Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24449631-20140812154057/@comment-5735114-20140814152224

Saera lay in bed, tossing and turning now and again, unable to fall asleep. Her thoughts seemed to be whizzing around randomly, full of speculation, what ifs, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, hope. Sighing, she gave up on sleep, and sat up in the darkness.

Quietly, Saera stood up, taking care not to wake any of the other servants in the adjacent beds. She winced slightly when her feet touched the cold stone floor, but she did her best to ignore it afterwards. Slowly walking forwards, keeping her feet off the floor as long as possible, she eventually reached the door, and the small lantern on the floor next to it. Quietly summoning a flame in her hand, Saera lit the lantern and slowly opened the door. To her relief, it didn't creak like it usually did.

After slowly closing the door, Saera began taking slow steps down the hall, the carpet helping her feet. She was still shivering slightly, because her thin nightgown was not adequate to stave off the cold night air. While she walked, she thought back to the events that had transpired during the day.

As usual, Saera was the servant bringing Fanril his lunch. Wanting to get it over with, she briskly walked to his cavernous throne room and lay the food down by the doorway, when the King spoke up.

"Bring it to me."

Sighing, Saera picked up the tray and carried it over to the King, who took it from her and placed it on his lap.

"Dismissed."

The servant was about to leave the room, when there was suddenly a knock at the front door of the castle. Both the King and his servant looked up in surprise. After slowly taking the tray off his lap and setting it on the floor nearby, Fanril began to stand when he reconsidered.

"Go answer that."

Saera, actually glad that she got to answer the door as it might mean her escape, bowed slightly and walked out of the room and to the large front doors, which degraded in condition even further due to their watery coating. Reaching for the doors, and finding the water much more willing to move than usual, she grasped the large handle and pulled the doors open. A lone Altmer, dressed in battle armor, stood on the other side of the water wall.

"Is King Fanril available?" he asked in a deep voice.

Saera nodded and ran back to the throne room.

"Your Majesty, there is a soldier outside that would like to speak to you."

Fanril nodded and stood up from his throne, walking through the large room and gesturing to Saera to follow him after he walked past her. They reahced the door quickly, and the soldier bowed when the King appeared in the doorway.

"Your Majesty, I have a report for you."

Fanril did not look all too pleased about this. "Yes, what is it?"

"A-a rebel force has attacked your soldiers stationed in Riverwatch, Your Highness."

Fanril glared at the soldier. Riverwatch was not too far away to the north; the castle was built to be within easy access of Alinor without being directly in its presence in case of an attack. Much turmoil was brewing throughout Tamriel when the castle was built, and the Aldmeri took a few precautions.

"Were you among one of the soldiers?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Oh, well... Where are my manners, then? Feel free to come in, get some rest. Perhaps you'd like something to eat? You surely must be exhausted from running all the way here."

The soldier carefully took a step forwards, then another, and a third. He stopped before the water wall.

"Go on, cross it. It won't bite."

Reaching his hand out, the soldier found the mysterious waterfall was indeed water, and quickly crossed. He was completely dry when he was inside.

"What is your name?"

"Raniril, Your Highness."

"Well, Raniril, could you tell me anything about this rebel force?"

"I... I don't remember much from the battle. They were all Altmer, of course, wearing red and gold robes. They were all very skilled, and while there were fairly few, they killed many before we captured them, and all we managed to get from them was 'Those who proclaim their might are most afraid of losing it'. O-of course I don't think you're weak, Your Highne--"

"Stop. I have heard enough. These rebels will be a blight on the Isles... Much like the failures of soldiers who were incapable of standing up to them."

"Your Majesty?"

"Perhaps the next time they appear, we will fare better."

As Fanril raised his hand, water droplets condensed, one upon another, until he had a sword made of them, hovering next to the next of the soldier. He didn't even have enough time to croak out any final words before his head was sliced clean off, the blood spurting all over himself, the floor, Fanril and the shaken Saera, who had been mostly forgotten about. In fact, Fanril was about to call for her when he turned around and saw her right behind him.

"Clean this up, if you would," said the King, walking over to the doors and closing them, his sword already gone.

Saera nodded, not quite comprehending what just happened, and went to go get a rag to clean the blood.

Tears fell upon the corpse of the soldier. They were bitter tears, full of hatred and anger, coming from Saera who quietly cried over his death and the injustice of it, and the evil monster who was sitting on the throne, still. She pounded the carpet with her fist, trying to release all her pent up anger, when it was safe and not before the monster of a King.

At least, she thought, ''those rebels escaped... With them out there, there's a chance to kill this fucking bastard monster...''

She held on to this thought as she cried, then dried her tears and began shuffling back to the servant's quarters.