Chapter 17: The Tyrant

“I can’t thank you enough for taking us in, Jurt. You’ve truly saved us,” said Cyrilo, sitting at her fellow brothel owner’s counter. With their arrival, business was suspended to keep their presence a secret.

The bearded man shook his head. “Don’t you dare thank me, Cyrilo. You’ve saved me from plenty of trouble over the years. Helping you now isn’t some exceptional act; it is the bare minimum requirement of a good man.”

Nearby, Daniel was glancing through the curtains into the dark street. “I don’t see any troops. It doesn’t appear we were followed.”

Alexis sat beside the fireplace, staring into the dying flames as seawater dripped from her clothes. Sophia threw some wood on the fire and wrapped a blanket around Alexis.

“Let’s warm you up. The last thing we need is for you to catch springburn.” Alexis didn’t answer, and Sophia kneeled in front of her, clutching her shivering hands and healing her bloody fingers. “You did nothing wrong. None of this is on you.”

“Lucius gave his life to save mine because I wasn’t strong enough to protect him. The people we were trying to save were slaughtered and arrested because I wasn’t strong enough to protect them. It’s just like Bella all over again, but at least then I could say we lost because she was a Profane. Now ... we lost because I was too weak to do anything. I keep thinking back to all that time I spent in the basement, pummeling that fucking bag, telling myself, ‘Never again, never again,’ and for what? It happened again.”

“This is not your failure; it’s theirs, those angry fools marching to Galvin’s tune. This is the knighthood’s failure for abandoning their duties and succumbing to the temptation of cruelty, for choosing to oppress the weak because it’s easier than fighting the strong. None of this is your fault. You are a proud and mighty pine, awash in an avalanche of ineptitude and savagery.”

“So you say they raided the Knight’s Sheath?” Jurt asked.

“They hauled everyone away in chains,” said Cyrilo. “Even Sir Aithorn was arrested. I managed to pack some essentials in this knight ring, and unless they demolish the place and torch the library, we aren’t without options.”

“What will happen to everyone?” Daniel asked.

“They’ll be taken to the arena,” said Alexis. “They’ll either be forced to fight against monsters until they die, or they’ll just be lined up and executed for the cheering crowd.”

“Is there anything we can do? Any way we could save them?” Sophia asked.

“Not without killing Galvin, and if we do that, the Wassengel will annihilate this whole city,” said Cyrilo.

“At this point, that’s starting to sound like a good thing,” Alexis spat.

Everyone was given rooms for the night, grateful just to have beds to sleep on. After losing Lucius and their home, they fell quickly to sleep, exhausted with grief and sorrow, except for Alexis. Lying beside Sophia, listening to her gentle breathing, she should have been more tired than anyone, but all she could do was stare at the ceiling and think.

The next morning, Sophia woke up in bed alone. “Alexis?” she mumbled before noticing a note on the pillow beside hers. As she read it, her heart sank.

‘Get Cyrilo and the others as far away from the city as fast as you can. I’m putting an end to this. -Love, in this life and the next, Alexis’

“Madam Cyrilo!” Sophia shouted.

Aithorn grimaced at the meal before him, for it could barely be called that. Upon hitting the ground after being tossed into his cell, the little wooden bowl spilled half of its cold, watery oatmeal onto the floor, not that any of it would be missed. A piece of soggy bread rolled out, discolored with mold and wiggling from the bugs that had gotten into it.

“Eat up, traitor,” the guard scoffed as he walked away.

“Is this really what we’ve been feeding the prisoners all this time?” Aithorn asked.

“Indeed,” said Berholm in the next cell. “Maybe we do belong in here after all. Maybe this is our retribution. When I get out of here, I am going to completely remake our system for handling criminals, because this is just cruel.”

“I swear, when Queen Elisandra hears about this, she’ll rip this city apart and turn it into a forest. I can’t say I’ll be very inclined to stop her.”

“We just have to wait it out. Either Sir Tarnas or Noah will come to save us. You’re an elf, the time should pass in the blink of an eye for you.”

“I’ve never been one for waiting. I’d rather spend that time getting us out of here.”

Aithorn smashed his wooden bowl against the ground, breaking it into pieces. He selected the thinnest piece and ground it against the stone floor to properly shape it. Fitting his shackled hands through the cell bars and reaching the lock took some flexibility, but he managed.

“Are you seriously trying to pick a magic lock with a piece of wood?”

“You’re ruining my concentration.”

“What concentration? You’re just jamming that stick into the keyhole. All you’re doing is filling it with sawdust and wood pulp. They could come to let us out, and their own key wouldn’t even fit. You’re actually making us even more trapped. You understand that, don’t you?”

“It’s better than doing nothing.”

“Is it, though? Is it really? Do you even know how locks work?”

“Well, it’s dwarvish-made, so I guess it’ll open for me if I just give it some spirits.”

“If it was an elvish lock, we’d just have to tell it an off-color joke, and it would faint in distress.”

After a while, a sound caught Aithorn’s pointed ears. It was a spell striking its target and a body hitting the floor, followed by footsteps, but these were not the steps of a soldier’s boots. Elyot arrived, swinging a ring of keys on his finger.

“Gentlemen, I hope you’re finding the accommodations to your lodgings satisfactory.”

“Look who climbed down from his ivory tower. Took you long enough,” said Berholm.

“Yes, well, unlike you, I still have a job, so excuse me if I’m not available at all hours of the day.”

“Thank you for coming to our aid,” said Aithorn.

“Think nothing of it.” Elyot then tried to unlock Aithorn’s cell, but it wasn’t working. “I can’t fit the key in. It’s like someone filled the lock with dirt.”

It was the hardest Berholm had ever laughed in his life.

That afternoon, crowds flooded the arena stands for their daily dose of violence, unaware that a disavowed knight was in their midst. Hiding her hair and face with a stolen cloak, Alexis moved through the crowd, searching for a good vantage point. Guards were constantly patrolling, so she would have to work quickly. Already, captured criminals were being pitted against each other in the ring, and the crowds cheered in delight with every drop of blood spilled. She soon arrived at a suitable location to look out across the arena and, more importantly, see Galvin in his box seat.

Holding out her hand, she conjured her knight bow and an arrow from within her ring. She pulled the string back and began charging the arrow with mana. In all likelihood, there was a magic barrier protecting Galvin, similar to the one protecting the audience. If she could gather and hone her mana into a powerful enough shot, she may be able to break through and end his life.

Once he was dead, the Wassengel would rise from the sea and obliterate Colbrand, killing her and everyone else, but after everything that had happened, she wasn’t sure Colbrand deserved to exist, and she could think of no better way to die than by taking Galvin down with her. She just hoped Sophia had gotten Cyrilo and the others out. She wished she could have given her lover a proper farewell, to see her one last time, but Sophia would do everything she could to talk her out of it.

Down below, the fight ended, and the new announcer stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special show for you today! The den of sin known as the Knight’s Sheath has been disbanded, and the traitors inside have been arrested and brought to justice! They stand before you now, in chains!”

On cue, one of the doors at the edge of the ring opened, and all of the courtesans of the Knight’s Sheath were dragged out with iron collars. There were also female refugees mixed in, all of them stripped of their clothes and forced to walk naked in front of the jeering crowd, sobbing in terror and humiliation. They were pulled to the middle of the ring, desperately trying to cover their bodies as tears streamed down their faces. The soldiers pulling the chains removed their collars and left them there.

Seeing them, Alexis’s heart sank, and her stomach felt full of sand. If she killed Galvin, they would be killed by the Wassengel. However, if she tried to intervene, she would surely be murdered by all of the knights and soldiers in attendance, and the horror would continue. Could she really doom the people she had sworn to protect? Or was the only way to save them to give them a quick death by the power of the Wassengel?

“Look at these disgusting beasts!” the announcer taunted, with the crowds cheering in agreement. “Their only skill is spreading their legs! Well, since they chose to live like whores, they’re going to die like whores!”

Doors on the opposite side of the ring opened, and out came a swarm of male ogres, stripped of their clothes the same way. Snarling and confused, they looked around with their huge cycloptic eyes, unable to process the sight around them with their primitive brains. That changed when they spotted the women. Typically, ogres only saw the other races as food or something to pit their young against to make them stronger, but thanks to the aphrodisiacs they had been given, they were all fully erect and eager to breed.

“Enjoy it, ladies! After all, beasts should only mate with beasts!” the announcer laughed as he moved out of the way.

The ogres took off in a sprint towards the women, their cocks swinging and bouncing between their legs. The women screamed in terror and scattered, with the ogres chasing them down and wrestling them to the ground. One of the women, a young refugee from Handent, sobbed as an ogre grabbed her by the back of the head and forced her face into the dirt. Leaning over, it grunted excitedly, saliva dripping from its exposed fangs. She could feel its member knocking against her entrance, then as it reached back to guide itself in, it suddenly released a gurgling groan, as if punched in the gut, and it fell on its side, its life ended by the arrow lodged in its temple.

Alexis sprinted down the steps that ran through the stands, launching arrows, one after another. In her mind, she heard screams, not from the women in the ring or the shocked audience, but from that barn on her family’s property, the one she snuck into all those years ago, the screams of that mother and her daughter. Never again would she hear them, never again would she allow them to cry out like that.

The ogres, sensing the deaths of their kin, turned away from the sobbing women and focused instead on the one that had jumped into the ring with them. Whether they saw her as breeding stock like the others or if their drive to kill had overpowered their drive to mate, they ran towards her with bloodthirsty snarls. Alexis ended their lives with well-placed shots, then, as they drew closer, she returned her bow to her ring and conjured a sword.

The first that reached her swung wide, but she ducked under its arm and stabbed it through the gut, the blade going into its left side and coming out the right. Then she yanked her sword like a lever, pulling it free while ripping open the ogre’s torso and spilling its intestines onto the ground. She approached the next ogre, and as it tried to grab her with a bear hug, she brought up her sword with an uppercut slash, carving its chest open like she was gutting a fish. The third ogre, trying to tackle her, missed as she stepped to the side, only to have its head removed from its neck with an elegant swing. She finished off the rest of them and reached the middle of the ring, ushering the women to gather around her.

The crowd rained boos upon her, furious that she had interrupted their entertainment, while in his seat, Galvin watched with an amused smirk. He then turned to one of his guards. “Get Gradius. Tell him a rat escaped the trap, and he needs to deal with it. I’m going to enjoy watching her burn.”

Alexis looked out at the crowds, her rage building, until finally, she screamed at the top of her lungs, “ENOUGH OF THIS MADNESS!” Her voice, propelled by anger and frustration, silenced much of the crowds, but she wasn’t done. “Look at yourselves! Look at what you’re cheering for! Women being raped by monsters! Is this really what our country has become?! Is this really how far you’ve let yourselves fall?!

This used to be a good city, a city I could be proud of, but Galvin has twisted you all and poisoned you with hatred and insanity! He’s turned you into the kind of people that revel in horror and bloodshed, the kind of people you’re supposed to be fighting against! This man, who proclaims himself to be a god, who demands you worship him, has turned you into demons! The true gods have abandoned this city because you all turned your backs on them and now follow a devil!

Our city is rotting, and none of you have noticed because you’re all fixated on your own hatred, so eager for someone to look down on and oppress, desperate to blame those who are too weak to fight back! The streets are littered with filth and corpses! Our markets are empty! Our taxes are building statues to a madman’s vanity! When will it be enough?! How long will you let yourselves be deceived into chasing scapegoats?!

Remember the Profane? They’re the ones we’re supposed to be fighting against! The monsters who burn temples, who slaughter the innocent, who corrupt everything they touch! Guess what? They’ve won! They’ve already seized victory because you’re now just as bad as them! You’re burning, slaughtering, and corrupting just like they do! At this point, you might as well welcome them with open arms because I can’t tell the difference anymore! They don’t need to destroy us because we’ve already destroyed ourselves!

I say no more! No more bloodshed! No more oppression! No more insanity! I’m sick of waking up afraid of my own people! I’m sick of fearing for the innocents who just want to live! I’m sick of seeing death in the streets where there used to be life! I’m sick of all this unearned sense of superiority built of hatred! And if any of you still has a soul, still has a heart, you’re sick of it too! Enough of this madness! No more!”

Alexis stopped to catch her breath. Her chest was heaving, her heart racing, and her throat feeling like it was on fire. Her voice echoed across the audience, left silenced and humbled by her words, just as Noah had done on Knight’s Day. The people of Colbrand now felt the icy needles of shame pricking their hearts.

“No more!” a man shouted, standing up with his fist raised.

“No more!” another exclaimed.

“No more!” a woman added.

One by one, people were standing up and adding their voices, with the chant rapidly growing. The men and women who were forced to remain silent out of fear of retaliation, who had averted their eyes from the slaughter and oppression because they couldn’t stop it, they had found their voice and were screaming to the heavens. Others, realizing how far they had fallen, and feeling ashamed of their depravity, voiced their regret and support.

Hearing the discontent, Galvin lost his smirk and felt a chill crawl up his spine. “Arrest them now! I want those whores dead!” he shrilly screamed.

Knights and soldiers rushed into the ring to apprehend Alexis and the women. They stopped and formed a perimeter, with Alexis readying her bow. In retaliation, the people chanted even louder and threw garbage at the troops. Regardless, Galvin raised his hand to give the signal to kill, only to be stopped by his wrist being grabbed and a knife put to his throat.

“No more,” Aithorn growled behind him, surrounded by knocked-out guards.

“What are you going to do, kill me? If you do that, the Wassengel will—”

“Then we all die, right here and right now. You think I came here without knowing that? But even in the afterlife, I’ll keep punishing you. Now let them go; let everyone you’re keeping prisoner here. What’s it going to be, Your Majesty?”

Every spiteful instinct in Galvin’s deranged mind was telling him to go through with the order, to have Alexis and the others killed as one final vengeful act before dying in a blaze of sour grapes, but the sensation of cold steel against his neck cut through those selfish desires.

“Stand down!” he shouted, causing all the soldiers and knights to lower their weapons. “Let them go! And release all of the prisoners!”

The soldiers moved away to fulfill his orders, and only once all of the captured beastmen and courtesans were released into the ring did Aithorn let Galvin go with a shove.

“The next time you or any of your minions go near the Knight’s Sheath, I will reduce the palace to rubble and bury you alive in your shattered legacy,” the elf warned.

Galvin turned to him with an indignant scowl. “This isn’t over.”

“You’re right,” replied Aithorn with a small smile, “this is only the beginning.”

Hugs were exchanged, and tears were shed as everyone reunited at the Knight’s Sheath. After their terrifying ordeal at the arena, many of the women were still coming to terms with their safety, and that the tide had turned for them. Sophia, however, storming towards Alexis, had no joy in her eyes, only fury.

“How could you do that to me?!” Sophia shouted, silencing all of the rejoicing around them. “How could you just leave me without saying goodbye?! How could you force me to live without you?! Force me to mourn you?! You can’t say you love me if you would hurt me like that! That’s not— That’s not—!” Sophia crumbled, and Alexis held her, similarly shedding tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t sit still any longer, not after losing Lucius. I didn’t care if I lived or died, just so long as all my pain and anger disappeared with me. I was stupid and selfish, and I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, Lucius is dead?” one of the courtesans asked.

“He was killed by Gradius,” Cyrilo murmured with her eyes downcast.

Suddenly, the tears of joy and relief shed by all were replaced with tears of sorrow. Lucius had been a pillar of the Knight’s Sheath for years, protecting and caring for the girls. He was the closest many of them ever had to a father, the only man who never wanted anything from them. Though it hadn’t been plundered yet after the raid, the Knight’s Sheath had suffered damage. While everything broken could be fixed, not all that was lost could be replaced.

“So what now?” Daniel asked.

Cyrilo glanced over to the bar, both fully stocked and yet now looking so empty. “We do what we’ve always done: we endure in defiance. We rest until we can limp, limp until we can walk, walk until we can run, and run until we can fight. The illusion of the Galvin hivemind has been broken. All those who disagree with him have voiced their disgust at what this city has become. Not only does Galvin know he is not as widely supported as he thought, but everyone on our side now knows they are not alone. They’ve heard the cries of their comrades in this war for Uther’s soul. Now they know to shout and keep shouting.”

“Are we going to continue helping and ferrying the refugees from Handent?” Alexis asked.

“We are, and I trust you to strike down whoever tries to stop us.” Cyrilo stood before Alexis. “Lucius didn’t just sacrifice himself for you. He sacrificed himself for everyone he knew you would save. He sacrificed himself for all the good he knew you would do in this world. That is a heavy debt to carry, but I know you’ll do so with pride.”

Alexis blushed in determination. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good, now let’s get some food cooking. I think everyone needs a full belly right now.”

Over the coming days, the attitude in Colbrand rapidly changed. Alexis had shaken the public from Galvin’s hypnosis, and though many clung steadfast to their loyalty and their prejudice, the tide was turning against them. The most vocal, those who thought everyone agreed with them because they shouted over anyone who didn’t, now found themselves being condemned for their bloodshed and hatred. Upon advocating for violence against beastmen, they found themselves on the receiving end instead, put in their place by those who were sick of the toxicity and vitriol that had plagued Colbrand.

Beastmen, who not long ago had been beaten and murdered simply for walking the streets, were now being rescued by ordinary citizens when in the face of danger. The Loyalist faction, originally dwarfing the Noah faction, found its membership shrinking as the bystanders and reluctant collaborators found the courage to rebel and stand against the institutionalized oppression Galvin was trying to create.

Galvin was also receiving more and more criticism from the public. Until now, he had shoved all of his work off onto his appointed delegates and subordinates, but while they were skilled in kissing ass and sucking up to him, their governing abilities left much to be desired, and the city and nation were suffering for it. Now, people were paying attention to how the streets were filling with garbage, and the markets were drying up. Galvin’s go-to excuse of “the beastmen did it” was falling flat.

Galvin responded to this turn the only way he knew how: poorly. He doubled down and became even more extreme, using his ego and sense of denial to combat reality closing in on him. He’d order a grand parade to escort him every time he left the palace. Magic and acrobatic performers, trained animals doing tricks, musicians and singers, beautiful women throwing sweets to bystanders, he had a whole circus in front and behind him as he traveled the streets in the largest, gaudiest, most extravagant carriage that could be constructed. Similarly, he made the arena battles even more intense, pouring ever more monsters and fighters into the ring to kill each other, but the money earned through seating and admittance could no longer cover the cost of production.

At the palace, he hosted daily parties, trying to entice nobles into obeying him by offering a bounty of slave girls to exploit and the finest food and liquor that money could buy, money that he didn’t have. However, even the most hedonistic aristocrats would soon lose their appetite for pleasure as Galvin’s wickedness and insanity were exposed. The way he humiliated and tortured women went beyond rough play, and just as one bad apple spoiled the bunch, one bloody corpse ruined an orgy. Like everything else, these parties grew more and more expensive each day, even as attendees dwindled.

Advisors like Strauss, the competent who had been forced into silence by fear, now had no choice but to confront him, warning of the massive budget crisis Galvin was pushing them towards. Both nobles and commoners were voicing their outrage, realizing that their raised taxes were being used to fund his extravagance.

Still, Galvin had his loyal followers, those who could not accept fault for their mistakes or shame for their actions, and invested even more heavily in the lies he told them. He’d rant for hours from his balcony, screaming about how he and his followers were under attack from every angle, how they were the underdogs fighting for truth and justice, and how he was the living god that would save them.

He’d rail against elves and dwarves, calling them sympathizers to the beastman menace and allies to the Profane. He’d demonize churches that didn’t exalt him as the chosen one and call the priests liars for not doing what he said. To combat Cyrilo’s advocacy for public education and the free spread of information, he’d host book burnings, where tomes and art would be hurled into the flames for the cheers of his lunatic followers. All knowledge from the old world had to be burned so a new age could be started for Uther, an age shaped entirely by Galvin.

With more and more problems arising each day and no solutions being released, protests began to build. Groups would chant for Galvin to be removed from power, and his reign of terror forcefully ended. Even if he could control the Wassengel, he was unfit to rule. He’d crack down on these groups with violence and oppression, sending soldiers and knights out to beat the objectors into submission, but this only incited his critics further, and each protest group was larger than the last.

As his failures mounted and the stress built, his grip on reality weakened. He’d often wander the palace halls, barefoot and shirtless, wearing his father’s crown, jewelry, and finest fur coat, swinging a liquor bottle around. He’d brag to, argue with, and insult people who weren’t there. When one of his imaginary critics infuriated him, he’d take his rage out on whatever was nearby, smashing furniture, tearing up books and artwork, and immersing himself deeper and deeper in insanity. If his guards accompanied him, he’d scream that they were in the way, and when they were absent, he’d accuse them of trying to get him killed.

He continued going to Ziradith’s tower for conjugal visits, but as the burdens of leadership weighed on Galvin and his inability to rise to the challenge became more apparent, his attitude began to change. His taunts and insults became probes for answers.

“What do I do about these ungrateful plebeians?”

“How should I balance the budget?”

“All these nobles keep hounding me. How do I deal with them?”

Despite his dominance over her, it was inevitable he’d fall into old patterns. He had no idea what he was doing and relied on his mother to bail him out. She’d refuse to help him, and he’d respond with sexual torture, but after everything she had endured, she managed to resist. When cruelty failed, he’d tried to goad her motherly instincts, attempting to bribe her with luxuries and privileges, even letting her out of her room. He’d lean against her, begging for advice while remaining erect inside her. Though she no longer had him on a mental leash, Ziradith realized that she could simply control her son with sex. He’d do whatever he told her as long as he was ejaculating while she spoke.

Still, this was only a temporary measure. Between his growing insanity and poor leadership, Galvin’s days were numbered. Even with the Wassengel, the people wouldn’t put up with him if this madness continued. The writing was on the wall. Eventually, he would be ousted, and she’d lose her control over Uther.

There was only one way to keep the throne within her grasp: she had to bear another child of royal blood. As long as she had a child who could control the Wassengel, she had leverage over the people. However, Leonard was dead, and both Lupin and Seraph were absent, meaning the only source of royal genealogy was Galvin. After all of the sick things he had done to her, getting pregnant was easy.

One night, she found Galvin in the throne room in the middle of a fit. Screaming and swearing, he was throwing random objects around. Smashing dishes and antiques against the wall seemed to slightly ease his frustration. The guards had all been banished from the throne room, and only maids were allowed, if only to bring him for things to destroy. However, anyone who displeased him, even if they did nothing wrong, left with black eyes and swollen cheeks.

Finally, he collapsed on the throne, sitting with his head in his hands. “Don’t these ungrateful shits realize I’m the king?! They should be bowing to me, worshipping me as a god!”

Ziradith approached from behind, wearing a thin negligee. Her nipples were poking through, and there was a black patch between her legs visible through the cloth, revealing she wasn’t wearing any undergarments. Standing behind him, she rubbed his shoulders, trying to hide her disdain. If Galvin figured out what she was up to, he’d surely execute her. She had to fully wrap him around her finger and get pregnant as quickly as possible.

“Shhhhh, it’s ok. They will learn to love you.”

“They don’t understand how hard I’m working! Everything I do for them! They should all just die!”

“You’re right; they don’t understand the terrible burdens of being king. They don’t understand what a wise and mighty ruler you are. But I do.” She circled around and stood in front of him. Seeing Ziradith in her alluring outfit, having become addicted to the taboo of her body, left Galvin painfully erect. She got down on her knees before him and freed his manhood from its cloth prison. “I know how hard you work, how brave you are,” she said as she stroked him. “But you don’t have to worry about them right now. Let Mommy take care of you.”

She lowered her head and began sucking his cock. Before, she would do it under coercion, putting in the least amount of effort that would spare her punishment. Now, she was going at it voraciously, massaging her son with every soft corner of her mouth. Galvin rolled his head back and groaned happily, having never experienced his mother’s full oral skill. The sound of wet suction forming and breaking, of muffled hums and pleasured groans filled the throne room.