The Broken Calm
Ha! Plot. ^__^
Sahara listened grimly to the report, a sour feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. When the man was done, he thanked him and sent him on his way, then reached underneath his desk and tripped a hidden latch, causing a drawer to come sliding out. Inside was a thin leatherbound notebook, which he pulled out and opened, turning to a blank page and writing down all that he'd just learned. Then he turned back several pages, reading over what was written there, before shutting it and closing his eyes.
I'd hoped I was wrong.
After several moments, Sahara opened his eyes once again, tucking the book back away whence it'd come before standing and shoving away from the desk. He spared a moment to straighten his clothes, unwilling to enter the presence of the Prince of Darkness looking anything but his best, then set out for the throne room.
It was always uncertain whether or not the Prince would actually be there, of course, but it was somewhere to start, and if he was lucky Sahara would actually find him in the first place he looked.
He wasn't, but he was in the third place Sahara looked, which was the kitchens, and spent several minutes making Sahara taste various things before Sahara finally managed to convey to him that this wasn't a social call. They withdrew to a secluded corner of the gardens which was usually the fifth place Sahara tried when looking for him, settling down on a carved stone bench.
"Something is troubling you."
Sahara gave a slight nod. "I have been receiving disturbing reports for a while now, but now there is no doubt. The Light have created a weapon to kill you from afar. It is the same weapon which killed the Queen, only now it has been refined so that the assassin does not even need to be in the city."
The Prince was quiet, which was so unlike him that the knots in Sahara's stomach tripled. What could they do? The Queen had been out for a ride, surrounded by her personal guard, and between one moment and the next she was dead. They had only barely caught the killer, hidden on a nearby rooftop, but the weapon itself had been destroyed the moment the man had realized he would be captured.
No one knew how it had been done, but all thanked the Shadow that the Prince had not ridden out with her that day and was alive to take the throne. If he had died with her then, if he were to die now, it would be a disaster. The Prince had taken no Consort, and had no Heir. If he died, then the Shadow died with him.
Which was undoubtedly exactly what the Light wanted.
"She's getting ruthless," the Prince murmured, staring into the still water at his feet.
"The Light?" Sahara asked quietly.
"Before his death, my father used to tell me legends about a time before the war. Before all the hate and killing. I wish..." he trailed off.
"I think the Lord Consort's tales were just that, tales. The Light has always hated the Darkness, and always will."
The Prince sighed softly. "I know, but I can wish." He stared down into the water a few minutes longer, then got to his feet. "Find the Lord General. Tell him to meet me in the audience hall. I have plans I need to make."
Sahara watched him go, the twisting in his gut winding ever tighter with each step. Something was going to have to be done, and he was certain that, whatever it was, he wasn't going to like it.
Sahara listened grimly to the report, a sour feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. When the man was done, he thanked him and sent him on his way, then reached underneath his desk and tripped a hidden latch, causing a drawer to come sliding out. Inside was a thin leatherbound notebook, which he pulled out and opened, turning to a blank page and writing down all that he'd just learned. Then he turned back several pages, reading over what was written there, before shutting it and closing his eyes.
I'd hoped I was wrong.
After several moments, Sahara opened his eyes once again, tucking the book back away whence it'd come before standing and shoving away from the desk. He spared a moment to straighten his clothes, unwilling to enter the presence of the Prince of Darkness looking anything but his best, then set out for the throne room.
It was always uncertain whether or not the Prince would actually be there, of course, but it was somewhere to start, and if he was lucky Sahara would actually find him in the first place he looked.
He wasn't, but he was in the third place Sahara looked, which was the kitchens, and spent several minutes making Sahara taste various things before Sahara finally managed to convey to him that this wasn't a social call. They withdrew to a secluded corner of the gardens which was usually the fifth place Sahara tried when looking for him, settling down on a carved stone bench.
"Something is troubling you."
Sahara gave a slight nod. "I have been receiving disturbing reports for a while now, but now there is no doubt. The Light have created a weapon to kill you from afar. It is the same weapon which killed the Queen, only now it has been refined so that the assassin does not even need to be in the city."
The Prince was quiet, which was so unlike him that the knots in Sahara's stomach tripled. What could they do? The Queen had been out for a ride, surrounded by her personal guard, and between one moment and the next she was dead. They had only barely caught the killer, hidden on a nearby rooftop, but the weapon itself had been destroyed the moment the man had realized he would be captured.
No one knew how it had been done, but all thanked the Shadow that the Prince had not ridden out with her that day and was alive to take the throne. If he had died with her then, if he were to die now, it would be a disaster. The Prince had taken no Consort, and had no Heir. If he died, then the Shadow died with him.
Which was undoubtedly exactly what the Light wanted.
"She's getting ruthless," the Prince murmured, staring into the still water at his feet.
"The Light?" Sahara asked quietly.
"Before his death, my father used to tell me legends about a time before the war. Before all the hate and killing. I wish..." he trailed off.
"I think the Lord Consort's tales were just that, tales. The Light has always hated the Darkness, and always will."
The Prince sighed softly. "I know, but I can wish." He stared down into the water a few minutes longer, then got to his feet. "Find the Lord General. Tell him to meet me in the audience hall. I have plans I need to make."
Sahara watched him go, the twisting in his gut winding ever tighter with each step. Something was going to have to be done, and he was certain that, whatever it was, he wasn't going to like it.