The Contract

"Bring my daughter to me immediately, please." A well-dressed, well-shaved, and articulate man demands with anger as he grinds his teeth and gestures with his index and middle finger by motioning his fingers towards himself. He has a beard that falls lower than his knees as he sits down on a throne surrounded by numerous guards kneeling before him.

"Our benevolent king Bilomp, please forgive us but, the princess left to the ground a little under a month ago," The young knight states whilst he kneels. He breaths heavily as sweat drips from his forehead to the ground slowly, wetting the white carpet laid across the room. His heavy armor begins to take its toll as he quivers while attempting to keep his posture.

"Why was I not told of this-." Bilomp is distracted by the soldiers' actions.

His armor rattles; his face turns beet red, he finally collapses onto the carpet. The guard begins to bleed from his armor, staining the carpet red. It continues to drip and nearly reaches the king's beard as he pulls it back from the puddle in shock.

"Quick! Someone get him a medic! What are you all sitting there twiddling your thumbs for?!" The king jumps from his seat and rips off the sleeves of his white gown; he rips off the armor his soldier wore and began to bandage him."

Surrounding guards come to his aid as they lift the man from the king's presence to an infirmary.

"Damnit... this is my fault. I've been pushing you all far too much recently. I'm a father; I can search for my daughter myself."

The room begins to clear; the final soldier leaves, the king sits on his knees in silence, staring at the blood on the carpet. He carries himself off of the ground walks to a wall with a mirror on it. His hand glows with a yellow light that sparkled across the mirrors of his home; he glares at himself in the mirror before punching himself in the gut. He nearly coughs up blood; his ribs sting from the impact. He hits himself again. His bones crack as he continued punishing himself.

He pukes onto the mirror as he saw his own weary eyes staring back at himself. He punches the mirror, breaking it and the wall it clung on. "Why do you force me to do this!?" He stares at his shattered reflection. "I'm not a tool you can use freely to do your dirty work; get out of my mind!" He punches down on the glass as it bloodies his knuckles. He continues punching the glass as it shattered, his face becoming more fragmented with each slam.

"I've done everything you've asked for so, leave me and my people be! Let us live in peace!" Whispers crawl through his mind. They continue speaking to him in a hushed tone as they continue to grow in number. "I'm not done? They're all gone; what else do you want!" Bilomps feels his head aching, nearly splitting as he hears the voice whisper again before he could utter out another word.

"There are three left!?" Bilomp smiles; he stops punching the glass and looks at a single shard of glass on the ground. "So there is still hope for them?" He says calmly while his hands leak blood, drip by drip onto the glass and carpet. "A mere three of them won't threaten you or me, so why do you want them dead so badly!?" He begins to rub his head viciously as blood poured onto his sleek blonde hair.

Bilomp comes back to his senses as the voice speaks to him once again. His hands shake not from the pain or the shock; they quivered out of anger. "They did what to my daughter!?" Bilomp's body gleams with an intense yellow hue, illuminating his entire body as the shrapnels of glass exited his wounds.

"Where is she?!" He waits for the voice to respond. As it does, shock, fear, and melancholy falls over his face simultaneously. Shadows fill his eyes as the life that resided in them faded.

"Take me to him," Bilomp requests as he began to walk out of his room. The empty halls seemed to echo with each step he made. The silence was snuffed out by each step Bilomp made. He continued down the corridors of his castle as he neared the two doors that separated himself from the outside world. The sun shines brilliantly as he makes his way to the bridge.

"Let me go! Do you know who my father is?!" A young lady cries out as she lays on the ground, bound by rope.

"Do you know you even know who your father is, Bisol?" Another woman speaks out as she begins to tease her.

"Knock it off, Jaya we don't have time to fool around. We carry the will of our father with each step we move and every breath we take."

"When did you become such a hardass?" Jaya responds as she kicks Bisol and walks past her brother whilst nudging him.

"Why not just live a simple life? Have you ever thought that now may not be the time, Baylos?"

"Nine-teen generations, we are the last battalion of our people Jaya. Everyone else is dead, even those we sought to save. If we don't act now when will we?" Baylos stated while he walked towards Bisol as she stared on at the two in silence, attempting to conjure her magic.

She manages to conjure a small amount of light magic shoots it at Baylos, he catches it in his hand as his hand gleamed with a purple aura, without flinching, and crushes it in his hand. Sprinkles of light disperse over his face as he shews it away.

"W-what!?" Bisol cries out as her struggling began to grow and dread filled her mind.

"I'm am the descendant of Bemoul, I have some questions for you, descendant of Macius. Why did you kill our people when we had made a contract?" Baylos says as his calm expression contorted into anger in the blink of an eye. Veins began popping up and his face turned red from the rage he exuded. He knelt down to the ground to meet eyes with the helpless woman as she began to sweat.

"What contract?!" Bisol retorts in confusion as fear swept over her mind.