“Yes,” he muttered.
“Have I ever steered you the wrong way? I’m only trying to do what’s best for you. No mother wants to have to say goodbye to one of her children. I carried you inside me for nine months. I just want to see you happy. No matter how old you grow you will still be my baby. Your friend, Shamil has already found himself a girl, I see.”
“What…what do you mean?” stuttered Ing.
“Oh, Ing,” said Selenia. “Can’t you see the way he looks at Arlene? They are in love.”
“Well, who is there for me?” Ing asked.
“You will find someone someday,” answered Selenia. “Now go to sleep. It’s getting late.”
Chapter 3: Death in the Night
Up in the sky of Ganwin shone a bright, full moon. Everyone was asleep, resting in their beds, except for one man. A thick red-brown beard covered this particular man's face, to match his thick build. But it must be said that he was thick with muscle, not with fat. His legs were stronger than most, with tight cords of muscle. In his eyes shone a fierce light, good or ill. If you asked his family, they would say the light was good and that he was doing their family justice, their only son, the one who would take back a portion of their former glory. If glory it can be called to be feared and hated by your people, to be called greedy behind your back. Yes, their former status was lost and they would never again be as they were, but their son would make them proud and reclaim dominion for himself. A pale moon for a pale night, he thought.
This man's name was Oxen Mollish. At his side, hidden from plain sight, was his sword, Deathbringer it was called in his mind, but to others it had no name as this name sounded of evil intent. But if he was evil that was what they had made him. To be hated before he was even born on his parents' account. King Turen, Queen Mare, my mother, my father, I am sorry, he whispered in his head. Do not hate me. Whatever I obtain this night, it will not be yours to share. This is my victory and mine alone. The Mollish name may be stained in our city, but I will stomp out any who seek to talk of me unjustly in Ganwin. My fate will be different than yours. I will succeed where you failed.
Mollish drew his arms close to his chest in a hope to gather what warmth he could. Warmth was hard to come by on a night like this, a windy night in the south. The guards on night patrol were out guarding the castle, as was custom. Their silver breastplates shimmered in the moonlight as night passed by. Atop a nearby hill, watching over the tranquil town in silence stood Oxen Mollish. As he, too, came from a family of royals, he was next in line to take the king's place upon death. Unbeknownst to the townsfolk, he had formulated a plan to overthrow King Galfer and become, himself, supreme ruler over the area. I will be their king whether they like it or not. And the royal priest will help me in the transition.
His hair blew in the wind as he prepared to march towards the castle at the center of Ganwin. He could not make any mistakes. There was only one chance. He felt his sword at his side, resting peacefully, purposefully, in its leather scabbard. The blade had remained, untouched, inside the scabbard for a long time, but it was finally about to be put to use. Its mark would be felt gravely by Ganwin.
Oxen decided it was time. He strode to the gates at the east edge of the town. As he drew closer, a shadow seemed to follow him, as if a dark force in the land was alive, guided by his will. Does the shadow of Slithzalien follow me even here? Is this the might of the dark one? No, maybe not. Dark nights like these cast many shadows. Slithzalien's domain is not here in the south, this is my domain. These are my people. A lesser man might not have the heart for the task that I am set with, but it will be I who
kills the king. I will take his life and afterwards his castle. I will sleep in his quarters and he will pass into memory.
Quietly, he opened the gate and shut it with equal caution. Perched atop his vantage point outside the walls, he had been able to confirm that the only sign of life was two guards at the bottom of the steps to the castle. No one would foil his plans; or so he hoped.
He slowed his breathing and crept like a thief in the night towards the castle. His gaze settled upon the king’s guards, as he peered around the corner of the home he was presently resting against. Strong looking men, strong and brave, but I need not fear them. I will distract the two guards of the king and be left in peace to do my job.
Lying at his feet was a small rock, like a gift from the shadows that followed his stride. He picked up the rock and tossed it with precision off in the distance. It hit the ground with a slight thud, exactly where he had wished it to land, catching the attention of the two guards posted at the foot of the stairs that led to the king’s home.
"What was that?" one of them whispered abruptly. His name was Kelly Rose, father to Charles and Harriet Rose, and husband to Mar Rose. It sounded like...a rock? he thought. Or do my ears deceive me? Everything is usually quiet at this time. Maybe it was just the wind blowing things around. Nothing to worry about, to
