your reputation, Your Majesty."
"My reputation? Hahahaha," The King laughed so hard, as though he had lost his sanity. "I don't have any, Arden!"
"It was because you married the lowlife human like Nevea, Your Majesty. If you had married my daughter—"
The King put more pressure on Lord Arden's head, stopping the old man from speaking nonsense. "I see you are still bitter that I throw your daughter from the palace." He said coldly, "Now that I think about it, your manor is too empty. I cannot hear the annoying voice from your daughter or your wife." The King sharpened his hearing sense, and it was true there was no one in Lord Arden's manor beside them. "Trying to play smart, aren't you?" He chuckled at him.
"No, Your Majesty." Lord Arden's body was shaking even more at the mention of his family. He had tried to send his family away when he heard the King had come back. "I did not lie. If your wife had tried to keep her pregnancy, then—"
The mention of pregnancy caught the King off guard. His step faltered, and his eyes darted across the room in confusion. An abundance of agony he had pushed at the back of his mind struck him in a flash of a second.
Nevea was pregnant with his child. He could have realized her dream of having a little family. He could have another reason to breathe.
"You killed her when she bore the child of the king?" He screamed. "How dare you, Arden. HOW DARE YOU?!"
He was so angry that he could barely see straight. All he wanted to do was kill everyone in the whole world, and he would start with Lord Arden. The King could feel the anger coursing through his veins, which honestly felt great.
The King walked toward Lord Arden and stabbed him multiple times in different places that would hurt him the most. The sound of Lord Arden's cry was like a beautiful song in The King's ear; it fueled his desire to ruin him more until Lord Arden wished he could have died.
"You can kill me, Your Majesty. But please don't touch my family. They are innocent. Please Grant your subject's wish, Your Majesty." The pain in Lord Arden's body was unbearable. It started to drive him insane.
"The moment you touched my wife, you were not my subject anymore, Arden."
The tears stormed down Lord Arden's cheeks, and he sighed, then he used his last card on his sleeve. He raised his head with difficulty, "Will you kill me if I told you there is someone who could bring her back?"
The King's brows elevated in question, looking at Lord Arden's poor condition. "Tell me first, then I will think about how to end your life." He demanded.
Lord Arden knew that bargaining with The King was impossible, so he could only gamble. "I heard there is someone called Liezel. She is a soul catcher."
The King had known the existence of the soul catcher for so long, but he had thought humans with that kind of power were already extinct since they were haunted by vampires who were afraid the other creature had more power than them.
"Where is she?"
"Stormsire, Your Majesty." What Lord Arden said was all true. He was on the verge of dying, so protecting his family was his only main objection. If the information he had could ensure his family's safety, then he would tell The King everything.
The King smiled, feeling a little hope fill his chest, helping him to breathe easier.
"Thank you, Lord Arden." And he left.
Lord Arden was rendered speechless when The King just left him alone. A strong surge of happiness flowed in his body, thinking that The King had pardoned him. Little did he know that The King was still standing in front of the manor, watching the wildfire spread like a plague.
"Don't move even an inch, Lord Arden. Burst along with the fire." Then The King left the manor with his horse.
***
The King watched as the castle was consumed fully by the fire, destroying everything in its path. The aroma of burning flesh and the sound of the castle's weaker pillar collapsing elevated his feeling. He did not feel remorse for the people who lost their homes and livelihoods. All he cared about was his wife.
Those people let his wife die alone so that he would do the same. The difference was that he killed everyone without caring whether they were innocent souls or not. He was simply egoistic.
From the beginning, he was a cruel king who ruled with an iron fist. He didn't care about his people at all. He was a heatless king who did not give a second glance to anyone. Yet it changed when Nevea entered his life.
His subject should have rejoiced that he had shown them a little kindness over the time Nevea was with him, but they were being ungrateful to their benefactor. So, as the cruel King, he would carry the punishment like he always did in the past.
If Nevea were here, she would say something like, "You should not do that, Zach. They are working for you. The least you could do is lift their worries over their neck and ensure their King is doing his best to protect them."
Nevea was always the voice of reason in their relationship. She was the one who always told him to think things through before acting on them. She always told him to be careful and mindful of his subject. And she would also tell him that he was better than what he believed and that he was capable of kindness and compassion.
She did not know that she was totally wrong. He was anything but that. All he had shown her was a façade. The kindness he gave to everyone except herself was all fake. He did that solely for her, to give her peace of mind. He even went to war to ensure that The Kingdom of Rimore would be the safest heaven for her. It was not for all his subjects. They were merely a bug in his eyes, a decoration to paint his kingdom lively.
But Nevea was not here. She was gone. And he was alone. So, he did what he thought would ease the excruciating pain in his heart.
Burn everyone in the castle to the flames, be it humans or his fellow vampires.
"Forgive me, My love." Zach lowered his head and whispered beside his wife's ear. He had taken Nevea's body with him before the fire started. He planned to visit the soul catcher in Stormsire. Nothing was sure. His probability of failing was higher than succeeding, but it was worth trying. When she woke up, he would beg for forgiveness from her.
After that, Zach pulled the horse's reins and led it in the opposite direction. He left without looking back, leaving the palace that had been his home for his entire life burned. It did not matter, though, as he would build it again with Nevea in the future.
And like that, Zach, with the lifeless body of Nevea, started their journey, leaving the ground of Grouver city to find the soul catcher.