SoR: Prologue
WORK IN PROGRESS, EDITS STILL BEING MADE
“GET OFF OF ME!”
“Hold her tighter!”
“STOP! I SAID OFF!”
“Bring her before the king!”
“Heretic!”
“We have had enough of her lies!”
“She has forsaken the church!”
“STOP! STOP!”
Shrieks for justice echoed against the ballroom walls, aristocrats swarming the woman they scorned. Their screams and wails drowned out the desperate begging of the high priestess. Guards quickly flooded the ballroom, shouting and shoving the guests to the side, charging to the source of the conflict. The cold skin of the nobles nearly glowed under the candled chandeliers, a sharp contrast to the dark skin of the poor woman they had circled. The guards quickly pushed through the tight swarm of nobles, dividing the ballroom to reach the center of the conflict.
“Clear the way!”
“Move or be removed!”
In a mere moment, two of the guards reached the woman in the center and dragged her away from the two white men who held her down, screaming as she was taken. The woman thrashed and screamed, her heels hitting the armor of the guards with a loud clang. Her flailing did nothing to stop the guards, prompting the guests to clear a path further to avoid getting hit. The guards spoke in unison, straightforward and blunt, asserting themselves against the so-called “threat” they had restrained, as the crowd screamed. Their voices seemed to amalgamate.
“Stop resisting.”
“Resistance is pointless.”
“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!!”
“She’s lying!”
“Charlatan!”
“YOU ASKED FOR A PROPECY, I GAVE YOU ONE!”
“Toss her to the dogs!”
“SILENCE!!!”
A single guard bellowed above the rest, silencing everyone. The Grand Master. His immaculate armor was black with golden, rusted accents running along the rims. His steps were heavy and loud, echoing through the ballroom without care. Those who had dared to circle the high priestess again quickly retreated at the sight of the man towering above them. Within moments, the large man had reached the woman, ripping her from the two silver-clad guards holding her. His hands effortlessly wrapped around her forearm, his gauntlets digging into her flesh. She looked up at him, the burning anger in her eyes quickly chilling to fear. He returned her gaze with cold metal slits, looking back at her. Her mind swarmed with what might happen.
Why is the Grand Master here?
Is he here to save me?
Is he going to let me go?
Am I going to die?
He’s known to be kind, surely he won’t–
The boom of his voice easily shattered her thoughts, shaking her to her core. He was right behind her.
“I will take her before the king! From there, she shall be judged fairly.”
Shit–
She looked up at him, the fear in her eyes increasing tenfold. Without warning, she was unceremoniously dragged off, the Grand Master nearly lifting her by the arm when he started walking. She stumbled as she tried to keep up with his long strides. The crowd rejoiced as she was taken away, their voices filling the ballroom again. Their voices taunted her, loudly echoing off the walls. They looked to be demons in her eyes. The guards that filled the room had forced a new, clear path for the Grand Master to walk through, bowing as he passed. The two took only seconds to exit the ballroom, entering a hall filled with empty rooms. The chatter of the aristocrats could still be heard as guards shouted out a speech about “justice” to them.
“Why are you doing this?”
“It’s my job.”
“This isn’t right!”
“It’s my job.”
The Grand Master suddenly stopped, the heavy thumps of his sabatons no longer echoing through the warm candle-lit halls. The priestess looked up at him, fury and dread in her eyes. The Grand Master slowly looked down at her through the visor of his helmet. He remained silent momentarily, his grip on her arm tightening briefly before relaxing. With a shaking inhale, the high priestess attempts to de-escalate, her voice trembling.
“There are other ways to go about this.”
“Silence.”
“You are going against the church!”
“You spoke out of turn.”
“I spoke the truth! I gave them what they wanted!”
“You went against the king. You are not to give these so-called “prophecies” to anyone other than the king.”
“The king is unfair! He will only speak of my visions if they benefit him!”
“No. He speaks of them when they benefit the kingdom. He is not as cruel as you claim him to be.”
“Says Grand Master. Just admit it. You’re a slave to him. All of us are slaves.”
“I am not a slave. I am a knight. I became a knight willingly. I climbed the ranks on my own. No mere slave could do that.”
“Only those who lick his heels and are sycophants earn his favor. Do you think you are one of them? He favors his court over his kingdom.”
“That means nothing.”
“IT MEANS EVERYTHING!”
Without warning, the Grand Master grabbed the high priestess by the throat and slammed her into a nearby wall. The beads in her hair clacked loudly as she harshly inhaled from the force, the cold metal of the Grand Master gauntlet digging into her neck. The force of impact caused the room to spin and blur, a sickening buzz spreading through her head. Static shot down her spine as she kicked and hit, trying to get him to drop her or ease his grip.
His hand easily wrapped around her neck, forcing her chin up so she would look at him. She braced against the wall with her left hand, the right frantically grasping at the vambrace of his armor. The raw fear on her face was exposed by the warm candles flickering above. The palm of his gauntlet pressed heavily into her neck, his grip tensing as he squeezed her neck, drawing ugly gasps and gags from her. The now-shaking woman tried to lift her head and stretched her neck, trying to accommodate his giant hand. He loomed over her, his form easily casting a shadow over her. He leaned in close and lifted his visor, staring into her wide eyes.
“Raise your voice to me again. I dare you.”
His grip tightened, pressing her firmly against the wall. Her nails desperately clicked against his gauntlet, slapping and banging on it, silently pleading for him to drop her. A sharp ringing sound grew louder as the edges of her vision slowly went white. She cried out, high-pitched squeaks barely audible as she tried to get any air she could.
Instead, he pressed even harder. It felt like he was trying to snap her head off her body.
She felt the room spin once more as the giant of a man harshly pushed her further up the wall, bringing her to his eye level. With his free hand, the Grand Master ripped off his helmet, tossing it to the floor with a loud clang. Locs spilled from the helmet, landing on the pauldrons and backplate of his armor. His black skin glistened with sweat, made evident by the candle above him. His bright, green eyes were accusing, cold, and condescending.
“You know nothing of the king. You know nothing of how things work here. You are clueless to reality outside of your little convent.”
As he spoke, he eased his grip on her throat. She desperately banged and clawed at his gauntlet and vambrace, her vision filling with shadows and sparks as she greedily gasped for air. Her legs flailed and kicked at his fault and chest plate the best she could, her heels doing nothing to help her escape the grasp of her tormentor. She shifted her head and coughed, attempting to fight back verbally.
“You-you're th-the one who knows nothing! Y-YOU GAVE UP YOUR FRE- FREEDOM!!!”
She landed a hard kick to the center of the Grand Master’s armor. It had no effect besides a small, pointless dent caused by the thin leg of her heel. The Grand Master didn’t even flinch. His face remained tense, full of burning rage. He constricted his hand once more, tighter. A vile string of squeaks escapes her, and quiet cracks are heard beneath the ringing in her ears. Suddenly, breathing became all the more difficult. She felt weak, unable to form proper thoughts. Any attempt came out as a hiss or gurgle. Muffled, spinning thoughts ran through her head.
“Is this how I die? Getting choked by the so-called “protector” of this hellish kingdom?”
Just as her vision started to fade completely, the Grand Master dropped her, relaxing his deathly grip on her neck. She hit the ground hard, slumping over. Disgusting, ragged gasps and wheezes rise from her throat as she takes in as much air as she can. Saliva filled her mouth with every breath, each swallow causing a faint clicking sound in her throat.
Her neck was painted with large, painful bruises. Deep purples and sickening reds spread from where the gauntlets and his palm dug into her sensitive flesh. She retched, nausea filling her senses, the room spinning far too fast. The Grand Master did nothing but stare down at the poor woman whom he had almost killed. For a brief moment, regret flooded his mind.
Had the Grand Master just almost killed an innocent person?
No. No. He has more self-control than that.
Before he could even attempt to justify his actions, the high priestess started to vomit, a mix of wine and bile soaking into the elegant red carpets under them. He took a step back, the thought of her waste getting on his sabatons causing him to grimace and look at her with disgust. He moved to pick up his discarded helmet, keeping watch on the woman as he arranged his locs to fit back into his helmet. He stared as she struggled to breathe, fighting against the urge to purge again.
“Get up.”
He looms over her. She gasps out a weak, strained response.
“Or what, you’ll choke me again?”
She looks up at him, her eyes as bitter as the taste in her mouth. She ignored the stain spreading on the carpet below.
It wasn’t her carpet anyway; it was the carpet of a wealthy king who didn’t believe in basic rights or fair treatment.
It was the carpet of a bastard who doesn’t acknowledge anyone below the snobs in his ballroom.
It was the carpet of a man who ignored and mistreated the citizens of his kingdom.
It was the carpet of a power-hungry freak.
It was the carpet of a tyrant.
It was the carpet of the oppressor.
…
It was the carpet of King Drefan.
“I just fucking puked on the carpet of the king who’s probably gonna execute me tonight…”
Before the dread could properly set in, the Grand Master roughly grabbed her arm again, yanking her to her feet. His gauntlet felt colder than it did before. The entire room felt colder than before. The candles looked dimmer, and the creaking of the floor sounded louder. Each step seemed to echo through the seemingly endless hallway.
“You'd better hope one of the maids finds your mess and cleans it up before the morning. His Majesty likes to walk the halls in the mornings.”
He took a step, feeling the drag of her half-limp body.
“Come, we’re leaving.”
The Grand Master tugged the panicking girl along, ignoring how her breathing picked up. He ignored how she tried to free herself from his relatively loose grip. He ignored her begging whispers, her cries to be tossed out of the castle instead. He ignored reality setting in.
Anything would be better than seeing the king in her mind.
Anything would be better than facing punishment from the man you detest.
Anything is better than facing a man who you know will kill you just for living.
She started to beg.
She started to thrash.
She started to cry.
“Please, please, please, please, please, I didn’t do anything to them, they just started screaming and yelling and grabbing me! Please, I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Calm down, you’re fine.”
“No, I’m not! They’re going to kill me!”
“They won’t.”
With another harsh tug, the girl tried to escape the Grand Master's grasp. Her heels dug into the carpet, attempting to use her weight against the giant pulling her forward.
“Yes, they will! They’re going to–”
Cold metal crashes over the girl's mouth, a large gauntlet caressing the back of her head simultaneously. She tried to scream.
“They won’t do shit to you if you keep quiet and listen to me.”
The Grand Master’s voice came out in a bitter hiss, each syllable dripping with irritation. His cold glare could be felt through the slits of his visor as his grip on the back of her head tensed. He didn’t let go. Even as she tried to grip his gauntlet away from her mouth and tried to scream, he held her as still as he could.
“Now calm down, Maika.”
Hearing her name, the high priestess tenses. She hasn’t heard that name in ages. It was always priestess, or the oracle, never her name. It caused a strange feeling to bubble in her chest. Dread? Hope? Disgust?
Her silence, fueled by her racing mind, led to the Grand Master finally removing his hand from her mouth, taking a step back.
“We shall make a deal.”
“Ka-”
“Silence. Listen to me.”
He steps further back, looking left and right, checking the halls—no visible civilians. The sound of the party is far off, becoming faint chatter. Good. No other guards or maids. Great. He steps close once more, looming over Maika.
“I will tell the King it was a misunderstanding. That you didn’t give those… nobels a prophecy. You were swarmed and cornered. It will be their word against mine, yes, but the King holds me in high regard. He should believe me over them.”
“Promise?”
“...Promise.”
“High Priestess Maika, you are hereby banished from the Kingdom of Uelina. You have betrayed my trust, daring to give a prophecy so… petrifying.”
Silence fills the throne room. Not even a whisper comes from the normally gossiping royal court. Maika can only stand before the large King, a scowl on his wrinkled face.
“Leave this place.”
“...Yes, my King.”
