A New Day, A New Life

He awoke to a splitting headache and a groan escaped his lips as his hands moved to his head. He could feel a bit of wetness on his scalp just at his temple. The soft sobbing of a woman entered his ears and he opened his eyes to see its source. A young woman crouched nearby, her knees were huddled to her chest and her eyes were locked into him, a brief instant of relief was replaced by overwhelming fear.

'Afraid of me, it seems. I wonder what I did?'

He looked her over and noticed that her dress was ripped at the shoulder seam. Her hair was a bit bedraggled and a red mark was clearly visible on her cheek.

'Hmm. I think I know what happened. But I wonder why? Am I this terrible of a person?'

He let his mind wander a moment, it was hazy, but the last thing he remembered was facing the Dark Lord Liverius. His hands went to his neck and he touched where he recalled his head leaving his shoulders.

'I died.'

Then an image of the goddess Selandria speaking to him while holding his severed head, he felt she had clutched it tenderly.

"Champion, your time is not yet here. Do not be hasty. Perform your duty well... "

My love, she did not say it, but her eyes did. He had known that fact for a long time, since the moment he had confessed his love to her in his youth. No, previous youth now, even though he carried no memories of his current body or any of the others he had inhabited.

He stood up and stretched his arms, they were muscled, not as much as his old body, but smilar enough to deal with any threat he could face here. Looking himself over, he was well built and wore a very regal looking doublet and breeches. 'Hmm. Finery, much more fine than her dress is. Noble or even royalty. Well, at least that much is an upgrade, if I remember right, I had a merchants son last time. And all of those farm boys and orphans too headstrong to get revenge correctly that only got themselves killed. ' Images and flashes of many previous selves flitted through his mind. This must have been his awakening moment. The moment when his soul recalled its true purpose.

The young woman was still sobbing uncontrollably, her shoulders heaving with every intake of her breath. He calmly stepped in front of her and held out his hand. She shrank inward and looked up at him. Even through her fear, she felt like this was a different person than she had known before. But memories of his past cruelties pushed to the fore and she believed this was some trick.

"My liege, I-"

"I'm not asking for your voice, only your hand."

He cut her short with a cold and authoritative tone while he kept his hand where it was. His demeanor brooked no argument and she found herself slipping her hand into his with only a moments thought. She had never heard her king like this, powerful and dominant, he had always been petulant and childlike. She was not truly sure what was about to happen, as she had just assaulted him with a bronze vase. Never mind he was only moments before tying to force himself upon her, he was the king, it was his right. But she refused and in a panic had snatched the nearby vase and bashed him in the skull. Now, she was suddenly supported by him, his hands staying at her elbows. He made absolutely no moves to further his wretched misdeeds towards her and led her towards the fireplace, only letting her go as he settled into a comfortable chair. His eyes stared into the fire for what felt like eternity to the poor woman.

"Remind me who I am. This will remind you as well. "

She shuddered upon hearing that chilling voice again. While it seemed to hold no emotions within, she could not help but feel a slight sadness to it.

"My lord, you jest. I indeed know who you are. "

His eyes met hers and that dominating authority returned. "I do not think you do. Say it. Say my full name and title."

Her throat went dry as she believed it was about to get worse for her. She could not help but stutter as she spoke, trying to control her fear as she did so.

"My liege, you are... His R-Royal Majesty, King, " she stopped for a moment and made a slight face, "Dagon Arcanus the First... So named after the god of strife in order to appease him during... the... the drought that lasted four years and only ending a month after your birth. The entire kingdom of Svarem is your domain upon which your word is law." The feeling of dread rose up within the more she spoke and reached a feverish level as she spoke of his word being law.

As she was speaking, King Dagon looked her over completely. Now that he could see her in the light of the fire, he found that she was indeed a good looking woman. She was young, probably in her late teens and her body was in full swing to mature fully. Her hair was a dark earthy brown, its curls naturally swinging freely and framing an extremely beautiful face. A cute looking nose above full pouting lips, though drawn thin at the moment. He admitted that she was quite attractive, her innocent face was marred by the experience she just had, but a hint of defiance could be seen within her eyes. He let his inspection of her go and thought of the consequences. If anyone found out what she had done, she would be executed. He truly did not want to see that happen, especially since it was the previously petulant Dagon that was at fault.

"So, now tell me your name and station."

She suppressed another shudder and began to speak. "My name is Imowen Dluth, maid servant to his highness."

He smiled and nodded. "Ah, so you remember yourself now. "

"Yes m'lord." Her head hung as she began to succumb to despair.

Dagon arched one brow at her sudden change in demeanor. "Head up. Time to face your fate."

He stood and placed his hands behind him at the small of his back and calmly walked towards the balcony that overlooked his kingdom. It was a comfortable position and it always seemed to carry a certain amount of gravitas. As he gazed out into the night, he could feel the land crying out in anguish. He could hear the cries of hungry children and the occasional victim of a robbery or worse.

Just from these random sounds that pierced the air, he knew that the previous King had been truly terrible. He could not help but release a sigh of sorrow and frustration. 'My goddess, why again? Did I not serve faithfully? Truly and deeply gave you my all. Everything that I was and would ever be, my gift to you. I knew you could never allow yourself to love me in return, but all I desired was to rest within your presence for eternity.' And here he stood instead, overlooking a floundering domain. 'Dagon... well, at least I have an idea of what you want here. Named after the god of strife himself. Well now, I guess this might truly be the last time. Dagon, our days are truly numbered now. My dearest Selandria, as long as I breathe I will seek your ideals and further your cause... Now, what to do about this girl?'

He turned to face her, and was surprised that she had followed him. She was only a few feet away and seemed to be waiting for him to speak, probably awaiting her death sentence. For a moment, he thought he saw a bit of confusion cross her face as well. She was expecting one of his infamous temper tantrums, fists swinging about and kicks being levied across the entire household, yet Dagon had only the faintest clue that this was the case. Though, the more he thought on it and the circumstances surrounding his revival as the memories began to return, he felt that this was surely the case.

"My tasty little Imowen. Whatever shall I do with you? Hmm?" He slyly smiled at her as he reached out and grasped a small crystal of wine. The aroma was sweet, with a hint of alcohol, it was most assuredly not cheap. The thought of himself having such niceties while his new people were probably starving, brought him a small amount of distress. Yet, he also knew he needed to keep up some semblance of appearances. There was time later for drastic changes. No, small changes first. Starting with this woman.

She shuddered again as her name left his lips. She could swear that his eyes were drinking her in as his lips drank of the wine. Images of those lips being forced upon her made her cringe in disgust, yet she forced herself to not move too much. Little was she aware, that he noticed all of this. 'Time to fix this.'

"Ring for another servant. Have them bring your things."

"My lord?"

"Have you misheard? Or are you playing at dumbness?" he inclined his head at her and raised his brows in a questioning manner.

"Of course, my king."

Imowen quickly rang a small bell on his mantle and awaited the servants arrival near the door. She gave them the order to bring her things to the royal chambers and then returned to her king's side. She was more confused than scared now, but apprehension was still a very large factor in her mind.

"My liege, may I ask why you gave this command?" she timidly queried as she stepped further onto the balcony. The cool night air gave her a chill but she tried to ignore it. After seeing him there, leaning on the railing, staring out without any semblance of discomfort, she did not want to be seen as weak again. It was a moment of weakness upon seeing his flushed and drunken face that she had aggravated him before. She could not suppress the giggle at that time, seeing him in a rather cute light, his handsome face almost like that of any other young man whom had been drinking too much. It was the innocence on his face at that moment which made her reach out and touch his cheek in a rash of impulsiveness. If only she had known that it was a ruse that he had set, pouncing upon her with a hungry look. She had noticed him glancing at her at random times and had even felt a little giddy then. A young maid-servant and a mighty handsome young king was gazing at her! She felt a blush upon her cheeks at the thought, but quickly threw it aside. She knew the truth of this monster, the rumours had been true. He was a lecher and a beast.

Dagon continued to gaze out into the night and seemed deep in thought. "Mmm?" He mused without turning to look at her.

"Why my things, lord? Why bring them here to the Royal Chambers?" She asked again, a bit more forcefully this time.

He snapped free from his thoughts, as if hearing her voice for the first time. His head turned towards her first, before he turned fully and approached her.

"What if I were to say, I wanted to change your opinion of me? To do that, you must see me at times when there are no others about, when I am at my weakest. The truth about me would only be revealed then." He stepped up beside her and took his cloak from his own shoulders and placed them around hers. "And so my pet, this is what we shall do."

'Pet? Did he just call me his pet?' She wanted to feel disgust, but the suddenness of warmth from his cloak stopped her thoughts. Her eyes turned from the floor to the man she thought she had pegged for a monster had returned to the railing, the crystal of wine long forgotten at his table in the room. Once more, he looked as if he were troubled at the world around him... had she been wrong? Was it the wine that had done this to him? Or was he playing some new game?