by B. Turner
A locket that possesses a power over anyone who desires to wear it.
Fire in the night lit up the sky as a few riders in the night advanced towards far end corridor of the castle. The damp air began to feel thick the further down they began to travel. Guards surrounded the castle every inch of the stronghold. The trespassers withdrew their weapons and began to fight for what they knew was meant to be theirs. The leader, a girl, bypassed the guards and snuck into the room that was guarded.
The room was as black as night. The fire from the torch dimmed and there was limited time to execute what needed to be done. There, it was there. Whispers began to arouse throughout the room. The lone trespasser wiped sweat from her brow and nervously looked around the bricked room-no one in sight. She took the glistening locket and headed for the door.
Stepping outside, quietly tears began to fill their eyes. Blood was shed on her account. The small group that went in was now assassinated by the king’s guard. She began to cry as she realized this was for a greater purpose. Footsteps were heard from behind her. She turned around and a loud “CRACK!” … Dizziness and black consumed her, as she faded out with throbbing pain…
“Bow to me. Give all to me, your highest king, given from the gods. I was chosen to lead your people out of poverty.” A tall, lanky man appeared from behind a throne that was basking in the sun near the stained-glass windows of his hall.
“I, Rohan, the first of my name, ruler of Middle Kingdom, demand you to hand it over.” “I, uh, your majesty, do not know what you speak of.” A young girl slowly stood up from her bloodied knees, bruises up and down her arms and legs. The girl appeared to be coming into her own. Her hair was tangled into a braid and her lips were badly blooded. Rohan hissed, “the locket around your neck would say otherwise.”
The girl replied back to the king nervously, “This locket is not what you think it is, sir. It is not for the faint hearted. It is meant to be destroyed. My father has been waiting for my return with this necklace. Our mages say it is possessed with dark magic.” Rohan stepped down to the girl and smiled. “Oh, my young girl, you won’t be returning to your father. There is a high price for those that steal from the crown.”
“Kill me if you must, but I will never bow to a king who wears a studded crown of every life he has ended.” The girl shouted in anger. Rohan laughed in an evil matter, coughing and wheezing to catch his breath. “As a matter of fact. I thought I would keep you as a gift for myself and my guards for the hard work they do. You stole that from me.” He seethed, his lips cracked and crooked smile began to appear. “I know who you are, Princess. You haven’t fooled me.”