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5 | Purge

2410 Tull 31, Kindreth

Sunlight almost blinded Nyxis when he emerged into the courtyard in the middle of the Palace. The tall spires, bridges, and walls around him did nothing to block the day's rage. He had been in the middle of a lesson about managing a textile company in the Commons when a servant came and relayed the message.

The King needed him to come to the courtyard.

Which confused Nyxis since that courtyard was never used for anything apart from conducting illicit trades the Palace preferred no one to know about. What trade would the King want Nyxis to see now? Wasn't letting him deal with the hybrid project enough?

Nyxis got his answer as soon as his soles left the marble paths leading out of the roofed corridor of the Palace and scratched against the rough floor of the courtyard. The air was thick and humid—typical day in Cardina—but today, it carried a different heaviness in it.

What was supposed to happen today? Was he going to be drafted in the Civil Knights? Adresin would blow his hea doff his shoulders if that's the case. His brother had been itching to serve in the infantry since he was two.

The King stood near the grated gate situated on each of the four cardinal directions of the courtyard. According to Nyxis's knowledge about how this castle worked, these gates either led to the kitchens, the servants' shops, the dungeon, or the Civil Knight's shacks. Which one of those should he expect to see today?

There was no use loitering. Nyxis had to get this done the fastest. He had a meeting with Scholar Cevera later in the afternoon. They were going to learn about carnivorous plants and their medicinal applications. Exciting stuff. Nyxis had yet to see a plant who could attack a person as much as a person could attack it.

He stopped a few steps away from his father. Apart from them, at least a dozen Civil Knights in armor cast in gold stood in a rigid stance accompanied them in the courtyard. Was it the Civil Knights drafting, then? He squinted and glimpsed of a few familiar faces of Generals underneath the shadows cast by their visors. This was serious, then.

"What took you so long?" the King snapped, hands clasped behind him. He didn't even turn around to face Nyxis. "Do you want to bake us in the sun?"

Nyxis bit back his reply. It wasn't going to help anyone. Instead, he swallowed all his pride and ducked his head. "Please forgive me," he said. "It was a long walk from the archives."

"As expected," the King answered. "You are burying your nose into things that do not matter."

Nyxis didn't speak. Couldn't, anyway. His father viewed all scholarly work to be a waste time and "only for bumbling fools who wants to become even more bumbling fools.". Nyxis couldn't blame him, though. The King had the brain of a flower-child. So much so it's amazing the previous king even entrusted power to him of all people.

And yet, his father expects his sons to be exceptional. Talk about hypocrisy.

"Let me show you what really is expected of a monarch," the King said in a low tone. Nyxis almost didn't catch it. Then, in a much louder voice, "Bring in the prisoners!"

Gears rumbled and metal clinked as all four gates were simulateously raised. Grunts erupted from the Civil Knights manning the cranks to the right of each gate as they retracted the gates on their own. Nyxis knitted his eyebrows, urging his eyes to look past the murky shadows each gate sported. He spotted silhouettes of gaunt faces, hunched backs, and dark eyes. What...

Then, a dozen people stepped from the shadows, the sunlight almost causing their skin to boil upon contact. How much time had they spent in the darkness? Nyxis watched as a dozen more piled into the courtyard, followed by another dozen. Then, another. Another.

Soon, there were hundreds of people joining them in the courtyard. Newly-arrived Civil Knights stood behind each batches of twelve, hefting a spear, a sword, or a whip. Some even have pistols known to eject grappling hooks that sink into flesh when fired. Nyxis felt his blood drain from his face. What's going to happen?

He turned to his father who watched the whole ordeal with not a twitch in his stern expression. All around them, people dressed in rumpled and torn tunics were being forced to kneel on the scratchy floor. Wouldn't that hurt their knees? What have they done wrong?

"Walk among them, son," the King said. "Let them see us before they meet their end."

Nyxis didn't want to but his father had already started down the middle of the crowd. Being left standing at the edge like an idiot didn't sound like a good idea, either. So, he tore after the King.

The Civil Knights lined the prisoners so that there were three queues on either side of Nyxis. As he walked, he saw men and women of different ages. Children as young as five joined their parents in the queue. Some huddled against each other, shaking in visible fear. Others simply bowed their heads in defeat. However, Nyxis didn't fail to notice a few balled fists and clenched jaws. There was still anger to go around. What's stopping them from acting on it?

"Father, what did they do?" Nyxis dared asking.

The King stopped walking and faced him. The sun was behind him, making his silhouette sharper and the scar lining his face from a temple to the opposite cheek a little brighter. "They dared to exist in our land, filthy half-bloods" he said. "Took our resources, professions, and possessions which were meant for humans. So I had them removed. I had them purged."

A sickened feeling blossomed in Nyxis's gut. Purges. Why was it legal now? The last thing he heard of it...

Oh, no.

Something Scholar Cevera said when they last met flashed in his head. The High Queen legalized half-blood purges. She had rsisted it for so long. I do not know what pushed her to sign the decree.

That gave Cardina free rein to adopt the practice in its borders. And now...

"Not only that," the King stepped closer to Nyxis as if he was going to whisper a secret. "I hear we have quite a catch today. A fairy."

As if on cue, a hand grasped Nyxis's ankle. His heart leaped to his throat as he looked down to find a lithe woman with dust smeared on her pale skin and on her ethereal blond hair. "Please let me go," she begged. Tears brimmed in her bloodshot, light blue eyes. "I have children at home. I have to get back to them."

Nyxis attempted to shake her off his leg but her grip was like steel. "Please," she said. He drew his leg back with a certain force, expecting the woman to finally let go. Instead, she held on and ended up sprawling forward. Her hair gave way to the side of her face. A pointed ear jutted from her face.

A strangled gasp tore off Nyxis's chest. A fairy. Unwashed fear gripped his limbs, making him shake his leg harder to dislodge the grip on his foot. Finally, the Civil Knight behind the woman lashed out with the butt of his spear, striking her between the shoulder blades. The impact brought about a certain snap, which only sickened Nyxis further. He stumbled off the line and turned to his father.

"Stop it," he hissed. Where did he even get tat notion? "This is not right."

Before he could react, his cheek flared in burning pain. His father's hand whipped in the air faster than his eyes could follow, sending him careening backwards and landing on the ground. "Weak," he heard his father hiss. Then, the King shouted, "Proceed with the execution!"

"No!" The cry tore off Nyxis just as the swish of blades resounded in the air. He was barely off the floor when something slick and hot splashed to his face, his arms, and his legs. His fingers came across puddles of...

Blood.

Somewhere at his feet, the head of the woman who grabbed his ankle rolled away from her neck as her body flopped to the ground. No. This wasn't happening. A dream. This was a dream. Not real.

But it was.

The smell of blood turned the morning air in the courtyard heavier and muskier. The glint of the sun being reflected from the drawn blades was brighter. It was blinding, almost. It's real. It's...

Nyxis turned to his father who stood with a passive expression on his face. The King watched the thick puddles of blood paint the courtyard floor with nothing but a slight frown. He turned to Nyxis. "Do you understand now, son?" he asked quietly. "What monarchs have to do to protect their people and their territory? This is one of them."

Nyxis's chest heaved. He felt like throwing up but nothing was climbing up his throat. The only thing that stood out to him was the scar running down his father's face. The sun burned it. Emphasized it. Told Nyxis it's his fate to be a part of this madness. It was the scar. Always had been.

If this was what's going to be required of him, then he didn't want it. This life wasn't for him. It would never be. If there were other things he could be, things he could do with the time he had been given, it wasn't this.

It would never be this.

All Nyxis saw as he dragged himself up was the hard gaze of his father and the scar lining one of his eyes. Then, Nyxis turned and ran out of the courtyard as fast as his shaking legs could take him.

As he staggered back to his rooms, he had decided, then. Nyxis Helgase would never be a royal. He wouldn't take a life and instead do his best to save it. He would never become his father.

Nyxis wouldn't let himself have a scar like him.

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