Morning came, as it always did, though it felt too soon. Somehow—perhaps out of habit or sheer determination—Hei Hei and I had survived another night. The dawn crept over the kingdom, the sun rising steadily into the sky, casting a soft golden glow over the land. The marketplace was slowly coming to life, the sounds of merchants setting up their stalls blending with the early murmur of voices. The familiar noises of bartering and the occasional argument began to rise with the morning light.
I was already awake, not because the sun had roused me, but because sleep had eluded me entirely. The restless thoughts of how we were going to get into the palace had kept me tossing and turning throughout the night. The plan—or lack of one—gnawed at me, leaving me with an uneasy weight in my chest. Today, we had to make progress. The palace loomed over my thoughts, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake it.
My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in far too long. I needed food, but more importantly, I needed to think—to find some way forward. Hei Hei and I rode through the winding streets and narrow alleys of the kingdom, making our way toward the market. The sun was fully up now, casting a warm, bright light across the kingdom's stone streets, and the marketplace was bustling with the clamor of people, livestock, and merchants hawking their wares.
Today felt different. I didn't want to steal—I wasn't in the mood to be chased through alleys or to sneak away with a stolen loaf of bread. I wanted to do things the right way, even if just for today. Maybe it was a sign that I was maturing, or maybe it was simply exhaustion from always being on the run. Either way, I made a decision. I would earn my food today.
As we passed through the streets, the familiar energy of the market washed over me. The smell of roasted meats and freshly baked bread filled the air, tempting me at every turn. My stomach growled again, but I pressed on. Just then, I spotted a group of men gathered around a table in a corner alley—gamblers. I smirked. Perfect.
If there was one thing I knew how to do well, it was winning at cards. I'd learned early on how to read faces, spot tells, and bluff my way to victory. The idea of making some quick coin without having to resort to theft felt good—like I was playing within the rules, at least for now. I joined the game, letting the familiar thrill of gambling wash away the anxiety that had kept me awake all night. In no time, I had earned enough coin for a decent meal.
With my winnings jingling in my pocket, Hei Hei and I headed straight for a nearby tavern. The smell of roasted meat hit me as soon as I walked in, and my mouth watered. I approached the merchant behind the counter, my hunger nearly making me impatient.
"I'll take some of that roasted meat and bread," I said, pulling out my coins.
The merchant, a stocky man with a gruff look, nodded and handed me a hearty portion in exchange for the coins I placed in his hand. I could feel Hei Hei's eyes on me, silently approving my decision to pay for the meal rather than steal it. I found a small table near the window, the sunlight streaming through the panes, and sat down to eat. Of course I got some for Hei Hei.
As I tore into the bread and meat, the weight of the palace still hung over me like a cloud. We didn't have a plan, and while this meal was a small victory, the real challenge was looming just ahead. I ate slowly, my mind working through different scenarios of how we might slip past the palace guards, how we might survive once inside. Every possibility felt risky—every thought, a gamble.
Hei Hei stood nearby, her steady presence as comforting as always. As I chewed, I realized that while I had no answers yet, today felt like the start of something. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't stolen for once, or maybe it was the fleeting sense of control I felt after winning the coins. Whatever it was, I knew this—today, we would move forward. One way or another, the palace was waiting.
Just then, the noise of a distant march, filled with energy and a sense of foreboding, caught my attention. I lifted my head, my pulse quickening as I spotted the palace armies approaching from afar. They were marching in unison, all dressed in black, their armor gleaming under the sun. The sight sent a shiver through the crowd, and I immediately sensed something was terribly wrong. The entire marketplace had gone still, every pair of eyes drawn toward the soldiers, as if everyone was collectively holding their breath.
I stood up from my seat to get a better view. They moved as one, their steps synchronized, their faces set in grim determination. There was no mistaking it—this was no ordinary procession. Something dreadful had either happened or was about to unfold. My stomach twisted with unease.
A cold chill ran down my spine as fear crept in. What in heaven's name was going on? I glanced toward the bread merchant, hoping for an explanation, but the look on his face mirrored my own confusion. He seemed just as lost, just as frightened. It was clear to everyone that this was no trivial matter. Something terrible had occurred.
The soldiers, now numbering in the dozens, marched to the center of the market—the place where public announcements were often made, ensuring that the news reached as many citizens as possible. The crowd parted instinctively, creating a wide space for the procession. I watched as one of the soldiers, taller and broader than the rest, stepped forward. His black armor was more ornate, and his presence commanded attention. The general, I guessed.
He raised his hand, signaling for silence, though the marketplace had already fallen into a deathly hush. Every person held their breath, waiting. Then, in a booming voice that carried over the heads of the stunned crowd, he delivered the news that no one could have anticipated.
"King Renfell is dead."
The words struck like lightning. The entire market seemed to freeze in place, disbelief etched on every face. Murmurs of shock rippled through the crowd, though no one dared speak too loudly. It was unthinkable. There had been no word of illness, no warning signs. And now, the great King Renfell—beloved by many—was gone, just like that.
The general's announcement was brief and cold, as if he were trying to contain his own emotions. He offered no further explanation. The soldiers turned, marching out of the market as swiftly as they had arrived, leaving the kingdom's people to absorb the weight of the news on their own. The air hung heavy with confusion and fear.
The marketplace, which had moments ago been filled with the hum of daily life, was now a scene of hushed chaos. People whispered urgently to one another, their faces pale with fear. How could this have happened? The question was on everyone's lips, though none dared ask it aloud. Some speculated it might have been the creeping darkness—the strange and malevolent force that had been slowly spreading across the kingdom. Others shook their heads in disbelief, unwilling to accept that even the mighty palace was vulnerable.
I stood there, frozen in place, my mind racing. If the king was not safe… who was? The fear in the marketplace was palpable, as if a dark cloud had descended over us all. If the palace couldn't protect its king, then what hope did the rest of us have? The whispers grew louder, though still no more than a murmur.
The kingdom, already gripped by fear, now seemed to teeter on the edge of panic. The death of King Renfell wasn't just the loss of a ruler—it felt like the end of safety itself. The market, which had once been a place of community and life, now felt haunted by the shadow of something far darker.
And I, too, was left with a single chilling thought: The darkness was here, and it was taking over.