The hidden room felt like a distant memory, but the weight of what had transpired there lingered in Nigel's mind. Every time he looked at the Sword of Kings, now strapped to his side, he could still see Elrik's lifeless body on the cold stone floor. The echoes of his final words haunted him.
The sword will destroy you, just as it destroyed them.
Nigel had hardly slept since that day. He had tried to bury Elrik quietly, in a place far from the castle, telling the guards that the old advisor had simply disappeared. The kingdom would know soon enough, but for now, he needed time to process everything.
Standing at the balcony of the castle, Nigel looked out over his kingdom. The villages seemed peaceful from this height, but he knew unrest was brewing. Rumors of rebellion had been spreading, fueled by whispers that the new king was too young, too inexperienced to lead. The death of his father had shaken the kingdom, and Nigel feared that if anyone learned the truth about Elrik, it would shatter completely.
He gripped the hilt of the sword tightly, feeling its cold, comforting presence at his side. It was the one thing that made him feel strong, like he could handle the pressures of the throne. Yet, deep down, he knew the sword was more than just a weapon. It was something far more dangerous, something that came with a cost.
Footsteps echoed behind him, and Nigel turned to see Captain Arden, the commander of his father's army, approaching. Arden was one of the few people Nigel trusted, a seasoned warrior who had been loyal to King Sifone until the very end.
Captain Arden: "Your Majesty, the council is waiting. They want to discuss the recent raids on the southern villages."
Nigel nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. "I'll be there shortly."
Arden hesitated, his sharp eyes studying Nigel carefully. "The people are restless, Your Majesty. They need to see their king leading them—strong and confident. Especially after what happened to Master Elrik."
Nigel's heart tightened. "What do you mean?"
Arden shifted uncomfortably. "There are rumors, sire. Some say Elrik vanished without a trace. Others say he was... murdered. The council is beginning to ask questions."
Nigel swallowed hard. He had known this moment would come, but he wasn't ready. How could he explain what had happened without revealing the truth about the sword?
Nigel: "Elrik was loyal to the kingdom... but he had secrets. He wasn't the man we all thought he was."
Arden's brow furrowed. "Secrets, sire? What kind of secrets?"
Nigel glanced down at the sword, its faint glow barely visible in the sunlight. He had to be careful with his words. "Elrik wanted power—power that wasn't his to take. He tried to steal something valuable from me. In the end, he left me no choice."
There was a pause as Arden processed the words. Nigel could see the doubt in his eyes, the unasked questions hanging in the air. But after a moment, Arden simply nodded. "I see. I trust your judgment, sire. But be wary. The council will want more answers. They were fond of Elrik, and his sudden disappearance won't go unnoticed."
Nigel's hands clenched at his sides. The council had always been loyal to his father, but now he feared they would see him as weak, unable to handle the pressures of ruling. And if they found out about the sword, there was no telling what they might do.
Nigel: "I'll deal with the council. But for now, we need to focus on the raids. If the people think the kingdom is falling apart, we'll have more than just rumors to worry about."
Arden nodded again, though the tension between them remained palpable. "I'll prepare the army for deployment, Your Majesty. The southern villages need protection, and I suggest you address the council sooner rather than later."
With that, Arden bowed and left the room, leaving Nigel alone once more. The weight of the crown pressed heavier on his shoulders than ever. He had always known ruling a kingdom would be difficult, but he had never imagined it would feel like this—a constant battle between his responsibilities, his secrets, and his own sense of self.
Nigel turned back to the balcony, staring out into the distance. Somewhere beyond the horizon, rebellion was stirring. And here, within the walls of his own castle, whispers of doubt and betrayal were beginning to form.
The sword hummed faintly at his side, as if sensing his turmoil. It had given him strength, but it had also taken something from him. With Elrik dead and the council watching his every move, Nigel felt more alone than ever.
---
Later that evening, Nigel sat in the council chambers, his gaze sweeping across the familiar faces seated around the large, circular table. These were the men and women who had advised his father for years, the people who had helped guide the kingdom through war, famine, and peace. But now, Nigel could see the skepticism in their eyes.
Councilor Thomar, a stern, elderly man who had served as the head of the council for decades, spoke first. "Your Majesty, we must address the situation with Master Elrik. His disappearance has caused concern among the people. We need answers."
Nigel's heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his voice steady. "Master Elrik... was a complicated man. He left the kingdom under circumstances that I cannot fully explain. But know this—he was not the man we thought he was. His disappearance is for the good of the realm."
Murmurs spread through the room, and Nigel could feel their doubt thickening. Thomar's eyes narrowed. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, Master Elrik was a trusted advisor to your father and to this council. If he truly betrayed the crown, we deserve to know how."
Nigel's grip tightened on the arms of his chair. He couldn't tell them the full truth, not without risking more chaos. "Elrik sought power for himself. He tried to take something from me, something dangerous. I had to stop him."
Another murmur rippled through the council, but Thomar's gaze remained fixed on Nigel. "And what was this 'something,' Your Majesty? What could be so dangerous that it cost a man his life?"
Nigel's hand instinctively brushed the hilt of the sword at his side, hidden beneath his cloak. The weight of the lie pressed down on him, but he couldn't afford to let the truth slip—not now. Not with the kingdom hanging in the balance.
Nigel: "That... is a matter between my father and me. Elrik's fate is sealed, and the kingdom will move forward. We must focus on protecting our people, not chasing the ghosts of the past."
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Thomar slowly nodded. "Very well, Your Majesty. But know this—we will be watching. The kingdom cannot afford more secrets."
Nigel met Thomar's gaze, refusing to blink. "I understand. And I will do what is necessary to protect the kingdom."
---
As the meeting concluded and the council members began to disperse, Nigel stood, the weight of the sword feeling heavier than ever at his side. He had won the battle for now, but the war for his kingdom had only just begun. The council's suspicions would not disappear, and soon, the truth about Elrik and the sword would come to light.
Nigel knew that the road ahead would be filled with more difficult choices, more sacrifices. But for now, he was king. And he would wield the sword, whatever the cost.
---