The Prince's Betrayal

(A/N: I have only been back for 3 weeks and already 5 novels I'm reading have been dropped. This is stupid :(

Hope you guys enjoy the chapter, there will be 2 more this week. The discord poll was a tie so I don't know what I'll be doing.

https://discord.gg/sQvYSzk)

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I turn to Lor'Themar "Would you like to watch with me?"

He doesn't have time to answer before I put my hand on his shoulder and transfer temporary sight to him.

In our eyes, the room lit up as the echoes of forgone souls appeared in the room. The bells above rang loudly giving the room a light shake. Flower petals rained from the sky as the stands around the great hall were full of cheering people.

"The Prince has returned!" a civilian yelled.

"He has destroyed the scourge!" another said.

The room had eight guards standing at each hall with a tired-looking old man on the throne. He wore king's regalia with the crown but his face showed wear beyond his years.

Through the cheering and flower pedals walked in the one I believe to be the Lich King with a dark hood over his face. Behind him walked two men in similar dark armor and dark cloaks, they also hid their faces

When he got to the center of the room he kneeled on a single knee putting the runed sword in front of himself. Seeing that he had kneeled the king stood up with spread arms.

"Ah, my son I knew you-" The king says being ignored by his kneeling 'son'.

From beneath his hood, the prince speaks "You no longer need to sacrifice for your people. You no longer need to bear the weight of your crown. I've taken care of everything."

The prince stands up slowly looking at his father in his eyes as he slowly removes the hood. Beneath the hood is a young man with the stubble of an unshaven face. His hair looks to be fading from blond to white and his skin is almost as pale as snow.

He slow steps forwards as he wields the sword properly. With each step, the king looks more and more confused. The knights on the edges begin to step forwards but are quickly run through by the swords of the hooded knights.

The king looks around with no anger apparent on his face instead it shows confusion and sadness. The prince grabs his father by the neck of his cloak and looks him deep in the eyes.

Only then does the king speak "What is this? What are you doing my son?"

With a cruel voice that seems to echo in the small throne room, he states "Succeeding you, Father."

The runed sword is quickly driven through the king's heart as they hold onto each other. The son's eyes show no love, no remorse. Only emptiness.

With the light still fading from his eyes, the king desperately clings to the cloak of his son gasping for air. Blood leaks from his mouth as tears drop from his eyes. The eyes can only be said to be holding a deep sadness… that and a feeling I know all too well, betrayal.

The father slowly slides off his son's blade clinging to the cloak so hard it is pulled off covering his now corpse. Turning around looking outside to the cheering crowds who know nothing of what has transpired. He looks with a dead gaze, any light he had in his eyes before was now gone.

He looks at the two armored knights who had just killed the king's guards. "Kill them all."

After a brief second, he speaks again "Purge the city and raise them to fight. We march north."

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Lor'themar's usual stone face breaks as he falls to one knee coughing.

"Sorry, your talent of necromancy is abysmal so I had to try harder to give you sight," I say with a not so sorry face.

"What. was that?" He asks as he wipes his face.

"Visions of the past caught in the resentment of the souls taken that day. This land is plagued by those souls… and something else that I can't quite find." I hold my chin pondering.

"I've heard stories of that day from the surviving handful that fled. Watching it happen was completely different." He says with a harder than usual face. I can tell that the events had upset him.

"I agree, that was a rather brutal scene… If the Lich King really is awake you may not have to deal with him… I will." My eyes become colder as I speak.

He finally looks like he has put himself back together as he stretches his neck "I thought Gods had a thing against interacting with the world."

I shake my head "In my world, it was the Gods that ruled."

"Sounds awful." He mutters.

I grin "Perhaps."

As we are still standing in the throne room an undead in a wooden plague mask and purple robes walk up to us.

With a curt bow, he speaks "The Dark Lady, said to guide you to the audience chamber."

I can tell Lor'themar's mood sours "Putris."

Under the mask, I can feel the undead grin as he turns around "Follow me."

I look at the elf who just follows along still stone-faced, so I do seeing no reason not to. I have noticed that these undead seem to be unable to heal their bodies.

He leads us down to a crypt where an elevator can be seen down a short hall. One of the giant 'abominations' stands guard and my opinion of the Dark Lady drops instantly.

The elevator itself gives me a small shiver as I get flashbacks to the exact same kind in Anor Londo. I can't count the number of times that it zips down before I fully have my weight on it. If I weren't a God I would have died hundreds of times by now.

Once we are down the stone elevator the small hall opens into a grand area littered with hundreds of undead in a very city like fashion. There were stalls of goods where they shopped, labs, armories, even a bat handler who had bats the size of horses.

If it weren't for the waterfalls of green water flowing through sewer pipes and into the bottom area of the 'city' I would say it looks well made. It seems like there are two layers of the city, the upper and lower but overall it was separated into four equal portions.

The War Quarter to the northwest, The Magic Quarter to the northeast, The Rogues Quarter to the southeast, and the Apothecarium to the southwest. The Apothecarium is where the meeting hall was where the Dark Lady spent most of her time.