Chapter 6

Kingslayer

Darian found himself confined in a small, damp dungeon with three cells lining one wall. He recognized the walls of the castle’s dungeon, located several floors below his own chambers. Beyond the cells was a massive window overlooking the front yard, teeming with guards.

Time seemed to blur for Darian as he drifted in and out of consciousness, tormented by constant headaches. The only visitor he received during the captivity was the commandant, who arrived every evening with a meager portion of poorly cooked vegetables and scraps of meat.

One morning, he was rudely awakened by the sound of a commotion outside his cell.

“Wake up, prisoner,” the commandant barked. “The king has arrived.”

Darian lifted his head and saw a towering, white-haired man standing before him.

“You may leave, Frison,” the king said with voice echoing in the damp dungeon. The commandant bowed and quickly exited, leaving Darian alone with the imposing figure of the king.

Inglud said nothing for a couple of minutes, his piercing gaze scanning the cell.

“Within a month, you will be sent to the North to extract gold in the cold mines with other prisoners. That’s the life that awaits you from this point on. Be grateful that you’re still breathing,” the king said with a tone of finality.

“Fuck you.”

Without warning, a huge hand seized Darian by the throat and lifted him up. His air supply was cut off, and he struggled to breathe as he dangled helplessly in the air.

“I could strangle you right here and now, but I don’t know how I’ll explain it to your brother,” the king said, his grip tightening on Darian’s throat. He released him, and Darian fell heavily onto the cold, unforgiving stone floor.

“I bet you enjoyed yourself,” the king said after a pause, his words dripping with venom. “You had a chance to touch the queen. Don’t be sad. At least now you’ll have something to remember after a hard day in the mines. And while you rot there, I’ll keep producing heirs with her. I’ll impregnate her with the one while you’re still in the castle. Think about it every second you’re here.”

Prince was silent. He crawled sluggishly into cells’ corner.

“I can’t believe you are one of the Serpent-Slayers,” he king muttered before turning and exiting the cell, leaving the prince alone once more.

“You will believe,” Darian thought to himself, despite the pounding pain in his head.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, he fought to piece together the events that just happened. “I have to remember everything. I have to remember my hatred,” he urged himself, but his mind continued to slip away.

Suddenly, a figure loomed over him, and he recognized Narim’s face.

“How long has it been?” Darian rubbed tired eyes and strained head to remember recent meeting with the King.

“You’ve been here for two weeks, my prince,” Narim replied softly. “I am so sorry for everything that has happened to you.”

“Yeah, me too.” Despite the tumultuous circumstances, he couldn’t deny that the one moment he had shared with the queen had made it all worthwhile.

“Prince. Do you hear me?” Narim clicked in front of his face.

“Yes, I can hear you. You don’t have to click in front of my face. Have you come to say goodbye or what?”

“I’m sorry,” Narim said, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “Actually, I have come to offer you salvation.” He discreetly retrieved a tiny key from his belt. “Escape tonight. Start a new life, hide, and forget everything that happened. Forget your past life.”

Darian scoffed, his body aching from his time in the dungeon. “And what? Live like a rat? You’re underestimating me again, my old friend. I thought you would know me better than all those king’s ass-lickers. I thought you would know that I am a conqueror! I am Darian the Serpent-Slayer.” He rose, resting his hand on the cold wall of the dungeon. “I won’t live like a rat in oblivion, forgetting my past. Just give me the key and go...”

Narim held out the key, and Darian hastily hid it beneath the prisoner’s robes. “Thank you anyway, my friend,” he said, his voice softer now.

“Farewell, Prince,” Narim said, bowing before roughly leaving the cell.

As the prince looked at Narim with his swollen eye, he spoke softly, “Hey, Narim.”

“Yes?” Narim responded before leaving.

“What day of the week is it?”

“It is the Day of Golden Sun. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Darian smiled weakly, feeling the absence of a few teeth.

As the sun set, the night descended upon Galatley, and the full moon appeared in the sky. It was the Day of the Golden Sun, the final day of the week and an occasion for revelry and drunkenness throughout the land. The King Inglud always visit the queen in her chambers on this day, indulging in alcohol before performing his marital duties. Darian knew without a doubt that the king would try to take advantage of the queen tonight.

He promised to impregnate her while Darian is still in the castle. Than today is the day. He has to act now to not make it happen. With Narim’s key in hand, Darian carefully opened the cell gates and stowed it back into his prisoner’s robe.

“I can climb from here through the window and get to my room,” Darian peered out into the night. He scanned the area below, taking note of the patrol that had just passed the garden. He knew that the window overlooked the outer courtyard, full of guards who could easily spot him if he wasn’t careful. With a deep breath, Darian began to climb up the rough stone wall.

“Hey, what’s that?!” a voice called out from below.

“Another patrol,” Darian cursed to himself, silently urging his body to move faster.

“You’re just drunk. There is nothing there.”

With a surge of adrenaline, Darian propelled himself upwards, his fingers gripping tightly onto the rough brickwork. He was almost there when his foot slipped treacherously off the ledge. He quickly wrapped his arms around a protruding brick and pulled himself up, leaping through the half-open window into his own quarters.

“I tell you I saw something!” The voices became even clearer, the guards moved closer to the wall, but Darian paid them no mind. He extracted a brick from the wall, exposing his hidden cache. From within it, he retrieved a small, gleaming dagger and a dark cloak, its fabric expertly chosen to blend seamlessly into the castle walls.

“The castle hallways are too dangerous to use, so I have to take the more perilous route along the ramparts”

With the dagger between teeth, he scaled the wall and made his way over the old stones of the castle ramparts. The full moon had disappeared behind thick clouds, leaving only the dim light of a few torches to guide him. Patrols walked by, their footsteps echoing in the night, but Darian stayed hidden in the shadows, making his way ever closer to the queen’s chambers.