The grand throne room of the king's palace, dimly lit by the flickering light of torches, fell eerily silent. The air was thick with tension, and the remnants of a brutal battle were evident. Sentinel bodies lay scattered across the marble floors, their weapons discarded. At the heart of it all sat Vorthax, his imposing figure resting casually on the throne, the aura of dominance radiating from his very being.
In a blur of motion, so swift it was almost imperceptible, Vorthax vanished from the throne. The faint sound of displaced air was the only indication of his movement before he reappeared, standing tall in front of Rebekah. Her hands were tightly bound in enchanted chains, glowing faintly, and her mouth sealed by a strip of magic that shimmered with golden light. Despite her restraints, her eyes burned with defiance, meeting Vorthax's gaze unflinchingly.
Vorthax's blade, sleek and wickedly sharp, emerged in his hand as if it were an extension of himself. The blade caught the light, reflecting a cold glint that matched the malice in his eyes. He raised it slightly, the edge mere inches from Rebekah's neck. He didn't strike—not yet. Instead, he turned his attention to King Aegon, who sat slumped on his throne, his face a mixture of confusion and fury.
Vorthax's voice, sharp and laced with venom, echoed throughout the room.
"An eye for an eye, Aegon," he began, his tone calm yet seething with restrained anger. "Do you remember those words? For every action, there's a reaction. And for every reaction, there's an action."
He paused, his piercing eyes narrowing as he gestured toward Rebekah with his blade. "Do you feel it, Aegon? The fear? The helplessness? Do you see the hurt in her eyes? That's the same hurt countless others have felt because of your so-called 'order.' And I… I am the reaction to the chaos you have sown."
King Aegon, bound by the chains of his own confusion, managed to stammer, "Vorthax… why this path? Why have you turned to this… madness?"
Vorthax let out a hollow laugh, bitter and sharp. He stepped closer to the king, dragging the tip of his blade across the marble floor, the sound grating and deliberate. "Madness? No, Aegon. What's mad is a king who believes he can rule over the powerful while holding no power himself. You are a weak man sitting on a crumbling throne, a mere figurehead propped up by lies and false promises."
The king's voice grew firmer, though still trembling with uncertainty. "You speak of power, Vorthax, but power without purpose is destruction. Why have you done this?"
Vorthax's expression darkened, and his voice dropped to a menacing growl. "Why?" He turned his back to the king, pacing as though collecting his thoughts. "Do you not recall, Aegon? Or perhaps you have conveniently forgotten the blood on your hands. My sister… my innocent sister, crucified under your law."
King Aegon's eyes widened in horror. "Your sister…?"
"Yes!" Vorthax spun back around, his voice rising with fury. "What was her crime? Standing up for the poor? Defending the men and women of the Free World who were cast aside, forced to live off the scraps of the wealthy? And what did you do? You had her eliminated. You condemned her for her compassion, for daring to challenge the unjust order you so proudly maintain."
Vorthax's laughter filled the room, cold and devoid of joy. "And what was her sentence? Crucifixion. A public display of your so-called justice. She hung there for hours, suffering, as the people she tried to protect watched helplessly. Do you know how it feels, Aegon? To watch someone you love die so slowly, so painfully?"
He paused, his lips curling into a twisted smile as he lowered his gaze to Rebekah. "But no matter. An eye for an eye, right? A daughter for a sister seems fair."
Rebekah's eyes widened, panic flashing across her face for the first time as Vorthax's blade shot forward. The chains rattled as she struggled to move, but it was futile.
"No!" Aegon's voice rang out, raw with desperation, as he lunged forward. But it was too late.
In a motion as swift as lightning, Vorthax plunged his blade straight into Rebekah's chest. The impact was precise and devastating, the sound of metal piercing flesh echoing through the throne room. Blood blossomed from the wound, staining her dress and dripping onto the cold, unforgiving floor.
Rebekah's eyes locked onto her father's, her expression a mixture of pain and sorrow. Her body sagged against the chains as the life began to drain from her. Vorthax withdrew his blade slowly, his movements deliberate, savoring the moment.
King Aegon fell to his knees, his face twisted in anguish. "You…she had nothing to do with that…., you monster…" he whispered, tears streaming down his face.
Vorthax turned to him, his voice calm once more, as though the act he had just committed meant nothing.
"Monster? Perhaps. But monsters are the children of men like you, Aegon. This is your doing, not mine."
He flicked the blood from his blade with a practiced motion before stepping back, his figure casting a long shadow across the broken king. Without another word, he turned and began to walk away, his footsteps echoing in the now-silent throne room.