Codex Mortem

Heavy the crown

Raiden

I was covered in sweat. The sweet slave was moaning, more in pain than pleasure. Suddenly, my heart jolted, and, for a moment, a whisper reached my ears.

I shook my head and continued, but something was nagging at my thoughts. I peered at the chest and felt a pull toward it. I got up and walked to it, reaching its lock.

The slave looked concerned. "My king..."

Annoyed by her presence, I wanted rid of her. "GET OUT!"

I could smell her fear and see her confusion. But she did as was told, pulled back her chemise and opened the door. The guard outside, standing firm and strong, looked at me, waiting for orders.

"Take her back" I said.

-"Lord, did she... displease you?" The guard said.

"TAKE HER BACK!" I shouted. He flinched and left, with the girl trailing behind him.

I unlocked the chest and searched. My fingers brushed pieces of a life, of a man I can't remember. The past of a king before a crown. I took the carved wooden box out. Why is it warm? What does it want? I placed it in front of the fireplace and sat on the floor, not taking my eyes off it.

The door opened like thunder and my second in command burst in.

"What's wrong?" His peaked thick brows drew together.

"I don't know" I said in frustration. "I felt something. And it has to do with this!"

He sat near me, and we kept looking at it for a long time, in silence. Nothing happened. I touched it again, but it felt cold. Cold like my soul. I threw it back and locked the chest.

I reattached the star key to my neck chain, where I always kept it. No one knew it was a key, except Rhys. I trusted him deeply. He was the one to convince me to take the throne. because of his ideas of better, I threw the white stone at the king's feet, challenging him. I remember their faces, how they bowed in fear and respect for their new king, when the blood of the old one was dripping from my hands.

I remember Rhys, looking at me with such pride that one would think he was the king. Since then, he was always by my side. I trained him every day, and I grew him strong- the strongest of all, that none would dare to challenge. But he could never equal me. The only one who could do that was Caleb. The king of the Nightwalkers.

Rhys cleared his throat. I raised a brow.

"I thought you would burn it again..."

"What's the point? How many times have we tried that?" I asked rhetorically. Was is fourteen years ago when this happened last time?"

Rhys nodded. "So... about the girl-"

"I wasn't displeased" I cut him. "Do you want her?" As my successor, he had the right to take any after me. And then, the slaves could be claimed. If two or more men lay the claim, they would fight, usually until one submits.

"I have to admit she's pretty. Liam likes her" He narrowed his amber eyes, and I knew he's brewing something. "I can tease him for a few days" Rhys said with a cocky grin.

After so much time, still behaving like a youngster. At six feet and two inches height, with protruding muscles, short sable hair and his chiseled stubbled face, he had the good looks- as women would say, but so arrogant...

"You are restless like a pup- and set on mischief." He was also the one person to hold me and my kingdom in a piece.

"Well, you know me, Raiden! A huge steak, a bloody-"