Rebellion's Resurgence

CHAPTER 1

Pilot

PALACE, GLASGOW

The sounds of clanging swords, yells of battle and those of dying men signified only one thing; there was an ongoing battle to defend the kingdom from the invasion of Saxon led by the formidable and feared Emperor Timothy Hildegard. Whilst all these was going on outside, inside the citadel was a flutter of tension. A man in a noble cloth walked with short but purposeful stride. He had a lock of golden hair with weathered out face. A long scar lined the side of his neck. A sword hung by a black belt on his waist. It was unencumbered by the burden of a sheath. The royal gown he donned on was black flowing down to his knees and split on all four sides enabling the belt and sword to show. It also had a golden design in the front.

No guards were standing inside the palace. It was highly unusual but given that every effort was geared towards the warfront, it was to be expected. Meanwhile, King Rick, short, bulky with blond hair and a scar lined out by the side of his neck walked with a fast stride and a frowning face as his sword swung by the sheath joined to his hip. He was a man of singleness of purpose and determination. As such, he would stop at nothing to ensure that the emperor never laid his hands on the prized possession: The crown prince of Glasgow for when the time comes that the prince is of age, he would take back his kingdom with pride.

The king swung open the ornate almost golden doors of the Throne Room and entered. The grand doors opened smoothly as King Rick let himself in. Standing before the throne was a man dressed what appeared to be a physician's apparel but was in fact a wizard's garb. He was slim and stood tall at over six feet. He had long black hair on his head as well as a goatee in his chin. The man's head was bowed as if in silent supplication or in silent meditation. King Rick's shoe echoed within the room as he walked towards the man. The man raised up his head and tilted his head to the side before turning slowly towards the king walking towards him.

"Your Highness." His voice was like a silent whisper as he regarded King Rick.

King Rick directed his gaze towards the throne in the front of the room before looking at the tall lean man who was his father stood before him. He walked slowly past the man before speaking,

"Father, the times are dire and dark but I know that I can trust you."

Alfred looked up slowly, his eyes devoid of any emotion as he replied,

"My Son, your kingdom was my kingdom. I would never do anything to endanger all of this. Ask of me even the earth and I'll give it to you."

The King nodded with satisfaction as he fingered the arm of the red velvet throne. He turned back to face Alfred, his eyes steaming over as if he would cry. But instead he raised himself straight and steeled himself as he said,

"Alfred Griffith, you are a seer and a wizard. Right now, we cannot delay the inevitable. The Kingdom is already lost. I need you to go to Ethan's room. Take him. I need the both of you to disappear because Timothy will not stop until he relinquishes and eradicates my bloodline from this earth. When the Prince is truly ready to take back this kingdom, I want you to be his guiding hand. I need you to guide him in the choices he makes. Let him make the mistakes that he will but let him know that no matter what, you will be there to hold him when he falls. Protect him from Timothy's forces".

Tears streamed down Alfred's face as the King gave his final commands. He stood up, looked at King Rick as he heard heavy footsteps coming the way of the throne room. He ran out the emergency exit as King Rick placed his hand on the hilt of the sword by the sheath in his hip.

The battle-field was quiet already. A large bulky warrior in a special wine-coloured armour with belt crossing all the way to the waist flanked on both sides by five soldiers walked the length of the too quiet battlefield heading towards the citadel. Dead men of both sides laid on the ground. The ground was scattered with the lots of them. Most had their heads cut off or their bodies mangled by the weapons of the enemy.

Emperor Tim scoffed as he walked past the dead soldiers. He climbed the stairs leading to the insides of the Citadel. His too slow steps echoed in the hall way of the palace. His lips curled up in a smile as he approached the throne room. He signalled the soldier behind him. The soldier nodded and headed a different direction. The emperor heard the voices in the throne room even before he reached there. The four soldiers flanking him tore into the room first, their swords at the ready to sunder enemy forces. But they met only the king in the room, his sword held loose in his hand. Emperor Tim entered the room, a flicker of surprise and pleasure lit in his eyes when he spotted the lone figure in the room.

The soldier opened the wooden regal door of the prince's room quietly. He peered into the dark room trying to see into the dark where the price was. He drew his sword as quietly as he dared and entered the room stealthily. He continued looking around the room only to be caught off guard by a wood that conked him in the head. His head caught fire as he turned to look behind him. He groaned as the head throbbed delicately. He frowned ready to gut down the little bastard. He waved his sword towards the direction as he spotted a shadowy figure hiding itself. He raised his sword ready to bring the sharp end of it down on the figure who screamed.

Alfred Griffith hurried down the hall way desperate to get to Prince Ethan's room. Enemy forces were already swarming the whole palace. He had to dodge two or three of those men in leather jerkins they called armour. He scoffed and quickened his pace as he kept looking around to gauge whether he was being followed. So far, so good, he thought as he breathed out. A scream coming from the direction of the Prince's room sent racking chills down his back. He stood horrified for what seemed like minutes, but in reality, was only seconds before his legs moved and he rocketed down the rest of the way.

He saw the door of the room opened before he got there. His heart flew into his mouth as he rushed in. He barely saw the soldier before the words careened out of his mouth and the spell sent the soldier flying to hit the other side of the room. He laid unconscious on the ground. He turned to face the young prince, grabbed his hand and began to chant. When he was through, it was as if they had never been in the room. They had just vanished into thin air.

King Rick glared at Emperor Timothy as he and his men entered. King Rick looked defiant as his posture denoted anything but submission. He would rather die than submit and he intended just that. As the Emperor moved towards him with a smirk, a soldier moved ahead of him and delivered an uppercut to the king's jaw. The punch sent the king's head to the side. His vision swam for a while as he raised his face up. He raised his hand wiping the blood from his split lip.

"You won't fight back? Poor shame." Emperor Tim sneered.

"You were always an opportunist taking advantage of other people. You might think that you've won but this is just the beginning. You will be destroyed at last."

So, saying, he lifted up his sword and in a flurry of movement too fast to even anticipate, he stabbed through the soldier that had punched him. The soldier gasped as he slid to the ground off the sword. He raised the sword on himself and took a punch through his heart. He smiled as he slid to his knees and fell sideways plunging to his own death.

Emperor Tim was taken completely by surprise. He smiled and turned to the remaining three soldiers,

"No doubt the prince has escaped. Organise a city-wide search for him. I won't have anyone contesting this throne with me. Burn the bodies." He moved towards the throne.