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Love Lost In Vengence

“… As we honor the death of our honorable king ---“the speaker trails off in the mourning of the crowd.

“They seriously need to get better speakers for these funerals.” Reginald muttered to himself. He looked to his left and notices heavily armed guards making their way through the crowd. To his right, an alley way, and down this passage to freedom, he notices a man of high importance who may know where the whereabouts of Vyncant: a high priest by the name of Damien, talking to a man in a black cloak. Reginald started his way over to the alley. The man in the black cloak pulled off his hood and revealed himself. With a look over his shoulder, and catching the eye of Reginald he smiled and walked out of sight.
“Vyncant!” cried Reginald as he dashed towards the alley. A man walked in front of him and Reginald yelled “Out of the way!” and shoved the man as he continued his mad dash down the alley way.
The man picked himself off the ground, dusted himself off, and said in a morose tone, “Anger will be the downfall of that young man…” and disappeared into the crowd.
After shoving the man, Reginald continued down the alley like a bat out of Hell. His pure white cloak with red stripes down the sides was streaming behind him and his sword as drastically being revealed. Suddenly, a rope connected to an arrow shot from one of the connecting houses in the alley and it plunged into the opposite wall in front of Reginald.
Before he could react to this, the rope had already caught his throat and thrown him to the ground. His head bounced off of the stone walkway and his ears were ringing as the black shutters of unconscious blinded his peripheral vision. Just before his vision was completely blocked by the eclipse of his eyes, he witnessed Vyncant, Damien, and two guards come into view just as the black completely covered Reginald’s sight.
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Flames. Nothing but those burning flames. Straight from Hell itself. The screams of burning loved ones. The sickly sweet smell of roasting flesh. The malicious laugh of that man. That man who ruined his life, killed his family, and turned everyone in the Kingdom against him. Vyncant.
Reginald awoke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat. He was being carried by the two guards, hogtied on a stake. In the front of the little parade was Damien, riding an elegant white horse, adorned with sparkling jewels of all sorts of colours. Seeing him, a spark of anger was ignited into a wildfire of rage within Reginald. With a snap of his wrist, Reginald’s hidden blade shot out from under the sleeve of his cloak and cut his bindings. With a jolt of surprise, both men screamed.
Hearing the screams of his startled men, thinking Reginald had woken up and lashed at them, Damien turned around. As he did, a horrific scene fell before his eyes. Reginald had already imbedded one of his capturers’ swords in the base of the man’s neck. After seeing this, Damien saw the true horrors of the portrait painted in blood before him. Reginald was cutting out the surviving guard’s throat, with a jagged, serrated, dagger. The guard was slowly dying. There was a gleam of fear and pain in his eyes as he bled to death.
His eyes locked onto Damien’s. There was fear emanating from every orifice of Damien’s body now. He slowly peered from one dead man to the other and up at Reginald, and what he saw there was complete and utter insanity. There was a grin across Reginald’s face but there was no joy in his eyes. His once white cloak was now drenched in blood. He was, also, licking the blood of his fallen enemies off of his fingers.

At the sight of this, Damien fled upon his gallant, white, steed. Reginald picked up the stake that had been binding him only minutes before, and hurled it with all of his might at Damien. His aim was true and pierced his target straight through his lower back. Damien fell off his mount and the impact pushed the stake further through his body.

Reginald walked over to Damien with a smug look adorned across his face as he crouched down near Damien’s face. Damien had been impaled through his abdomen and his intestines were coiled around Reginald’s make-shift javelin.

“Where is it?” Reginald demanded.

"Why should I tell you?” retorted Damien.
“Because if you don’t,” Reginald explained, “I’ll allow you to live long enough so you’ll be able to witness the death of your family. I’ll take them and start with a dagger and---“Reginald stopped and wiped a mixture of blood and spit off of his face. “Tempt not a desperate man.” Reginald said coolly.
“The map is in Gabriel’s saddle bag.” Damien said, as he pointed towards his beautiful steed, “Just leave my family out of this. Now kill me.”
Reginald walked over to Gabriel, obtained the map from the saddle bag, mounted his new legs, and starts to ride off. With a second thought, he turns back, and grabs a bow and quiver off of one of the fallen soldiers.
Crows had already found their fresh meal of meat as Damien bellowed, “Kill me now you coward!”
“I don’t need another body on my mind.” Reginald replied, “So I’ll let them decide your fate.” He points off to the edge of the woods as a pack of wolves storm out smelling a fresh meat. “They look pretty merciful” he laughed as he started to ride towards the castle of his final target. He slowed as he heard howling and the sound of a dying man’s scream.

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The smell of loved ones burning. The sound of his mother’s tortured screams. The sight of his father’s decapitated head. All of this, the result of Vyncant.
The castle walls started darkening as the day decided to retire. Reginald wished he could retire as well, for he had not slept for over a day, but he knew this would be the only time he could exact vengeance for the atrocities committed by Vyncant to his family. Reginald, driven by a hate so powerful, that nothing else mattered but the death of that man, ascends the castle walls. As he makes it to the top, he was just missed by a passing guard. Reginald reaches out and slashes the guards’ throat, and tosses him down the castle walls. He then draws his bow and attaches a rope to an arrow and shoots just above a window across from him and shimmies across.
Upon entering the room, he noticed many great instruments. There were a plethora of flutes, and violas, and many instruments unknown to him. There was a certain instrument that caught his eye. This instrument was composed of metal and thin metal strings. He plucked one of these strings and it made a high-pitched “Thoooong”. Pleased with the metal string, he cut it off.
“It shall not be playing that pure of a note soon.” Reginald chuckled as he put the string in his quiver with evil intentions for the string of the harp.
As Reginald opened the door and slyly looked out. He noticed a lone guard, apparently off his post, peering up at the stars, daydreaming of a better life. Reginald snuck up behind him, grabbed him, covered his mouth, and put his dagger to his captive’s throat and said calmly, “If you would like to live, tell me where Vyncant is lingering.” He released the guard’s mouth for an answer.
“Last door,” he uttered in a meek tone, “Down the hallway, on your right.” Quivering he added, “Please don’t kill me…” as a warm trail of urine slid into a puddle at his feet.
“You’ve done as I’ve asked of you. I always keep my word.” Reginald stated as his heart started pounding, for justice was finally going to be served. Reginald brought the hilt of his sword down upon the back of the guard’s head, and leaves him unconscious at his feet.
Reginald creeps down the hallway to the last door on the right. His heart was racing as he reached for the knob of the door and when he touches it, he remembers back to when he was a child. How Vyncant and he would play. Always looking out for each other. Helping each other…
He pushes the door open and sees Vyncant sleeping…
He and Vyncant used to sleep under the stars together…
He pulled the metal string out of his quiver…
He had been taught how to use a bow and wear a quiver by Vyncant…

He wrapped the string around Vyncant’s neck as tears were streaming down his face…
Vyncant always used to comfort him when he would cry…

And he pulled.

Leaving the room of the beheaded Vyncant behind, Reginald entered the main hall. He was crying so hard from the deed he had done, he was trembling. The room was packed with guards and archers of all kinds.

Reginald dropped to his knees as the archers drew back their bows.

“The last of my family is dead!” cried Reginald, “There is no life without family!” and under his breath he added, “I’m sorry, Brother…”


The archers released their drawstrings…



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