Unwelcomed Emperor (1)

*****

[Warning: Violent Depiction]

The carriage rattled onward, rocking softly as Argider leaned her cheek against the cool, intricately carved door.

Cheers and curious eyes followed the procession through every city they passed, as if drawn by the sheer audacity of carrying the infamous Emperor herself.

Under the polished thumb of monarchy, the towns were pristine jewels of urbanization, scrubbed and maintained to perfection.

But as they crept closer to the border, the guards took care to keep the carriage away from prying eyes, slipping through shaded forests and open plains where the trees and grasses were their only witnesses.

Even Argider felt a tickle of apprehension at the thought of a mob gathering at her heels.

They took moments to rest, to nibble on dry bread and drink from cool waterskins, though the sun above beat down mercilessly.

The trees offered blessed shade, and as they pressed ever westward, Argider felt a strange alignment stir within her—a raw, tightly coiled mixture of hope and fear that made her fingers tap impatiently on her knee.

Questions flitted through her mind like nervous birds. What had they done to her mother? Had they given her decent food, shown her an ounce of mercy? No—she squashed the thought; it could always be worse.

In darker moments, she would imagine her mother suffering in silence, starved, or worse.

Though they shared a relationship more fraught than fond, she couldn't deny that the idea of harm coming to her mother twisted something tight within her.

For all the harsh slaps and stern words exchanged, love flickered stubbornly between them, undeniable, unbreakable.

Two fog-strewn dawns later, the scenery shifted. Woods and open plains gave way to low, rolling hills flecked with scrubs and sandy patches.

Roads widened and smoothed, and soon they passed other carts—a small parade of traders carting crates of apples and bleating goats bound for the Midward Region.

With each turn of the wheels, Argider felt herself drawing closer to her mother, closer to the mystery that kept her tethered to the past.

"I don't like this," muttered a soldier beside her. "Bringing her Imperial Majesty here, with all those people wanting to see what's become of her. Or worse—someone might try something foolish, and we'll be caught in the fray."

"Quiet," a deeper, gruffer voice snapped back. "Let's prepare for what's coming, but keep those thoughts to yourself."

On the third night, as the carriage creaked to a halt, the sound of waves crashing against unseen cliffs reached Argider's ears.

She raised herself to the window, catching her breath as they rolled over a narrow wooden bridge, spanning a river that shimmered like black silk beneath the moonlight.

The beauty of it stole a breath from her; it had been too long since she'd seen anything beyond the stony confines of the Grand Palace—a place that felt as full of sorrow as these waters were of mystery.

And then, in the distance, there it was: the colossal border wall of Midward District, rising like a titan from the cliffs, stretching so high it swallowed the moon whole.

She watched as the soldiers stationed at the gates stiffened at their approach. They knew who was inside that carriage—and soon, so would everyone else.

Argider went back inside the carriage, feeling exhausted from sitting all day long.

"I am Uzak, the Emperor's right hand man," he announced, his voice loud enough that Argider could hear enough inside the carriage. "Please open the gates."

A hush fell. For a moment, all she could hear was the river lapping softly against the shore.

Then—slice!

A commotion filled the air as the distinct sound of battle reached Argider's ears. All of the birds flapped away from the scene, an ominous calling of chaos.

Sharp groans filled the air, undercut by the sickening slice of steel cleaving through flesh.

Panic seized Argider as she gripped the edge of her seat, her voice a mere whisper of fear, "What's happening?!"

"Protect the Imperial Majesty! Guard the carriage!" Uzak's voice cut through the chaos like a blade, commanding authority.

With his sword gleaming, he took his place around the carriage, bracing against the tide of violence to shield Argider from the terror closing in.

Outside, the brutal sight unfolded: heads ripped from shoulders in violent arcs, blood spattering the earth in ghastly patterns.

The horror carved itself into her memory, each detail sharper and more visceral than the last. Her stomach churned, and she fought back the urge to vomit as she huddled within the carriage.

"Ugh!"

"Argh!"

"RAAAAAH!"

Heart hammering, Argider collapsed to her knees, trembling as the raw sounds of battle—the clash of weapons, the screams, the desperate grunts—grew louder, closer.

What she had once considered an abstract fear of war now unfurled before her, horrifically real.

Outside, the clamor swelled as more attackers pressed forward. She could hear Uzak and his soldiers locked in fierce, grueling combat, their voices hoarse with effort and pain.

Overwhelmed, she shrank back, cowering as the brutal reality of war closed in around her.

"Fuck you, di-" their voice was cut off. Argider could only imagine which part of their body went off.

But she realized something; someone was heading her way and before she knew it, the carriage door opened and she was hurled into the ground like a blur.

Argider's eyes darted to the figure looming above them. At first glance, the features seemed foreign - narrower eyes, golden skin, hollow cheeks. It took a moment for realization to dawn.

"A Peliotusian?!" she gasped, shock coloring her voice.

The man above them reacted instantly, drawing his weapon and taking aim. But Argider remained frozen, paralyzed by a sudden surge of fear.

Before she could react, a sword plunged downward, impaling the Peliotusian through the chest.

A geyser of blood erupted from the wound, splattering across Argider's face. The coppery scent hit her nostrils and her stomach churned violently, threatening to expel the meager contents within.

The Peliotusian's body crumpled to the ground beside her with a sickening thud, his lifeless eyes staring blankly into the void. The sight seared itself into Argider's mind, a traumatic image she knew would haunt her nightmares for years to come.

Shaking, she forced her gaze upward, only to find Denzelle looking down at her with a soft smile, as if he hadn't just brutally murdered a man mere moments before.

"Are you alright, Your Majesty?" he asked casually, seemingly unfazed by the carnage around them.