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Chapter 27: Ivar

Chapter 27: Ivar's POV

Sorry for my little break. Read some of my announcements for updates as to reasons. But thank you for being so understanding :D <3

Anyway….
I'm excited for this one >:))))

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The breeze is refreshing, blowing over the forest and carrying the scent of greenery and plants into the town. I take a deep breath, savoring the smell of the surrounding woods, and close my eyes briefly.

"Your grace?" A small voice says behind me. Without looking back I respond.

"Yes?"

"Uhm… the uh… the c-court is ready for you." She stutters. I turn to look at her. She's a small, petite girl. Bruises cover her arms and face, made from our attack on the lower towns. We fished her and many others from the wreckage, and she was one of the people to walk away with minimal injuries.

"Good." I say. I take a step forward, my polished boots clicking against the sleek wood of the balcony. She stares at the floor, but at my advance she stumbles backward a step.

I take another step so I'm back inside my room and she takes two backwards. I smirk, amused at her fear.

Then, I promptly make my way towards the door of what used to be Queen Sage's chambers. How fitting it was that I took this room as my own.

Oh, Sage. That naive, heartbroken girl. Even after a whole six years she was still devastated over the loss of her poor Lance Griffin. At first I wasn't a fan of the idea my father proposed: to win her favor and get close to her. I didn't like the idea of exploiting a vulnerable woman. But my cruel father didn't care for my opinion, and sent me anyway. Though once I stepped into the mighty Queen's presence, I understood. The strength was just a facade. Underneath that fake toughness is a crumbling interior. It was only a matter of time.

The plan was simple: make myself look as much like her Lance as possible, make her let her guard down, then poison her. Simple, straight forward. And I'll be honest, I didn't expect her to find out about my fake attributes at all, but I messed up. When I walked into this very room to see her curled up in a ball, struggling to breath as her mind got lost in memories, it touched something in me. I was brought back to all the nights I spent as a kid crying myself to sleep, to all the days I've done the exact same thing as her, and been utterly alone. I just couldn't leave her like that.

So, I threw caution to the wind and forgot about my contacts, and the fact that I hadn't re-dyed my hair that morning. It was careless, but a part of me that is rarely used awoke within the darkest corners of my heart and I couldn't ignore it. I guess it's something like empathy or humanity, but I digress.

If I'm being completely honest, some part of me liked Sage. Perhaps if we had met in another life, at a different time, we could have gotten along. Been friends. Maybe more than friends. But it was impossible. As much as my growing respect and liking for her influenced me, my father's threats and teaching influenced me more. A small part of me broke when I saw her drink that poisoned wine, but a bigger part of me, a stronger, louder part of me cheered and rejoiced. For I had succeeded, and I would finally make my father proud.

It's truly a shame. She seemed to be a great leader and a potentially powerful ally. But that can never be. I imagine she's already dead, or at the brink of it at least. The only obstacle now is that group of surviving citizens and the Prince. Once he's wiped out, our victory will be secured and this kingdom and mine will combine under my father's power. Until of course I kill him and take control, obviously.

"Your majesty?" The girl tentatively asks. I turn to look at her, realizing I had stopped at the door handle. Her eyes are fixed to her feet, her hair cascading down in front of her face.

"Silly me. I must get going." I pause. "What was your name again?"

"U-um its Catherly, your highness." She says softly, almost inaudible.

"Speak up, girl." My voice turns stern and slightly louder. I hate mumbling.

"It's Catherly sire." She forces out, taking a step forward and risking a glance up at me.

"Catherly. Hmm…beautiful name for a beautiful girl." I smirk as she tries to hide the blush creeping up her neck. "You're a good servant. The problem is, I can't trust you. You used to work for the former Queen Sage. You could be a spy for all I know." I say with a shrug. I can feel terror emit from her in waves.

"I-I can assure you I am not, your gra-"

"Yes, yes, you say that, Catherly, but how can I be sure? I can only see but one course of action." I clasp my hands behind my back.

"S-sire I-"

"I'm sorry, but you're going to go in the dungeons for a while." Her head shoots up as she looks at me with wide eyes. "And once we find your family, I assume you have one, yes? They'll be held there to give you a reminder of what's at stake should you betray me, once you go back to work." Desperation creeps up her face as tears well up in her eyes.

"Your majesty please! What have I done? Please, whatever it is, punish me, leave my family out of it, I beg of you!" She falls to her knees, groveling at my feet. I look down at her with a numbness that's only penetrated by dull sorrow that I try to push back, back into the box I had locked all such emotions in a long time ago. It was the only way to survive.

"It's nothing personal, Catherly. I just have to make an example of some people to demonstrate my power, and you happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Guards!" I call, hearing the door open behind me. "Take her to the dungeons. You know what to do after that." The black armored knights stalk toward the girl.

"Please! Please! Mercy! I beg of you! Mercy!" She's sobbing now, clawing at my pants. She knows what's going to happen. She's heard the stories. And that's exactly what I want. I want everyone to know what happens when you defile me.

The men grab her roughly and drag her out of my room. As they move down the hallway her screams of pleading desperation echo across the castle.

I clear my throat, bending down to fix my perfectly pressed trousers. I stand back up and pull down my jacket, straighten my ribbons and decorations, then press down my collar. I take a deep breath, briefly closing my eyes. I rub a hand through my slicked back golden locks. A few strands break free and fall against my forehead. I open my eyes and glance around the room. Composing myself, I puff my chest out and turn, opening the door with a flourish. I stride down the hallway, my boots clicking against the polished flooring.

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"The lower town has been fully extinguished, and all the rubble has finally settled. As for the people trapped in the wreckage we're still working on searching the bigger buildings…" The monotonous speech goes on and on. I try to pay attention but my mind keeps wandering. Why didn't anyone tell me being King would be this boring? My head lolls to the side as I try to keep my attention on the old man speaking.

"...In other words, we have zero facilities open for the extraction of the peasants trapped in more explicit circumstances, whether or not they still have a chance of survival." I repress the urge to groan. It's like being back in school, only I'm supposed to be making the test after the lesson instead of taking one.

"...since your father, having no motives to be of any help, is currently tasking you with making any decisions regarding that of which you currently control…"

My father…the king of Cald Feri. Both my mentor and idle, and my worst nightmare. The man who could be the best father on the planet and switch into a demon within a split second. In my childhood I learned to say only the right things, and to steer clear of him as much as I could. But at the same time I longed for his approval. My entire life I've been yearning for him to be proud to call me his son. But no matter what I did he always found fault. I was never punished, I was never beaten, I was never yelled at or grounded. When I messed up it was others that took the fall. That's the very reason my village no longer stands. I remember that day clearly. It was the day I changed forever, the day I locked my emotions in a box, threw away the key and forgot about it. It was the day the last of my humanity was forcefully drained from me.

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"So you're telling me…you didn't complete your mission?" His voice is dangerously calm, his blue eyes that mirror mine appear tranquill, but I know underneath a fire is seething. He grips the chair, his makeshift throne, that had been set up in the old storage shed we had made base in. The truth is, he had been planning to create his own country years before the war, starting mere months after Queen Sage took the throne. Only one year into his campaign, he already had hundreds backing him, worshiping him as their king before he even had a kingdom to control.

"F-father I-" I stammer, fear clutching my heart. I should have done more, I should have tried harder.

"Ivar, you are no longer a boy, you are a man!" His voice grows louder but is still calm and collected. Or at least it sounds that way on the outside. His voice echoes through the otherwise dark and empty room. "You will give me a straight answer." His voice is quieter, but menace drips slowly into his words. I gulp down the lump in my throat.

"Y-yeah I… yes. Yes, Father. I failed you." I bow my head respectfully, but in truth I'm scared to meet his eyes.

"You had one job. One task. Straightforward and concise. A task you have completed dozens of times before yet you still fail me. Why?" He leans forward and squints his eyes down at me. I shuffle my feet, uncomfortable under his gaze. My coming of age ceremony was just last night. Then he had been happy, carefree, overjoyed at the fact his son was turning 18. But now he has turned into my nightmare. The monster under my bed. And if I'm not careful he'll grab my ankle and pull me under.

"I guess I just…I didn't have the resources…my men didnt…I didnt… father they were children." My voice breaks on the last word. I clench my jaw and fight back tears, memories of this morning's events flooding back to me.

"Does it matter? Since when have I taught you to think of age? They were your targets, were they not?" He says, tilting his head at me. I screw my eyes shut for a moment, pushing back the awful sounds of screaming before opening them to answer.

"Yes, my lord. They were my targets." My voice breaks again.

"Then why didn't you eliminate them?" It's one simple question. A six word sentence with a simple answer. Yet I still find it difficult to comprehend.

"I- I just couldn't- "

"You couldn't what? You couldn't cut their heads off? Then stab them through the heart. You couldn't stab them? Then shoot them with a torrent of arrows. You can't shoot them? Then beat them over the head. You couldn't beat them? Throw them in the river. 'I couldn't' is not. Good enough." He talks through clenched teeth. A single tear escapes my eye.

"They were so innocent. So young. They had a life to live. I didn't want to take that away…" my voice wobbles as the memory of their faces come back, each one plastered against the insides of my eyelids.

"I did not train you to think about a target's future. I trained you to find it, and eliminate it. No questions asked."

"Yes, father." I stare at my shined boots, refusing to meet my father's eyes. An eerie silence falls between us.

"I don't need to tell you that this calls for consequences. A punishment. And it won't be a light one." He leans backwards, menace falling from his voice and being replaced by an even more dangerous tone.

"Yes father." I say, defeated. My shoulders fall as I await the sentence.

"You know, I'm going to need a palace once I create my own kingdom. A mighty place that will make people second guess ever crossing us. Don't you think so?" My eyes widen as I start to put together his plan.

"Your birth town is in a lovely position. A nice breeze from the sea, crops from the plains and game from the forest." Panic replaces the fear that once gripped my heart. "Guards!"

"Father, please!"

"Make plans to begin construction on my palace. Make sure the area is flat."

"Father, I beg you! Please, my lord!" Tears flood my eyes as I look back and forth from him to the guard.

"Set fire to Ivar's birth town. That should do the trick. Don't worry about evacuating, I wouldn't want to cause a ruckus for the people." The guard nods and makes his way out of the room.

"My lord! Please! Don't do this!" My knees give out and I drop to the floor, tears now streaming out of my eyes freely. I know what this means. No one will survive. Not the children, or the mothers, or the elderly, or my friends I grew up with. They'll all be dead by morning.

"Father, I beg of you! Please have mercy!"

"You should know by now that mercy is for the weak. Maybe this will teach you a lesson in obedience. Guards! Take him to his chambers and make sure he stays there." Men immediately grab at me, pulling me back from him.

"No! Please! Punish me! Please! Punish ME! I beg you! NO!" The last thing I see is my father's satisfied smirk before the doors slam shut.

Feelings cause pain. Sympathy causes suffering. Mercy causes death. That's what I learned today. All my life my father had been picking at my moral compass, chipping away at it with every word, every punishment and every task. It was nothing but a small morsel each time, but if a bird pecks at a mountain of diamonds for long enough, it'll eventually be reduced to nothing. As long as that bird has patience. And that's exactly what my father has plenty of.

Now, as I listen to the blood curdling screams drifting through my open window, the bird's beak comes down on what remains of that mountain, and the final rock is reduced to dust.

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"My lord? King Ivar?" I jerk back to the present to see the entire court staring at me. I look around, confused. Then, with a start, I realize a tear is making its way down my cheek. I quickly wipe it, looking at my damp fingers in disbelief. Had I really shed a tear at such a memory? I sniff, clearing my throat before repositioning myself, gripping my throne.

They're gone, there's nothing you can do for them. It's your fault they're dead. So the only thing you can do is to not mess up like that again.

"Well, where were we?"

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Word count: 2,812

Again, sorry for the long break. But I really needed it haha. But thank you for your patience.

Anyway, how did we like it? It's a bit of a different chapter this week. Thoughts on Ivar? On his past? I love to hear it!

Cya next week!

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