Each footstep he took added another layer of anxiety.
The invisible weight crushed him, warning him to turn around, but Death had decided, and nothing could change his mind. He entered the meeting hall, where he was greeted by the faces of the four regional leaders.
"Greetings to all the leaders present," he said, hoping his smile was convincing.
Of course, none of them stood to bow. They had no respect for a prince like him. "How are you, Death? Long time no see my boy." Responded the Western leader in a cheerful deminer.
Death sighed and plopped down next to him. "I'm alright, uncle. How have you been? How is Butterfly?" His attempt at small talk was short-lived because his father soon walked in.
"Greetings regional leaders," announced the king. His voice demanded respect, and on impulse, the leaders stood up to give slight bows.
"Greetings, your majesty. Long live the king, Arnold Spellweaver," they said, to which he responded to, with a smile.
"I am pleased you could all attend," he said, walking towards his seat.
"How could we not? This is an urgent matter," spoke the Northern leader.
Once everyone present was sittied, the king cleared his throat. "I summoned all of you here so we could discuss the current state of the kingdom."
There was an instant shift in the atmosphere. "Your majesty. The reports of assassinations are increasing all over the kingdom. In the East, small towns are attacked the most, and any knights sent there end up dead," said the Eastern leader, his voice laced with panic.
"I agree. Although this had started as a small-scale attack of rampant bandents, it's becoming a pressing issue," uttered the Western leader.
"These are not bandents. We are facing a real threat from skilled assassins. They appear dressed in all black from head to toe, faces covered by similar carved masks of a crow, and they carry no weapons, wielding powerful unheard of magic. Not a single one has managed to be captured, and our most skilled knights have been defeated," the king spoke, "I'm afraid we are in a moment of desperation, and the only solution I see forward is utilizing the special guardians."
"The five special guardians?" The Southern leader questioned, his eyes growing wide.
"I thought they had become nothing more than a mere legend," he said.
"Yes. Dynasty no longer needed them because of our advanced technology and strong alliances with the most powerful kingdoms outside the borders," the king responded, "however, I have monitored the special guardians since they were born. In my heart, I believed that our destined protectors would once again step up to aid Dynasty."
Death smiled. 'Is that the story we are going with now, Father?' He thought to himself.
"But… your majesty, the special guardians of this generation must be still teenagers, and they were never mentored by previous special guardians. How could they possibly defend the kingdom?" Asked the Northern leader, her voice shaky.
"That is a problem, but we have no other choice. With proper training, the magical abilities of the five could easily surpass that of skilled knights and hopefully that of these assassins," the king responded, "My son will be in charge of this mission, and he will train the young guardians."
All heads turned to look at Death, their thoughts written on their faces. He was but a teenager himself, only eighteen years old, and yet the king had put him in charge of such an important affair. To say the leaders were shocked would be an understatement, but the king's decision was final.
"I am honored to be given such a grave responsibility. I will do my best not to fail you all," Death said.
'And when I am done. You will all… bow to me.' His expression contradicted his thoughts.
He smiled warmly. "I do hope that all the regional leaders will assist in the mission."
"Of course, your highness. This matter affects us as well. Our regions have suffered gravely," the Southern leader spoke, his lips curving into a smile.
"In that case. I request that all the regional leaders lend me their best knight-detective," Death announced, startling the leaders and seemingly ending the meeting.
The leaders had agreed to Death's terms and left shortly after the meeting. It had been brief yet intense, however atleast they had come up with a solution. Death felt pleased with himself, but he knew it was only the beginning. A few were covered in that meeting about the masked assassins, but there was still so much more to the story…. Victims reported missing, commoners criticizing the king for failure to protect his people and rumors from other kingdoms, claiming that Dynasty was crumbling. It was all a big mess, one that the leaders themselves never expected. Dynasty was a kingdom of light and peace, but it was becoming a dark and horrible place.
King Arnold had heard everything about the masked assassins, and worry seemed to be eating him away day by day. It wasn't until his son had offered to personally handle this matter that he felt at ease. He was now frail and old, uninterested in these sort of problems.
"Death. How do you plan to approach this matter?" Asked the king later during their meal at dinner.
"No need to worry yourself, father. I'll come up with a suitable plan," Death spoke calmly.
"And what about the knight-detectives request? What led you to that decision?" The king asked.
Death sighed, knowing his father wouldn't let this slide.
Knight-detectives were skilled fighters who also indulged in solving crimes or mysteries. Some were guardians, but others weren't. It was a job that wasn't specific on what type of people they hired.
"I plan for them to aid me in investigating the masked assassins," Death responded.
"I understand that," the king said, "but why must you request the best from each region?"
"Each region has their own methods of training knight-detectives, which means they'll all provide unique skills. I was also planning for them to be tasked with delivering letter invitations to the five special guardians, requesting their arrival at the king's residence," he responded.
"Interesting. It seems you're truly invested in this. I must admit, I was afraid at first," said the king.
Death raised an eyebrow. "Afraid of what, father?"
"That you were just acting on impulse. Truthfully, you've never seemed interested in these sort of affairs," the king said, chuckling.
"I've grown mature," Death said, "I now care about the well-being of our people."
The king smiled widely. "I'm glad to hear that, son. You're starting to sound like a real prince."
'Starting? No. I've always been one. The rest of you never realized it,' Death thought as he took the final sip of his wine before exiting the family dining room.
"Have a good night, father," he said.
Death walked outside of the palace and leaned against a wall, gazing up at the moon. His eyes were the same set of blue as the night sky, and his hair was black like that of his late mother. It was said she loved the night just as he did, and moments like these made him wonder what she was like. How would she treat him if she was still alive?
There was a sudden faint breeze, and Death decided to take a stroll. He climbed over the palace walls and trailed off into the darkness. Although it was at night, he still chose the more quiet streets and made his way to the dark forest on the other end of town as no one went there. When he passed by some woods, he heard a scearm and stopped. Death listened for a moment before deciding to follow the sound.
"I wouldn't go there if I were you," a girl uttered, making him stop and turn around.
The only thing he saw was her silver hair, which was illuminated by the glowing moonlight.
"Who are you to tell me that? What's down there?" Death asked, squinting his eyes.
"You're very bold to be wandering around these streets at night," the girl responded, "this place has been reported to be dangerous."
He narrowed his eyes. "And yet you're walking down this path alone."
The girl walked towards him. "This is my quickest way home, but I suggest you don't go down there. Curiosity killed the cat."
She appeared to be carrying a bag of groceries. Perhaps she did live around here, but that wasn't Death's main concern.
"Good thing I'm not a cat," Death said, "and I don't believe in those silly sayings."
"Well… you might end up dead like one." She responded, walking past him, and he watched her until she disappeared into the darkness.
'Dead like cat?' He smirked.
"Now I'm more intrigued," he said then resumed his tracks and trailed towards the place he first heard the scream from. Even after the silver haired girl's warning, he was still persistent.
He was led into a pathway towards a small house. Blood was splattered on the stone pavements, and it looked as if struggling and fighting had taken place. He moved towards the house and reached the door. The screaming had completely stopped, and the tall trees loomed before him. There was only the sound of crickets and an owl sitting on a near tree branch.
Death tugged at the door, but it refused to budge. It was locked. No light came from inside, possibly because this was an abandoned property.
Feeling the magic warm his veins, he slightly placed his hand on the handle and then heard the clicking sound of the door being unlocked. Death stood for a moment, trying to peek through the slightly opened door, but couldn't make out anything as it was too dark. He finally decided to just make his way in, and the smell of rotten human flesh hit him as he took a step in.
Death fought the urge to vomit, forcing himself to continue exploring the place. He took out his phone and turned on the flashlight. The walls were covered with blood, and on the floor was a body that was torn into pieces. It was barely recognizable. He started taking a few pictures, asking himself, 'what had happened?'