The High King Of Rathdrum

Nessa

There’s been another murder in the woods. Another child, too, but nothing shocking about that. They are always children.

The murders started about a year ago, when the High King rose to power. The High King has an “obligation, a duty, to preserve the minds of our youth.” In other words, he likes to keep the children of his kingdom stupid and uneducated, so as they do not rebel, revolt, or make any move to overthrow him and his seat upon the throne. My brother, Zachariah, worships him, as he was raised to believe in the same things the king does- that all peasants like us, even all the aristocrats children, should be left uneducated, bowing to him on his mighty throne.

Growing up with my father, perhaps, is what led me to decide to travel through the woods to Avoca and back, all in one night, all the while managing not to get mysteriously murdered. My father works with the High King’s High Inquisitor, to make sure all local shops and trade systems aren’t hiding any illegal marketing. They are, of course, but my father works to hard to impress the High King and his High Inquisitor that I dare not tell him for fear of hurting his pride.

So, no matter all the recent and past murders, I shall still travel through the woods tonight to retrieve a search warrant for a tiny yarn shoppe just down the road, so my father can investigate.

Cullen

I do not have a good relationship with my father, the minister. He would rather save his own neck than do his duty to the people, “saving them”, “helping them on the path to self- preservation”. I, on the other hand, would prefer to be a knight of the High King, or perhaps one of his fabled assassins, who kill anyone who dares to cross him.

Nevermind that, though, because, seeing as he would rather him alive and well than me, he seems prompted to ask me a… favor. Again.

“Cullen.” He glowers in the doorway to my living quarters.

“I need a favor.”

“Yes, Father?” I feel my insides twitch. He isn’t exactly the best person to do a favor for.

He raises his eyebrows.

I glare at him. “Of course, Father.”

“Good. Now, I know you’re a strong boy, Cullen. You can handle a few cowardly bandits who like to make fun by killing children.” He pauses there, as both him and I know that that is not what he thinks is happening at all.

“Cullen, you need to travel to Avoca tonight. I need some supplies for my next sermon that they only have at that neat little bible shop in Avoca.” He wants me to go into the woods, at night, and risk my life, all for a bible?

“Cullen, you’re not a boy anymore. You can handle one night in the woods. God wants you to follow this path, Cullen.”

Apparently, God has something against the fact that I remain alive.

“Yes, Father.” I grumble.

Nessa

The woods are quiet except for the occasional chirp of a cricket, or brush of a squirrel's tail. I, against my father’s will, have taken my sword and sheath, and they now bump against my leg, pinned to my creamy white dress. My red hair has been pulled into a long ponytail falling down my back, with two braids framing my face.

I am awfully jumpy, but as there has been no monsters passing by my right shoulder yet, I have relaxed a little. For the next few miles, I walk alone in peace.

Then I see it.

Cullen

I hear only a few cracks of sticks on the forest floor and scuffles of playful squirrels before I hear the creature. It is cloaked in black, like a young traveler might be. The black cloak swishes loudly. The only thing that suggests that it is inhuman is its breathing. It goes in like a baby rattling a dry gourd, and comes back out with a ragged cough. It is walking slowly towards me. I draw my sword. I will admit it, I am more afraid of the silence pressing around me than the actual creature. It puts on a sudden burst of speed, it’s own knife in hand. I will not go down without a fight. For the first time ever, I make the sign of a cross in the air, and sprint.

Nessa

I trip over leaves and thorny bushes on the ground. I smash into trees, and jump over roots. Nothing will stop me from running away. I hear a scream. It’s long, piercing. Then I realize I am the one screaming. My heart pounds, my legs feel numb. Then, there is a person. He smashes into me, both our swords drawn within the second. I back away, panting hard.

“Did they chase you too?” He asks hoarsely.

“Yes.”

We watch each other in silence, hardened stare meeting hardened stare.

“Are they gone?”

“I’m not sure.”

I replace my sword in its sheath. He follows suit.

Cullen

Her braids are falling out, her ponytail scraggly. She looks ferral. She puts her sword in her sheath, as do I. I can’t tell what she is thinking. I wish I knew. She reminds me of this boy I used to take classes with at the town square before the High King outlawed youth teachings. I believe his last name was O’Mallon, which makes her the sister he always talked about, Nessa.

Nessa

I know who he is the minute I get a good look at him. He’s the MacAleese boy. Cullen, I believe. His father is the minister. He is gossiped about quite a bit, he is said the be atheist, not to believe in God, nevermind his father being a minister. I am pulled out of my thoughts by a loud crash as the large black shape that was previously chasing my tumbles into the bramble patch we now stand in. Blood spatters the trees before anyone can scream, I don’t know who from, perhaps from Cullen. I whip my head around, to see that, thankfully, there is the… thing… dead on the ground, and there is Cullen, shocked look on his face and a bloody sword in his hand.

Cullen

I can’t help it. I know, I am nearly an adult, but I still can’t help but cry. Nessa comes over and touches my arm gently, but I see her glance over at the dead body. She doesn’t understand. She still thinks it’s a monster, but I know better. It’s human. My sword slashed through its body and I felt a human-ness that no creature can posses. I killed a human. She moves away from me towards the body.

I wipe my eyes and watch her lift up the black cloak covering the body.

“Oh my.” She murmurs, “Oh my. Oh my!”

I stumble over to her and follow her gaze to a small gold pin on the inside of the bloodied hood. It’s circular, with a tiny tree, rounded so the roots are touching the leaves, with the actual leaves curved in runic designs.

It’s the symbol of the High King of Rathdrum.

And next to it, the broken face of the High King’s dead assassin.