trust me.

It happened so quickly. The man was witnessing his daughter being beaten repeatedly. A scene he was far used to after being the pirates’ prisoner for a little over a year ( or so it seemed ), he could hardly tell how much time has passed since the pirates ransacked their three kingdoms. Soon there was a shout that seemed to catch his daughter’s abuser’s attention. The pirate’s scarred face whipped up in curiosity before he exited the tent hastily. 

“Are you alright, dear?” But all he could get was a grunt in response. 

He did his best to listen in on the commotion going on outside while his daughter laid in pain. Though his hearing was strained from the many beatings he took, he managed to catch several words that stood out: king, escaped, wolf, dead. 

He was far too aware of the Zenan royals that traveled across The Unforgiving Ocean ( the black sea ) to avenge their people. Was it possible that the people of Zenan were winning this war? Would they be saved? 

As many charging footsteps ran near their tent, the man crawled close to the opening, peering outside to feed his interest. There was a lack of guards by their tent and suddenly, a sliver of hope appeared in his heart. His hands were still bound but he quickly nudged his daughter awake. 

“We have to leave now. Before they return. Hurry, darling.” 

Perhaps she was obedient or perhaps she was far too weak to even question her father but the young woman stood up anyway. His daughter leaned majority of her body on him to which he struggled with but managed to get them out of the tent. As he noticed the clear absence of pirates, he tugged his daughter towards the woods, following the roaring sound of those familiar waves.

Their pace was slow, cautious. And there was something in him that told him to turn back, go back to the tent and do not tempt death more than he already had. Though his gaze reverted to his daughter whose face was swollen from the prior abuse she endured. Seeing her in such a state fueled him to pick up the pace. Not to mention the various shouts that resonated from the camp behind them. 

They were running now, sprinting. His eyes were focused on the view ahead of them, ignoring the trees that sped passed them, his daughter’s jaded grunts, and the hurried steps following them. His vision blurred with tears of relief as he recognized the castle just a few yards in front of them. 

“We are nearly there, I promise,” he reassured his daughter, tugging her harshly as they emerged from the forest.

Though their victory was short-lived as guards of Zenan surrounded them. Swords at the ready, nothing but anger and hatred covering their features. The man raised his bounded hands in surrender, peering behind him in hopes that the pirates hadn’t followed them this far.

“Please! Kill us not!”

A guard speaks for the rest, his voice muffled from his armor. “Who are you? State your business!”

during a quiet and peaceful morning, the kingdoms were struck with surprise when they were ambushed by the pirates. after coming to realization mid-breakfast, it didn’t take long for people to spring into action. the battle began with many pirates deciding to abduct king henry montague, unbeknownst to the rest of the people in the castle. there were many injuries during this blood bath, the pirates deciding that they wouldn’t spare any as one managed to stab lady khailee fell in the leg leaving quite a large gash. as persephone silverwind was cornered by a pirate, her mother, morrigan silverwind, came to her rescue, stabbing her assailant in the neck. it seems as if the pirates meant to target many females as catalina jorgenson, princess reyna mireen, sybil beaumont, and anya cassel were all stabbed as well. many were surprised to see victorie wilde forgetting her handmaiden ways as she lay waste to many pirates serving her queen. shock was evident on the lot when the young prince adair danys took life for the first time. loyalty shines bright as prince daniel blackhart takes a blade for his friend, the kradaecan prince. and underneath a table, lord lucius mortimer can be spotted missing a leg. after sending queen viola winnell off on her dragon, queen emeline mireen reunited with an uninjured king nathaniel winnell and the kradaecan prince to which they retreated to the dragon queen’s bed chambers for safety. 

the pirate is contained with impeccably large guards nearly dragging him to the front of the castle. there is no resistance on his face, he knows he cannot fight this. not alone. but he is willing to die for his cause. he feels spit fly his way from some of the people but he keeps his head high. there are arms grabbing at him, wanting to take justice into their own hands though the guards allow no such thing. he remains brave, staring death right in the face despite being pushed to ground and forced to bow to the many kings and queens of zenan. and even though he is literally on his death bed, a smuggish grin is adorned on his lips.

with his hands bound, he smiles up at the executioner, a glint in his eyes, fear is absent from his features. 

“i am bennett, i bear no title but merely a servant to the real king.” 

there’s several gasps and whispers among the crowd. what king dare he speak of in front of their own royals? but they are quickly silenced when an advisor to kradaeca hushes them.

“we bring forth bennett on account of his crimes, to serve justice for zenan. and while he may not be ours to bring forth, we do so with a proud heart. vengeance is not ours for it is the gods’. may they have mercy on your wretched soul.”

there is a long silence among the crowd, waiting in anticipation for the much needed death. 

the sound of an abnormally large sword being unsheathed rings through the air, breaking the silence for mere seconds before it swings in a downward motion, allowing the ring to echo once more.

it isn’t until the familiar gush of flesh and blood does the crowd bring their animosity back. people are shoving, yelling, spitting on the head that is now lain before them. cursing the pirate for making his own fate, some are laughing humorlessly in disbelief that their world has come to this. but none feel sympathy for the pirate, nor will they ever.

As his second-in-command scurries off to the camp, he returns to their camp site. Most of the men have gone off to their places but a beautiful woman remains. Despite the wrinkles telling her age, she is beyond alluring. There is no crown that lays atop her head but anyone can tell by her stature that she is of status. She is nothing here, he tells himself as he circles her body. He eyes her bound hands, matching her bounded feet yet she continues to stand. She may be all women but she has the strength of a man. 

“You will not touch my children,” she spats, hatred overcoming her features. It seems she is always red with hatred.

He scoffs, still circling her. “I won’t have to.”

Though he can’t deny the admiration he feels towards the former Queen. A mother’s love is unconditional, he knows this. He knows a mother’s love can allow her to go to the ends of the earth. A mother’s love is strength. He is no fool.

Grabbing her arm harshly– though she is much used to this brutality by now– he drags her back towards his hiding place in the bushes. She wants to yell at the guards that stand idle against the castle but she knows they cannot hear her over the roaring rain. 

The Captain points at the ocean, watching as she obediently looks towards the fleet of ships. A small gasp escapes her as new boats flow into the fjord. She realizes what this is. She realizes what he is planning against the people she loves.

Though she knows voicing her opinions will do nothing to change his mind. After the many cruel things he’s done to her, she knows there is not one bit of conscientiousness in his head. No voice of reason. They are savages, barbaric people. She looks at him with disgust.

“You plan to trap them in? –You know my son has more soldiers than the men in your crew. You will not get away with this. He will find me.” 

He lets out a cackle, which soon dissolves into the thunder that booms above them. His grip on her loosens just a touch as he gazes on. “Darling, that is the point.” He nods at the boats once more as lightning strikes over the crashing waves of the black sea.

As the Queen Mother looks back once more, she is struck with horror at the newfound scene. She watches with terror in her eyes as the Dracborough flag that waves on its ship burns, the fire engulfing the remains of the boat. Her eyes quickly avert to the Ironhaven flag next, the Kradaecan flag, the Norden one and finally– she falls to her knees as blue and gold mesh with the flames of a fire. She knows there is no hope now. They cannot escape. They cannot go home. 

Rain droplets mask the tears that stream down her cheeks.

She knows her children and the rest of her people will be forced to move further inland if they are to survive. She knows her children and the rest of her people will prepare for war.

But suddenly she is unsure if her son will find her after all as she feels the bite of a dagger on her neck.

“Long Live The Real King.”