Note: this is a work of fiction, with all the usual stuff about copyright and permission. It’s also a work in progress and a way to develop my knowledge of the english language. So feel free to correct, debate, laugh, ask about it in the comments. Help appreciated.
You may find the index here.
When I woke up it was like to enter in a nightmare of pain. Every single muscle of my body ached, I was thirsty and hungry, the need for that cursed drug was strong enough to cloud my vision with a red mist. I was chained again, this time to four bronze poles. There were ten soldiers with me, all of them dressed like the Red Guards that I’ve met before. We were inside a great tent with an open at my left, illuminated by small oil lamps.
“So you are a soldier, aren’t’ you?”
He was an old man, maybe in his seventies. His voice was still strong.
“My son sent me messages about you and today we discover that you’re adapting well to our world. I can understand why Halkan didn’t kill you as I’ve commanded. At the top of your strength you may attack a whole army.”
The king walked slowly around me, his arms crossed.
“You will be killed. No matter about how much the Omniplan complains. Your existence is a menace for my kingdom, an hope for the rebels and a weapon in the hands of my own son.”
So it was over. I managed to find enough spirit in me to smile. No way I gave that crowned bastard the satisfaction to hear me begging for my life.
“It looks like a civil war will happen soon. Your son will not wait for lon…”
My sentence was stopped by a slap on my face. I wasn’t popular between Red Guards. Nevertless I tried to go on.
“You will kill each other and the rebels will…”
Two more slaps, hard enough to turn my face sideways both times.
“You don’t understand. Even my son doesn’t understand what’s going on. Nor the rebels do. Only the Omniplan knows what will happen in the near future. Once the full control will be restored upon my kingdom we will be able to overcome our doomsday.”
The king look older now, his eyes focused on something far distant from that tent.
“The ghosts will be stopped. Then we will face the Storm and go on. My kingdom will not be wiped out.”
He paused for a moment, his eyes closed.
“Get here the executioner and have a pyre set up right out the eastern side of our camp. No more time to waste in this foulness.”
The king moved out of the tent, leaving a smiling group of soldiers and me. I was shaking again, the need for godblood was worst than before. While I was waiting for my death I was wondering about the words of the king. A doomsday? A storm hard enough to wipe out a kingdom? A computer able to predict the future? I simply could not concentrate, the only thing that I could think about was Kellan.
Then came the executioner. It was time.