The Priest poured a bit of holy water out onto the gray marble slab and wiped away the remaining blood from its surface. He examined the altar thoroughly before using the crimson-stained cloth to wipe the sweat from his brow. He drew in a deep breath and consumed the Communion Wafer. Rejuvenated by the ritual, a fiendish smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
A series of soft bangs from outside of the room drew his attention.
“Quiet, you fool. Do you want to be discovered?” he whispered. “My cover is secure. But I doubt they’ll look kindly on an aristocrat dragging the lifeless body of the Prince through the halls of Castle Adiart with his noble dagger plunged deep into the Prince’s heart.”
The following morning, whispers spread throughout the castle and panic followed closely in its wake. With an aging King on the throne, news of the Prince’s horrific death signaled the first public act of a brooding conflict. The long reign of the Erodat family was nearing its end. The bloody struggle to fill the vacuum of power was just beginning.
As the days passed, the Prince’s body lay unflinching in the main hall. The King sat in a similarly lifeless state as a procession of townsfolk came to pay their respect to his sole heir.
After each royal servant laid their hand on the casket, they walked up to the King and offered their condolences. The Priest quickly wiped their fingerprints away while smiling and blessing them with the sign of the cross.
On the fifth day, the Priest stood in front of the largest crowd the main hall had seen in over a decade.
“While the gentle soul of the Prince departs this Earthly realm, we are reminded just how precious life can be. One day we are holding our children tight and wiping the dirt from their face, and the next we are wiping the tears of sorrow from our own.
“Now, more than ever, it is important that we remember the good times we had and refrain from turning to anger and hate. For the only way to feel such pain in death is to experience the great joys of life.
“The blood that was spilled within these glorious walls cannot be replaced by the blood of our enemies. God will see to it that their punishment is eternal and everlasting.
“In my prayers, I often speak with the dead that have passed through the sturdy walls of Castle Adiart and reside in the graveyard outside my chamber’s window. They do not dwell on the flesh they have lost. Death is but a new chapter in their story. A chapter that the great Prince will be welcomed into warmly.
“Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. From once we came, we soon return, but the light we cast will never cease to burn. We bid farewell to the Prince as he voyages through the great beyond. What outstanding stories he will tell when we meet him again.”
Tears rained down from the many faces as they marched out of the castle. The Prince was known far and wide as a gentle and loving person with intelligence in abundance. The people of Castle Adiart knew well what greatness he was destined for.
When the last soul left, the doors were closed and just those closest to the King remained. The Priest continued to wipe down the casket while the Aristocrat stood close by. The only other person in the room was the fearsome Knight, standing within inches of the King’s golden throne.
Through his gilded helm, the Knight’s eyes darted back and forth between the King and the secretive duo and their subtle whispers. He failed at his duty to sacrifice himself in the name of the Prince. He would not fail the King in the same way.
The sense of unease grew, and soon turned to anger as he watched the King cough into a crimson-stained rag. The sound echoed through the chamber and the Knight watched the Aristocrat attempt to hide his smile.
“TRAITOR!” he roared as he drew his sword from its sheath. “How dare you smile in such dire times! You shall feel the wrath of my cold steel against your pale flesh!”
The Knight charged forward with his sword drawn. The Soulcatching Priest scurried for cover behind the casket, while the Aristocrat drew his Assassin’s blade. The Knight’s opening swing was heavy and broad, but the Assassin ducked under the blow and slipped his dagger between a slight gap in the Knight’s armor.
Blood stained the ground, but the Knight’s passion did not falter. He came back with a second blow that, again, narrowly missed. The swing did not throw the Knight off balance this time and he followed up with a thumping kick that sent the Assassin crashing to the ground with a pair of broken ribs.
“This will not end well for you assassin! The merciful Prince has left Castle Adiart, and no quarter will be given. The Black Rose will be unmasked tonight and just as quickly wiped from the scrolls of history.”
The Knight struck a ferocious downward blow that met little resistance from the soft midsection of the Assassin. In the Knight’s weakened state, he struggled to pull his sword from the dying man’s stomach. He fell to one knee and tried to stem the flow of blood from his own wound.
With his attention focused on the sword, the Soulcatcher snuck up behind the Knight. The formerly devout and loyal man of the cloth ripped off the Knight’s helmet and spat in his face.
“You would have made a strong Enforcer, my friend. Now, your soul will make a great addition to my collection. Your sacrifice will solidify my rise to power. Good thing the King’s mind is too corroded to remember what he’s about to see.”
The Priest raised his dagger high above his head. With one great burst of energy, the Knight ripped his broad sword from the fallen assassin and struck his new opponent with a deadly blow. The fearsome Knight fell to the ground and joined his enemy in death’s clutches.
The Soulcatcher was thrust backwards by the strike as the air rushed from his body. He knew that he could not survive the blow. He rushed for the stairway out of the main hall and slowly climbed towards his chambers on hands and knees.
Once inside, he locked the door behind him and took his final breath.
The next day, the sun’s rays exposed the gruesome scene. The Prince’s casket was covered in the blood of the Unseen and the valiant Knight lay victorious upon the cold steel of his sword.
Crews of servants scrambled to clean up the blood and cleanse the main hall of the vile stench of death.
The Priest entered the hall with a solemn look on his face… and the Assassin’s dagger tucked into his belt.
