Fiction logo

Treaty for Emeralias

Chapter 1 - Wrath

By Lydia BookerPublished 3 years ago 9 min read
1
Treaty for Emeralias
Photo by Shubhendu Mohanty on Unsplash

The kingdom was in high spirits as everyone celebrated. The party was grand and beautiful, full of charming, rich people and high-class royalty. The proud king sat on his golden throne with the symbol of a golden bull etched into the high back. A large grin spread across his face as he laughed with some other royals who were congratulating him. Few didn’t know about the recent discovery of mines full of some of the finest gold in his region. Many of the guests continued to suck up to the now very rich king in hopes of getting a piece of the action.

One royal pair was not as interested in such politics. King Aisho Death of Emeralias and his father, Lord Death, only watched from one side of the large throne room. King Aisho sighed as his father sipped a glass of wine, “Remind me why we’re here again.”

Lord Death grinned his trademark charming grin, “Appearances, nothing more. Have to show your congratulations to an ally of Emeralias. If you don’t, people will talk, and that wouldn’t be good for your new rule, would it? Can’t have anyone thinking you’re too high and mighty, or too cowardly and weak. Besides, with the trouble of bandits stealing so much of our supplies lately, we could use a few friendly favors from your new rich ally.”

Aisho narrowed his eyes as he watched the puffed up king who only a week ago was the laughing stock of the neighboring kingdoms because of his draining funds, thanks to his foolish obsession with drinking and beautiful women. Why did he ally himself with this shallow fool of a king again?

Death chuckled as he answered the unspoken question, “He may be a fool, but he’s a generous fool. When Emeralias needed aid, he was always willing to offer it. Sure, it came with far too much gloating and pride, but that was a fair price for help when most other kingdoms wouldn’t have anything to do with us.” He looked into his wine glass, a faraway look in his eyes, “Though, that would be my own fault, of course.” The cracks down the side of his face seemed to give off a soft red glow as he seemed to remember.

Aisho understood his growing guilt and spoke with a kind smile, “Mistakes are made by even the greatest of kings, father.” He laid a compassionate hand on his father’s shoulder, “Besides, the past is the past. We must focus on the future.” He heard the king laugh loudly and sighed, “Even if it must be with less-than-likable allies.”

Death glanced at his son and gave a soft smile, “Of course.”

Suddenly, all light sources around the room went out, throwing the whole throne room into darkness. Aisho and his father watched their surroundings in surprise, along with everyone else in the room. Death became serious, “Something’s coming.” Aisho pulled out his hidden blade, ready for anything.

There was a flash of lightning from out the windows before a voice spoke, “I thought I made my rules very clear.” Some women screamed as thunder rolled outside and a figure could be seen standing in the large window overhead, another flash of lightning silhouetting the figure. A pair of wings from their back and a large bag could be seen of the dark figure.

The king sitting on his throne became deathly pale as the figure floated down slowly. The crowds backed away as the figure landed gently, only a few feet ahead of the throne and the shaking king sitting in it. Aisho and his father watched in surprise and concern from off to one side with the crowd.

The figure spoke again, still hard to see in the darkness, “Usually, I don’t return a visit for any visitation parties that are sent to my kingdom…” He held out the bag towards the king, “But I felt inclined to make a special trip just for you.” He turned the bag over and dropped large objects from the sack with skin-crawling, wet thuds on the marble floor. Several guests who made out what the objects were either screamed or jumped back in horror. Lord Death could easily imagine what they were.

Seven severed heads laid before the king, who looked white as a ghost in his terror.

The figure spoke again, “I do not take well to those who betray my kindness, your majesty. I accepted your request for a visitation party to come and earn your kingdom a treaty, yet you sent a party of assassins and mercenaries to kill me in your place as you celebrate safely in your castle walls? Did you really think yourself safe from my wrath by hiring those men to come in your place? You think you’re the first?”

The figure walked forward, making the king look as if he could drop dead from terror. His soldiers finally jumped forward and blocked the way to the king’s throne. The figure didn’t stop. Instead, he held out his hand and a handsome golden staff appeared in his grip.

Lord Death gasped as he saw the staff. Could it be? Surely it couldn’t.

He muttered softly under his breath, “Zarok?” Aisho noticed his father speak, but didn’t understand it’s meaning.

The figure suddenly moved at near untraceable speed, changing his staff into a sword and striking down the soldiers who tried to stop him. In mere seconds, the soldiers all collapsed and the figure now stood right in front of the throne, looking down at the helpless king.

The figure spoke again, his bright red eye gazing down with cold judgement on the shaking king while the other eye was hidden behind his long blond bangs, “I am very tempted to do you the same punishment I did your hired men.” He brought the tip of his sword to the king’s throat, “To make an example of you to anyone else who dares test my patience.”

The frightened king began blubbering out pleads for forgiveness and rants of apology. He even fell to his hands and knees before the figure, touching his head to the floor, “Forgive me, I beg of you, Vampire Lord!!” The crowds all gasped in shock and horror.

Surely this couldn’t be…

The Vampire Lord of the foreboding Vampire Kingdom.

Aisho watched in shock. This was that fabled evil vampire king who was such a threat to all the regions? This figure was the monstrous being of death that wiped out an entire kingdom and slaughtered armies of thousands sent against him again and again?

This was that same beastly king?

The figure spoke again, still calm and collected, as he changed his sword back into a staff, “Why should I forgive a foolish little man like you of such disgrace and cowardice? You have betrayed my trust and have thrown away my hospitality and generosity. What do you think this will mean to anyone else who may wish to acquire a treaty with my kingdom? Not only will it make it more difficult for good-intending kingdoms to gain their treaty, but it will also give rise to more foolish decisions like yours among the kingdoms who wish to attempt my assassination.”

He gripped his staff tightly, making the gem at the tip glow a frightening red, casting the red light on his face. His expression was cold and serious, “I ought to have your head for such actions.” Immediately, the king’s prized golden bull statues around the room were smashed by an invisible force, littering the floor around the guests.

The king sobbed in fear, “Forgive me, I beg of you!! Please, have mercy, your Lordship!! I will do anything, but please spare my life!!”

The Vampire King was silent as he watched. No one made a sound. What would this vicious and powerful king do next?

Finally, the vampire spoke, “You wish to live then?” The king nodded, practically scraping his head against the floor. The vampire straightened, “Very well. If you wish to quell my wrath against you, I will offer you a chance to save your neck.”

The king lifted his face from the ground, hope in his fearful eyes, “Anything, your lordship!”

The vampire made his staff disappear and crossed his arms, “I expect payment in return for the trouble you’ve caused me. Seventeen carts of your best supplies and resources, from food to riches to building materials. Two for each life you’ve just sacrificed, and three for your own foolishness. And I expect it to be your very highest quality of each and every item delivered to the front gates of my kingdom.”

The king looked surprised, “Supplies? Seventeen carts? Surely you can’t…”

The vampire’s eyes burned with a cruel viciousness and rage, “Is it such a high price when I could simply quench my own anger by removing your head here and now before all these people?” Thunder rumbled around outside again as he continued, “Seventeen carts in four days. I expect every piece of food to be fit to serve at your own table, every piece of gold or gemstone unblemished and pure, and all other supplies to be of best quality.”

He narrowed his fiery eye, “If even a single piece of fruit or loaf of bread arrives rotten or molded, I will return with an army to not only take your head, but also lay waste to your pathetic kingdom. I will also make it clear now that you are never to set foot near my kingdom, you or any of your people, or I will punish you in a far graver fashion than I did your men this night. Meaning you are hereby banned from any kind of treaty from this day forth. If I’m feeling generous, perhaps I’ll consider the offer to the next ruler of this kingdom, but so long as you sit on this throne, your kingdom is an enemy of the vampire race. Do I make myself clear?” The king bowed deeper with hasty nods.

The vampire finally turned from the king and faced the crowds, finally allowing them to see him clearly as lightning lit up the room. He was a pale-skinned young man with blond hair, the bangs hiding his one eye while the other was a powerful red. A scar could be seen down his cheek from under his bangs and one of his ears had a tear in it.

The vampire spoke calmly, “Let this be a clear warning to all of you. I am a generous lord, but I will not be toyed with. I expect visitation party requests to be taken seriously, and my rules to be followed. Otherwise…” He glanced at the heads on the floor, “Not just heads will roll.” He glanced back at the king still bowing with his head to the floor, “You have four days to have those carts delivered. Any more problems and I will return here again, and I will not be so merciful next time.” With a heavy flap of his leather wings, the Vampire Lord flew off out the window he entered through.

No one said a word.

Lord Death only watched the window, trapped in his own thoughts. That staff… It couldn’t have been, could it? But that wasn’t Zarok.

So then… who was he?

Series
1

About the Creator

Lydia Booker

Just someone here to tell a story. A story of another world, of new people and places, of adventures beyond imagination.

Are you ready to hear them?

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.