"This is how I killed my father and became king."
A beautiful, heavenly white bird glided over the town of Bandale, a city shaped in three rings divided by two rivers. The wind brushed through its sparkling feathers as it flew toward the castle. The castle stood at the very center of the rings.
The third ring, the largest, was known simply as "the Outside." This was where the struggling individuals lived—or, in the nobility's tongue, the "outside rats." It was the filthiest of the three rings.
The second ring held the middle and upper-middle classes: dukes, political figures, beast hunters, and other wealthy residents.
The innermost ring contained the castle itself. Four bridges connected the third ring to the second, but only one massive bridge led from the second ring to the castle. The bridge, like the castle's walls, was ivory white. The castle looked as though it came straight out of a fairy tale, with pristine walls and blue flags flying from four watchtowers. Yet beneath that beauty, an unsettling darkness lingered—something that felt entirely out of place.
As the bird crossed into the inner border, it landed on one of the castle's structures where it had built its nest. From there, it overlooked a courtyard and peered through a window leading into the throne room.
The throne room shared the castle's ivory walls and was decorated with portraits of past kings. A gold-and-white throne sat upon four steps, with a crimson carpet stretching from the doors to the throne's base. Rows of polished light-onyx chairs lined the floor—clear signs that this room often hosted large meetings.
Inside sat the king. He was a tall man with a handsome, pale face, wheat-blond hair, and azure eyes. His head rested on his left hand, shielding that side of his face from the bird's view. He lifted his head when one of the doors creaked open.
An elderly man entered—long grey hair, unshaved beard, heavy bags under his eyes, and a slight hunch. A large mole sat on his nose. He appeared utterly sleep-deprived. The man walked toward the throne and kneeled.
"My king… we have proceeded with the search, and we bring good news, sire."
The king remained silent for a moment before replying:
"Well… I'm listening. Don't make me waste my breath pampering you."
The man hurriedly spoke.
"Sorry, my king! Regarding the deity you ordered us to locate… we discovered the deity is not a man but a woman—or at least taking the shape of a woman. As for her current whereabouts… we still do not know, sire."
Silence hung heavy in the room.
Then the king spat angrily, "You are useless as always, Harris. You may go."
"I'll take my leave, then, sire."
"Before you go, tell Captain Theodore I want him immediately."
After a few moments, the doors opened again. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside. He was strikingly handsome, with deep brown eyes and short chestnut hair. He wore a lusterless silver-and-gold suit of armor with a crest on his chestplate reading Rank 3. A battle axe rested across his back, and he carried his helmet—decorated with golden mohawk-shaped feathers, signaling his high-ranking status—in his right hand.
He walked with pride, fully confident in himself. When he reached the throne, he did not kneel immediately. Instead, he gave a shallow bow first, then finally knelt. The king shot him a tight, displeased look.
I can't stand this guy, the king thought.
"My king, Harris told me you called for me?"
"Yes… I did. I need you to search for the deity. With help from Harris and his worthless group of rats, we learned it's in the form of a woman. We don't know if it's truly a woman or simply pretending."
The king leaned forward.
"If you find her—or it—do not harm her. Bring her straight to me. If there's even a single scratch on her, you will pay dearly. Do you understand?"
"I do, sire. Your wish is my command. Anything else?"
"No."
"Then I'll take my leave, sire."
"You may. And do not fail me. I don't have patience for another failure."
****
The castle was silent—only the sound of warm water filling a bath echoed through the room. The king relaxed in the tub after weeks of exhausting duties.
Almost four weeks had passed with no word from Theo. The king wasn't too worried; his workload kept him occupied, and, although he disliked Theo deeply, he still acknowledged the captain's reliability. Theo did not return with failures. He always did what was necessary.
Truthfully, the king wasn't even sure what he would do with the deity if Theo succeeded. Taming a power like that was dangerous—not just to him, but to the entire town.
"Well, I can always keep her locked in the underground dungeon… we'll see soon enough."
The king rose from the bath. A servant handed him a towel, and he dried himself. Then came a knock at the door.
"Forgive me, sire, but Captain Theodore wishes to speak with you."
"Alright. I'll be down in a minute."
He threw a white gown over his shoulders. On the left chest, stitched in gold, was the name: King Salis.
A servant waited outside.
"He's waiting for you in the lounge, sire."
The king nodded and began walking—until the servant stopped him.
"Sire… are you sure you want to go down there in just a gown? You're the king. You need to look the part."
King Salis smiled, his expression softening as it reached his azure eyes.
"Good point. Go make some tea and place it in the lounge. I'll change into something better."
As the king turned to leave, the servant added,
"And please fix your hair too, King Salis."
Salis let out a small laugh.
"Will do."