Canan
17-08-2004, 00:29
OOC: This is a lot of writing for me, so I am going to wait to write what happens next so I don’t get carpal tunnel. Also I decided on doing a first person instead of the usual third person narrative, so please tell me what you think of this perspective. Oh and this is a very closed Rp, I am the only one who should be posting in it, but I will allow tags.
IC: I was once the next in line to the throne of Canan, at least until the communist bastards killed my family and destroyed my entire life. I am, well I was, the Crown Prince of Canan, Garret Kellen III.
In the days before the communists destroyed my entire family, I was an average child, who by birth right, happened to be next in line to become King. However, my entire life was spent learning how to conduct the business of running a nation. I very seldom had any time to play with my peers, or to run around in the large forest that lay behind the palace. But my father always told me that once he passed on to the next world, that I would have plenty of time to do whatever it was I wanted. I loved my father. Even though he was the King, he always found the time to spend with me and my sister. My mother had died while giving birth to my sister when I was four years old so I do not remember her much, except for what father used to tell me. But all of the happy times I was used to ended abruptly the day after my thirteenth birthday.
I was sleeping when the rebels began to storm the palace. I was awoken by the sounds of gunshots. So I hopped out of my bed and saw hundreds of peasants, storming the palace. I looked towards the front entrance and saw Jeremy, the father of my one friend, firing into the crowd, but the few guards were no match for the rabid beasts, and they kept charging forward. I saw Jeremy unsheathe a massive long sword and charged into the crowd, swinging wildly, cutting down at least seven people before the crows over took him and beat him to death. I ran to my door and as I opened it several guards ran by, with Jeremy’s son, Gabriel, running right behind them. “Gabriel,” I yelled out to him, stopping him in his tracks, “What is happening?”
“The peasants are revolting, they have breached the front gate, and have begun to enter the house,” Gabriel explained to me. His eyes were blood shot, and I wondered if he already knew about his father.
“Gabriel, your father…” I began but before I could finish he interrupted me.
“I know, he is gone, but we must get you out of here, it is your father’s wishes.”
“But what of Michelle?” The fear was evident in my voice, “Has she already gone?”
Gabriel looked at me, his ice blue eyes staring into mine, “I am sorry Garret,” he said, lowering his head. At that moment I wanted to fall to my knees and cry, but instead my heart filled with rage. At that moment I wanted to find the people who had taken my sister from me and rip out their hearts. “Garret, we must go now or you will not live. Now please follow me.”
With that Gabriel took my hand and led me down the halls, and into a room which I had never seen before. “What is this place?” I asked while Gabriel rolled up a small rug which lay on the floor.
“It is a secret room, but we must not waste time, you must survive Garret.” He looked at me and reached into his cloak and pulled out a brilliant looking long sword. The hilt was covered in emeralds and diamonds, and the blade looked as if it could cut through solid steel. “Here, your father wanted me to give this to you. This is the sword that your Great Grandfather Garret Kellen I used to kill one thousand wild men from Jericho Isle.” Gabriel handed me the sword which I took in both hands and studied it. It was remarkably light for its size and as I held it I could feel a strange feeling running through my body.
“Come Garret, I will lead you to safety, but you must stay close.” Gabriel said while motioning me to enter a small hole which he had uncovered. I obeyed him and jumped into the dark labyrinth that was the secret tunnels that ran under the entire city. I heard Gabriel land behind me, and suddenly the room was filled with light, as he lit a lantern with a match. He quickly began running down the tunnels, turning every which way until we reached an opening. “Here, I will go first to make sure the coast is clear, then you come out, alright?” Gabriel said. I envied the fearless look in his eyes, for I had never been as scared as I was before that point. I nodded my head in agreement and Gabriel opened a small sewer grate, and stepped out into the night. After a couple seconds he motioned for me to come out. As I stepped out of the tunnels I turned to see the palace, filled with the mob of peasants. They were chanting something and one man was carrying something on a stick. I looked harder and saw that it was my father’s head. At that moment the urge to kill them all ran through my veins and I screamed the unholy scream of the devil, and began running towards the crowd. The few peasants who heard my screams saw me and motioned towards me. Soon the rest of the crowd was rushing towards me, hell bent of ripping my head from my shoulders and putting it on a stick with my father’s.
Gabriel walked in front of me, his sword raised, ready to strike the first person who came within range. “Run,” he said. I hesitated, not wanting to let my friend die at the hands of these beasts. He turned his head to look at me and yelled, “Run!” The forcefulness in his voice startled me and without thinking, I began to run towards the outskirts of the city, leaving my friend alone, leaving my friend to die at the hands of monsters.
I did not stop running until I was out of the city and into the countryside. I decided against walking along the road, as I was sure that there would be a bounty on my head, so instead I walked through the thick forests that cluttered the land. I walked for nearly two days, only stopping for an hour or two to rest, and to drink out of one of the brooks that run through the woods. I walked until I came to a small village, deep in the woods. Hungry and exhausted I entered the village, the few people who lived there staring at me as I walk through the dirt street that ran down the middle of the village. Half way through the town I stumbled, and landed in the dirt. I tried to get up, but my arms and legs would not move. I decided that I would just lay where I was and allow the villagers to do as they wish to me. Sure that I was going to die in the middle of this village of no more than twenty people, I close my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
When I woke, I was inside on of the small houses. I sat upright and looked around the room I was in. It was very small with no windows, but there was a large picture of the King, my father. Suddenly I remember why I was here and reached for my sword, but it was not in the room with me. Suddenly the door opened and in stepped an older man, about the age of my father, except much heavier and had a large unkempt beard.
“Ah, I see the young Prince has decided to wake up,” the man said with a small chuckle.
“Where am I,” I asked, “And who are you?”
“Well Prince Garret, you are in the village of Yorin, and I am Joseph Ganter,” the man said, still smiling. “Why, may I ask, have you come to Yorin, my Prince?”
“Because the king has been killed,” I reply as tears begin to fill my eyes, and rage begins to fill my heart. “There has been a rebellion by the peasants of the country, and they have taken everything from me, my friends, my teachers, even my family.”
Joseph’s face smile fades from his face and his voice is much more serious as he begins to speak again. “If what you say is true, my Prince, then you are not safe here either.” Joseph stared at the picture of my father for several minutes before continuing. “There is only one place that is safe for you, but I would have to take you there.”
I nodded my head to show him I understood and I suddenly thought of my sword. “When I entered your village, I was carrying a sword with me. Where is it?”
The smile returned to Joseph’s face and he left the room and came back with the sword. “I never thought I would have seen this sword, let alone hold it,” he said as he handed me the sword, hilt first. “Do you know the story of this sword Prince Garret?”
I shook my head no, and his smile grew a bigger as he sat on a small stool and began to recount the story of my sword to me.
“In the days when the entire country was covered in thick woods, there were five tribes who claimed portions of the land as their own. One tribe, the Kellen tribe, was led by your Great Grandfather. One day he decided that he would unite all the tribes in the country to form one giant tribe, in which he would rule. However, he did not have a sword to call his own, and he did not really know how to use one very well. The elders of the tribe sent your Grandfather on a quest to find the sorcerer of the Black Mountains. Your grandfather eventually found the sorcerer, but when he found him the sorcerer would not teach your grandfather how to wield a sword. However, he did give him the sword that you are holding now, and told him that once he learned to harness the true powers of the sword, that there would be no enemy that he could not defeat. From there your grandfather returned to his tribe, and began his wars on the other four tribes of Canan. Your grandfather learned to use this sword quite well, but he would still be defeated in battle, but eventually he had united all the tribes of Canan. However he was not satisfied with his accomplishments, so he built ships and sailed across the sea to Jericho Isle where he fought and defeated the Jerichoans. While on Jericho he learned of another island, not far from Jericho of Canan, and he decided that he would conquer that island as well. However during his first battle, the tribes of the island, which is now Mays Isle, crushed your grandfather’s forces. Before he could return to his ships though, a storm destroyed every ship your grandfather had. So your grandfather and the remaining one hundred soldiers decided that they would build a small settlement until they could build more ships. The locals however had other ideas and attacked the settlement with over four thousand warriors. Your grandfather and his men stood outside their small settlement and as the warriors charged, legend has it that your grandfather raised the sword so that it was parallel to his body and suddenly the skies darkened and the earth itself opened up and swallowed over two thousand of the warriors. Seeing the power that came from the sword, the warriors knelt on the spot and laid down their weapons and pledged allegiance to your grandfather.”
“That story is all made up, my father told me so,” I said after he finished his story.
“Oh really?” Joseph replied, “You have never felt a surge of energy when you hold the sword?”
“Well, yes,” I answered. “When my friend Gabriel gave me the sword for the first time I felt strange. It was as if electricity were being pumped through my veins. But how did you?”
“Ah, do you remember when I said there was only one place you would be safe? Well, that one place is with me, young Prince. Fore I am the same man who gave your great grandfather the sword.” Joseph said the pride evident on his face.
“You,” I said, “that would make you ever one hundred years old.”
“Actually, one hundred twenty-two,” Joseph replied.
Still not believing him I asked another question. “If you are the sorcerer, as you say you are, then you would not mind showing me some of your magic would you?”
Joseph chuckled a little and stood up and said, “If it is magic you want, then magic you will get. But I warn you young Prince, my magiks are very powerful.”
He began chanting in a language that I had never heard of before, and his eyes began to turn a light grey color. Suddenly the room filled with small bolts of lighting, and a strong gust of wind flew through the room, sending the sheets on the bed I was lying in into the air. Then just as suddenly as it started it ended, and Joseph sat back down on his chair, his face beaming with pride.
“Well, was that enough magic for you Garret?” He asked.
“Um, yes, that was amazing.” The look on my face must have been amusing because he began to laugh.
“Prince Garret, would you like to learn how to use that sword?” Joseph asked. I quickly nodded yes and he continued, “Well then you must go out and teach yourself. Only then will you learn how the sword will respond to you.”
“I understand,” I replied and I began getting out of the bed. I thanked Joseph for his help and walked back out in the middle of the town, the moon barely shining through the canopy of the forest. I walked into the forest, not knowing where I would go but at the same time, knowing that once I got to where I was going, I would know it. I walked for almost two hours before I found a small open field. I decided that this was the place I would train and began swing the sword like I had been taught in my lessons in the palace.
I continued training myself, only stopping to eat, and rest. My reflexes began to quicken and I noticed that although I had not been running much, I could run much faster that I used to. And now after five years of training myself, I have finally mastered the sword and have found my way back in the capital of Canan, standing in the dark in a long trench coat.
I look up at the sky and see that it will begin to rain soon. The wind begins to pick up and in a blur I dart across the street and hop the gate to the Presidential Palace. I notice a small gate house near the gate and I quietly walk behind it, and knock on the door. The guard walks out of the small shack and is treated with the cold steel of my blade slicing through his neck. A look of shock frozen on the guards face, he slowly crumbles to the ground, as his head falls away from his body. Quickly I dart from behind trees until I am at the front entrance. Surprisingly there are no guards stationed there, but I do not plan on using the front door. A bolt of lightning dances across the sky and almost as if that single bolt tore a hole into the heavens, the rain began to fall from the sky. I quickly find my way to the small power station that runs the Palace and begin slicing through the boxes, sending sparks into the air. Now that the lights are off, I notice that one window on the second floor has a very large balcony overlooking a large garden. Realizing that this must be the president’s bedroom, I make my way towards the window and jump, barely grabbing a ledge on the bottom of the balcony. Carefully I swing myself up onto the balcony where I see him. Inside his bed, sleeping. The rage I felt when I was thirteen returns as I remember what these people did to gain power. I kick open the doors to the balcony, shattering the glass and startling the president out of his sleep. A guard rushes in and I quickly unsheathe my sword and make two quick slices. The guard’s eyes widen as he realizes what has happened, but he has no time to make a sound as he begins to fall into four pieces, his entrails spilling onto the floor. I slowly make my way to the President and raise my sword, ready to strike down this infidel and to take my place as the ruler of Canan. But a quick flash of lightning stops me from doing anything at all. “He’s a woman,” I think to myself. I lower my sword and get closer so I can see her face. “Who are you,” I ask her.
“I…I am P-P-President Sarah Hartley,” she replies.
Hearing the word “President” I take a step back and think of what I am going to do next. I try to think back to what my father would do, but all I can remember is what I saw on the night I saw my father’s head being carried on a stick. Then I remembered my sister. “Michelle,” I said to myself.
“WH-What did you just say?” Sarah asked.
“Michelle,” it was my younger sister’s name before she was killed by the bastards who killed my father,” I replied, the hatred evident in my voice.
“Y-You’re Garret,” she stammered. “Garret, it is me Sarah, Michelle’s friend.”
“Sarah?” I vaguely remembered my sister having a friend named Sarah, “But why would you do this to Michelle? She was your friend, and you have her killed just so you could rise to power.” I raise my sword again, ready to slice this treacherous wench in two.
“Garret you must understand, I didn’t kill Michelle. I wasn’t involved in the riots. I was elected last year as president. You have to believe me.” She was crying now and was on the edge of her bed.
The rage filling my heart, I turn around and face Sarah. “Lies,” I yell, “all lies. And now, you will pay for your treachery.” I make slicing motion at Sarah’s neck, and watch as her head pops off of her shoulders and falls to the ground.
IC: I was once the next in line to the throne of Canan, at least until the communist bastards killed my family and destroyed my entire life. I am, well I was, the Crown Prince of Canan, Garret Kellen III.
In the days before the communists destroyed my entire family, I was an average child, who by birth right, happened to be next in line to become King. However, my entire life was spent learning how to conduct the business of running a nation. I very seldom had any time to play with my peers, or to run around in the large forest that lay behind the palace. But my father always told me that once he passed on to the next world, that I would have plenty of time to do whatever it was I wanted. I loved my father. Even though he was the King, he always found the time to spend with me and my sister. My mother had died while giving birth to my sister when I was four years old so I do not remember her much, except for what father used to tell me. But all of the happy times I was used to ended abruptly the day after my thirteenth birthday.
I was sleeping when the rebels began to storm the palace. I was awoken by the sounds of gunshots. So I hopped out of my bed and saw hundreds of peasants, storming the palace. I looked towards the front entrance and saw Jeremy, the father of my one friend, firing into the crowd, but the few guards were no match for the rabid beasts, and they kept charging forward. I saw Jeremy unsheathe a massive long sword and charged into the crowd, swinging wildly, cutting down at least seven people before the crows over took him and beat him to death. I ran to my door and as I opened it several guards ran by, with Jeremy’s son, Gabriel, running right behind them. “Gabriel,” I yelled out to him, stopping him in his tracks, “What is happening?”
“The peasants are revolting, they have breached the front gate, and have begun to enter the house,” Gabriel explained to me. His eyes were blood shot, and I wondered if he already knew about his father.
“Gabriel, your father…” I began but before I could finish he interrupted me.
“I know, he is gone, but we must get you out of here, it is your father’s wishes.”
“But what of Michelle?” The fear was evident in my voice, “Has she already gone?”
Gabriel looked at me, his ice blue eyes staring into mine, “I am sorry Garret,” he said, lowering his head. At that moment I wanted to fall to my knees and cry, but instead my heart filled with rage. At that moment I wanted to find the people who had taken my sister from me and rip out their hearts. “Garret, we must go now or you will not live. Now please follow me.”
With that Gabriel took my hand and led me down the halls, and into a room which I had never seen before. “What is this place?” I asked while Gabriel rolled up a small rug which lay on the floor.
“It is a secret room, but we must not waste time, you must survive Garret.” He looked at me and reached into his cloak and pulled out a brilliant looking long sword. The hilt was covered in emeralds and diamonds, and the blade looked as if it could cut through solid steel. “Here, your father wanted me to give this to you. This is the sword that your Great Grandfather Garret Kellen I used to kill one thousand wild men from Jericho Isle.” Gabriel handed me the sword which I took in both hands and studied it. It was remarkably light for its size and as I held it I could feel a strange feeling running through my body.
“Come Garret, I will lead you to safety, but you must stay close.” Gabriel said while motioning me to enter a small hole which he had uncovered. I obeyed him and jumped into the dark labyrinth that was the secret tunnels that ran under the entire city. I heard Gabriel land behind me, and suddenly the room was filled with light, as he lit a lantern with a match. He quickly began running down the tunnels, turning every which way until we reached an opening. “Here, I will go first to make sure the coast is clear, then you come out, alright?” Gabriel said. I envied the fearless look in his eyes, for I had never been as scared as I was before that point. I nodded my head in agreement and Gabriel opened a small sewer grate, and stepped out into the night. After a couple seconds he motioned for me to come out. As I stepped out of the tunnels I turned to see the palace, filled with the mob of peasants. They were chanting something and one man was carrying something on a stick. I looked harder and saw that it was my father’s head. At that moment the urge to kill them all ran through my veins and I screamed the unholy scream of the devil, and began running towards the crowd. The few peasants who heard my screams saw me and motioned towards me. Soon the rest of the crowd was rushing towards me, hell bent of ripping my head from my shoulders and putting it on a stick with my father’s.
Gabriel walked in front of me, his sword raised, ready to strike the first person who came within range. “Run,” he said. I hesitated, not wanting to let my friend die at the hands of these beasts. He turned his head to look at me and yelled, “Run!” The forcefulness in his voice startled me and without thinking, I began to run towards the outskirts of the city, leaving my friend alone, leaving my friend to die at the hands of monsters.
I did not stop running until I was out of the city and into the countryside. I decided against walking along the road, as I was sure that there would be a bounty on my head, so instead I walked through the thick forests that cluttered the land. I walked for nearly two days, only stopping for an hour or two to rest, and to drink out of one of the brooks that run through the woods. I walked until I came to a small village, deep in the woods. Hungry and exhausted I entered the village, the few people who lived there staring at me as I walk through the dirt street that ran down the middle of the village. Half way through the town I stumbled, and landed in the dirt. I tried to get up, but my arms and legs would not move. I decided that I would just lay where I was and allow the villagers to do as they wish to me. Sure that I was going to die in the middle of this village of no more than twenty people, I close my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
When I woke, I was inside on of the small houses. I sat upright and looked around the room I was in. It was very small with no windows, but there was a large picture of the King, my father. Suddenly I remember why I was here and reached for my sword, but it was not in the room with me. Suddenly the door opened and in stepped an older man, about the age of my father, except much heavier and had a large unkempt beard.
“Ah, I see the young Prince has decided to wake up,” the man said with a small chuckle.
“Where am I,” I asked, “And who are you?”
“Well Prince Garret, you are in the village of Yorin, and I am Joseph Ganter,” the man said, still smiling. “Why, may I ask, have you come to Yorin, my Prince?”
“Because the king has been killed,” I reply as tears begin to fill my eyes, and rage begins to fill my heart. “There has been a rebellion by the peasants of the country, and they have taken everything from me, my friends, my teachers, even my family.”
Joseph’s face smile fades from his face and his voice is much more serious as he begins to speak again. “If what you say is true, my Prince, then you are not safe here either.” Joseph stared at the picture of my father for several minutes before continuing. “There is only one place that is safe for you, but I would have to take you there.”
I nodded my head to show him I understood and I suddenly thought of my sword. “When I entered your village, I was carrying a sword with me. Where is it?”
The smile returned to Joseph’s face and he left the room and came back with the sword. “I never thought I would have seen this sword, let alone hold it,” he said as he handed me the sword, hilt first. “Do you know the story of this sword Prince Garret?”
I shook my head no, and his smile grew a bigger as he sat on a small stool and began to recount the story of my sword to me.
“In the days when the entire country was covered in thick woods, there were five tribes who claimed portions of the land as their own. One tribe, the Kellen tribe, was led by your Great Grandfather. One day he decided that he would unite all the tribes in the country to form one giant tribe, in which he would rule. However, he did not have a sword to call his own, and he did not really know how to use one very well. The elders of the tribe sent your Grandfather on a quest to find the sorcerer of the Black Mountains. Your grandfather eventually found the sorcerer, but when he found him the sorcerer would not teach your grandfather how to wield a sword. However, he did give him the sword that you are holding now, and told him that once he learned to harness the true powers of the sword, that there would be no enemy that he could not defeat. From there your grandfather returned to his tribe, and began his wars on the other four tribes of Canan. Your grandfather learned to use this sword quite well, but he would still be defeated in battle, but eventually he had united all the tribes of Canan. However he was not satisfied with his accomplishments, so he built ships and sailed across the sea to Jericho Isle where he fought and defeated the Jerichoans. While on Jericho he learned of another island, not far from Jericho of Canan, and he decided that he would conquer that island as well. However during his first battle, the tribes of the island, which is now Mays Isle, crushed your grandfather’s forces. Before he could return to his ships though, a storm destroyed every ship your grandfather had. So your grandfather and the remaining one hundred soldiers decided that they would build a small settlement until they could build more ships. The locals however had other ideas and attacked the settlement with over four thousand warriors. Your grandfather and his men stood outside their small settlement and as the warriors charged, legend has it that your grandfather raised the sword so that it was parallel to his body and suddenly the skies darkened and the earth itself opened up and swallowed over two thousand of the warriors. Seeing the power that came from the sword, the warriors knelt on the spot and laid down their weapons and pledged allegiance to your grandfather.”
“That story is all made up, my father told me so,” I said after he finished his story.
“Oh really?” Joseph replied, “You have never felt a surge of energy when you hold the sword?”
“Well, yes,” I answered. “When my friend Gabriel gave me the sword for the first time I felt strange. It was as if electricity were being pumped through my veins. But how did you?”
“Ah, do you remember when I said there was only one place you would be safe? Well, that one place is with me, young Prince. Fore I am the same man who gave your great grandfather the sword.” Joseph said the pride evident on his face.
“You,” I said, “that would make you ever one hundred years old.”
“Actually, one hundred twenty-two,” Joseph replied.
Still not believing him I asked another question. “If you are the sorcerer, as you say you are, then you would not mind showing me some of your magic would you?”
Joseph chuckled a little and stood up and said, “If it is magic you want, then magic you will get. But I warn you young Prince, my magiks are very powerful.”
He began chanting in a language that I had never heard of before, and his eyes began to turn a light grey color. Suddenly the room filled with small bolts of lighting, and a strong gust of wind flew through the room, sending the sheets on the bed I was lying in into the air. Then just as suddenly as it started it ended, and Joseph sat back down on his chair, his face beaming with pride.
“Well, was that enough magic for you Garret?” He asked.
“Um, yes, that was amazing.” The look on my face must have been amusing because he began to laugh.
“Prince Garret, would you like to learn how to use that sword?” Joseph asked. I quickly nodded yes and he continued, “Well then you must go out and teach yourself. Only then will you learn how the sword will respond to you.”
“I understand,” I replied and I began getting out of the bed. I thanked Joseph for his help and walked back out in the middle of the town, the moon barely shining through the canopy of the forest. I walked into the forest, not knowing where I would go but at the same time, knowing that once I got to where I was going, I would know it. I walked for almost two hours before I found a small open field. I decided that this was the place I would train and began swing the sword like I had been taught in my lessons in the palace.
I continued training myself, only stopping to eat, and rest. My reflexes began to quicken and I noticed that although I had not been running much, I could run much faster that I used to. And now after five years of training myself, I have finally mastered the sword and have found my way back in the capital of Canan, standing in the dark in a long trench coat.
I look up at the sky and see that it will begin to rain soon. The wind begins to pick up and in a blur I dart across the street and hop the gate to the Presidential Palace. I notice a small gate house near the gate and I quietly walk behind it, and knock on the door. The guard walks out of the small shack and is treated with the cold steel of my blade slicing through his neck. A look of shock frozen on the guards face, he slowly crumbles to the ground, as his head falls away from his body. Quickly I dart from behind trees until I am at the front entrance. Surprisingly there are no guards stationed there, but I do not plan on using the front door. A bolt of lightning dances across the sky and almost as if that single bolt tore a hole into the heavens, the rain began to fall from the sky. I quickly find my way to the small power station that runs the Palace and begin slicing through the boxes, sending sparks into the air. Now that the lights are off, I notice that one window on the second floor has a very large balcony overlooking a large garden. Realizing that this must be the president’s bedroom, I make my way towards the window and jump, barely grabbing a ledge on the bottom of the balcony. Carefully I swing myself up onto the balcony where I see him. Inside his bed, sleeping. The rage I felt when I was thirteen returns as I remember what these people did to gain power. I kick open the doors to the balcony, shattering the glass and startling the president out of his sleep. A guard rushes in and I quickly unsheathe my sword and make two quick slices. The guard’s eyes widen as he realizes what has happened, but he has no time to make a sound as he begins to fall into four pieces, his entrails spilling onto the floor. I slowly make my way to the President and raise my sword, ready to strike down this infidel and to take my place as the ruler of Canan. But a quick flash of lightning stops me from doing anything at all. “He’s a woman,” I think to myself. I lower my sword and get closer so I can see her face. “Who are you,” I ask her.
“I…I am P-P-President Sarah Hartley,” she replies.
Hearing the word “President” I take a step back and think of what I am going to do next. I try to think back to what my father would do, but all I can remember is what I saw on the night I saw my father’s head being carried on a stick. Then I remembered my sister. “Michelle,” I said to myself.
“WH-What did you just say?” Sarah asked.
“Michelle,” it was my younger sister’s name before she was killed by the bastards who killed my father,” I replied, the hatred evident in my voice.
“Y-You’re Garret,” she stammered. “Garret, it is me Sarah, Michelle’s friend.”
“Sarah?” I vaguely remembered my sister having a friend named Sarah, “But why would you do this to Michelle? She was your friend, and you have her killed just so you could rise to power.” I raise my sword again, ready to slice this treacherous wench in two.
“Garret you must understand, I didn’t kill Michelle. I wasn’t involved in the riots. I was elected last year as president. You have to believe me.” She was crying now and was on the edge of her bed.
The rage filling my heart, I turn around and face Sarah. “Lies,” I yell, “all lies. And now, you will pay for your treachery.” I make slicing motion at Sarah’s neck, and watch as her head pops off of her shoulders and falls to the ground.