Dreamer's Throne

After returning to the ballroom, Garrett was approached a few times by some of the nobles who recognized him, and the hours leading up to the crowning ceremony were filled with small talk. When the time came, there was a trumpet blast silencing the conversation in the room, and the chief steward stood up in front of the crowd. Victor was dressed to perfection, and his warm gaze swept over the assembled nobles.

"In half an hour, the crowning ceremony of our new queen will begin. A joyous occasion for Insomnium and all its citizens. I would invite those with gold-edged invitations to make their way to the throne room to find your assigned seating."

Under the envious gazes of the crowd, around a hundred people began to move towards the throne room, Garrett and Ryn among them. In the throne room, seats had been set up for all of those watching, and Garrett found an empty space waiting for him to park his wheelchair. Once Ryn was seated beside him, he directed his attention to the throne, where Duke Arkov stood.

On the throne itself was a large pillow, and on the pillow, a glittering crown that Garrett had last seen on the late king's head. It was thick and heavy, and seemed to hold a tremendous weight. Garrett only needed a glance to know that it was a mysterious artifact, though what its function was, he wasn't sure.

The more he explored the palace, the clearer it was becoming that the attack against the royal family had been both meticulously planned and an inside job. From his interactions with Arkov, however, Garrett genuinely didn't believe the duke had anything to do with it. Yet if that was the case, then it must have been somebody else with intimate access to the royal family. Though Garrett didn't want to jump to any conclusions, he already knew what that meant.

Slowly, his gaze drifted over to where Victor Klein stood, at the bottom of the steps leading up to the throne. He looked every part the loyal servant. Not a hint of deceit or ambition could be found anywhere on him. Yet Garrett knew just how duplicitous his father was, as his father had been before him.

"What are you thinking about?" Ryn asked, as she saw a small smile on Garrett's face.

"I'm just thinking that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Garrett said with a laugh. "Like father, like son."

Before she could question him further, there was another trumpet blast, and the ceremony got underway. It was a relatively simple affair that consisted of Duke Arkov making a small speech, and then inviting Princess Eloise to come to the throne. As she stood in front of it, the duke reached down and lifted up the crown from the pillow.

"The right to rule has been granted to you by birth, but in truth, it comes from another place. This crown represents the will of the people, the burden of their lives. Bear it well, Queen Eloise."

As he finished speaking, Duke Arkov lowered the crown onto Eloise's head, and Garrett felt a rumble of power as the crown flashed brightly, causing the room to light up. It shone with a light pure and bright, causing all who looked on Eloise to feel their souls tremble.

It was a full minute before the glow surrounding the new queen faded. When it finally did, everyone in the room stood and bowed toward the throne. Moving slowly, as if still getting used to the weight of the crown on her head, Eloise sat on the throne. Duke Arkov's voice filled the room.

"All hail, Queen Eloise. May your reign be long and prosperous."

Those words were echoed by everyone in the throne room. Once more, Garrett felt a shift in the air as a wave of mental energy expanded around the queen.

With the ceremony over, Queen Eloise thanked everybody for coming and dismissed them. Next, she would address the nobles gathered in the ballroom, and the first party would begin. According to the schedule that had been laid out, parties would continue for the next three days. But the reality was that the city had already begun to celebrate. The streets were filled with citizens laughing and drinking as they waited for the queen's address that afternoon.

Not everyone gathered at the palace was having a good time, however. Garrett could feel the tension among many of the nobles. Whether they knew something was going to happen or not didn't seem to matter, as there was a clear sense that disaster was about to strike. The first thing Garrett noticed was more and more guards filtering into various parts of the palace, every single one of them carrying a nightmare. Many of the servants were the same, and it was the presence of so many nightmares that seemed to be putting the nobles on edge.

As the tension peaked, Garrett asked Ryn to take him to try and find the princess. But before he could, there was a loud shout, and suddenly the windows to the ballroom exploded, sending shards of glass flying. Immediately, chaos reigned as dozens of black-clothed figures rushed through the broken windows, gleaming weapons in their hands. At the same time, the guards pulled their weapons and rushed into the crowd, as if they were going to fight against the black-clothed assailants.

Closing his eyes, Garrett located the Queen in one of the adjoining rooms, only to realize that Duke Arkov wasn't by her side. The Duke was all the way across the castle. But before Garrett could try and figure out why, one of the dark-clothed attackers rushed towards him. He wasn't necessarily targeting Garrett specifically, but rather was aiming for the group of nobles Garrett was with.

Ryn acted immediately, power surging from her soul spark, as she stepped in front of Garrett to block the attacker's sword. She was barehanded, as bringing weapons into the palace wasn't allowed. But the increase in power becoming a Shaper had given her was more than enough to disarm the man and impale him on his own sword. A brief flash of terror crossed the man's eyes, and his mouth moved as if he wanted to say something. Before he could, however, his body exploded, scattering flesh and blood across the room.

Just before he erupted, Ryn had sensed something and jumped back, pulling up shadow like a cloak around her to block the force of the blast. As it faded, she turned to check if Garrett was okay, as the nobles nearby screamed and panicked. The explosion seemed to act as a signal, and within a few seconds, three more of the black-clothed assailants were torn apart, their bodies transforming into projectiles that wounded dozens of nobles and killed a few of the guards.

Garrett, who had fully expected the attack, had never imagined that they'd be facing something like this. But his focus wasn't in the ballroom, but rather with the Queen, who was facing half a dozen more of these mysterious attackers. Garrett felt his soul tremble as his mind flashed back to the terrible memories of the last attack in the palace he had been caught up in. Though they dressed the same, he knew that these weren't members of Black Raven, like the previous attackers had been, but instead were death-sworn soldiers cultivated by Victor Klein for this very purpose.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The guards, who had been struggling already, soon found themselves in an even worse position, as many of their number began to act erratically, screaming in fury and attacking everyone around them. Forced to deal both with the black-clothed assassins and their now insane comrades, the guards who hadn't been corrupted were soon overwhelmed. The guard captain, who was desperately fighting against three enemies, felt his heart catch as one of his trusted lieutenants suddenly raced towards him, madness painted across his face.

Before the lieutenant could reach him, there was a blast and a section of the wall crumbled to pieces. Rolling green flame slammed into the crazed lieutenant, causing him to shriek in pain. Striding out through the hole in the wall, Cynen looked around the room, calmly surveying the chaos. "Take down the enemy," she said, and through the gap, hundreds of Awakened began to rush into the room, all wearing the gray hooded uniform of the grave walkers. From the other end of the ballroom came a shout as the doors were forced open and Coleridge led the Cleaver's Edge mercenaries to fight against the assassins.

"We need to find somewhere quiet," Garrett said.

With Ryn leading the way, Garrett maneuvered his wheelchair through the fighting as they headed towards the rooms that lay off of the ballroom. The first room was empty, but Garrett knew that the Queen was just beyond. He didn't proceed, however, and called for Ryn to stop.

"I need you to protect this room," he said. "Keep me safe."

Her expression grim, Ryn nodded as Garrett closed his eyes, wishing that he had access to the Dreamer's throne. The problem was that it was the middle of the day, and so his access to the dream was cut off. Still, he could feel the connection between his soul spark and the throne, and he drew as much strength from that as he could.

All across the palace, everything was in chaos. Guards, possessed by nightmares, attacked their companions, and even the servants pulled out weapons and began to fight. There seemed to be hundreds of the dark-clothed assassins who threw themselves with abandon at everyone they saw. Only a few rooms away, Queen Eloise was facing the first crisis of her reign. Her face was pale as she stood surrounded by bodies. Her four remaining guards did their best to drive off the half a dozen assassins, but it was a losing fight, and even as she watched, one of the guards fell, his blood dying the gleaming blade of his killer.

"Surrender yourself, and all of this will be a lot easier," one of the assassins said, as he wiped the blood from his sword. "We can stop all of this death if you just give yourself up."

"Don't listen, your majesty," one of the guards said. "Support is on the way."

Just then, the door opened, revealing three heavily armored royal guards. Cursing their ill luck, the assassins immediately tried to escape, but before they could, they were torn apart under the heavy blades wielded by the royal guard. The royal guard moved with ruthless efficiency, and after they had finished cutting down the assassins, they began to advance towards the princess. Just then, however, a figure flashed through the open door, calling for the princess to retreat.

"Don't let them near you," Edward called out, his voice grim. Immediately, the three members of the royal guard burst into action, two of them turning around to face the old man, while one surged towards the princess. The three guards who were still alive, threw themselves in the way, but the heavily armored royal guard was like an unstoppable boulder, smashing straight into the first guard. He threw him aside, even as his heavy blade hacked into the second, severing an arm and knocking the man to the side.

The third guard lunged forward, wrapping himself around the royal guard only to bounce off as he was overpowered by the guard's strength. The two royal guards who had gone up against Edward, attacking from two different angles, found themselves in a much worse position. As the old man slipped past their attacks, landing heavy strikes that cracked their armor, he wielded a club, slamming it into the royal guards with enough force to shatter the thick plates of armor covering their bodies.

Still, they bought enough time for the third guard to reach the princess's side. Through the eye holes in his helmet, the princess seemed to see a flare of crimson as the guard reached for her throat. Stumbling backwards, she screamed, and there was a muffled thump as a wave of power exploded from the crown, slamming into the royal guard with enough force to throw him across the room.

As he crashed against the wall, the power continued to press down on him, crushing his armor and his body with it, until all that remained was a mangled pile of steel and flesh. The crown on the queen's head dimmed, drained of much of its strength. Edward finally managed to defeat one of the royal guards, causing the other to begin to back away. Before he could escape, however, Edward leapt over, bringing down his club with brutal force, crushing the man's head, helmet, and all. The stench of blood filled the room as the queen supported herself against the wall. His expression terrible, Edward looked at the three dead royal guards and shook his head.

"The world has gone mad," he said, as he walked over to the queen. "We need to get you to a place of safety. It's not safe here."

Taking a deep breath and trying to stabilize her emotions, the queen stood up.

"Is there anywhere that's safe?" She asked.

Her question caused Edward to grimace, and he hesitated for a moment, almost as if he was wondering whether he should lie or not. His lack of an answer was answer enough for the queen. All around the palace, the fighting was fierce. But nowhere was it fiercer than in the north wing, where Duke Arkov stood in the middle of a trashed room, glaring in fury at the ten figures that stood around him. Twenty-five more lay dead or dying on the ground. But despite that, the assassins who remained showed no fear.

"You're much stronger than reports have led us to believe," one of the assassins said. "But it doesn't matter. You'll still die here today."

Without answering, Duke Arkov just glared. The assassins had caught him off-guard, trapping him in this room with some sort of strange, mysterious artifact that had warped the space. No matter which door he left from, he always ended up back in this same room. And every time, these ten assassins were waiting for him to kill him.

He had already slain them three different times, resulting in the bodies scattered around the room. Yet every time he left, they had returned to life, to throw themselves against him. As the Duke's fury grew, the entire space seemed to shake. Yet no matter how much power he mustered, he couldn't break free of the grip of the mysterious artifact.

"My master is impressed with your strength," the lead assassin said. "So much so, that she is willing to offer you a tremendous opportunity. The opportunity to ascend beyond the mortal realm."

The Duke's response was to stretch out his hand and manifest a giant sword made purely of his will. As the sword solidified, so did a dozen others hanging in the air around him, as his soul spark manifested itself into the world. With a roar, he slashed out, causing the swords to fly toward the assassins, who blocked in vain. Their bodies were torn apart in an instant, unable to withstand the tremendous power the Duke could wield.

Yet even as they died, they laughed, mocking echoes bouncing throughout the room, and Duke Arkov felt his heart sink, as the certainty that no matter how he left the room, he would end up right back here, facing them once again, settled into his heart.