I'd be sharing a novelette I wrote last year here on this thread out of sheer boredom. Please, do drop your comments and opinions as the story progresses. It is still in manuscript format too so there might be a few errors here and there. As a result of the language of the piece, it is not advisable for audiences under the age of 16.
All rights reserved.

CHAPTER ONE

"It's a book in which you write your personal experiences and thoughts. Documentation, if you have taken a liking to big words like myself. It is important that I make put the details of my undertaking in writing for I am not sure to be alive at the end of it and frankly speaking, it would be quite a buzz kill to spare the world the original version of the events that are about to change it's history forever.
I have almost nothing. It has always been that way. I say this because, perhaps, it will help you understand why I must do what I must do. I have always had almost nothing. No friends, no family, no belongings..nothing. I do not wish nor expect you to understand that because unless you were born as I was, raised yourself like I did and have become tasked with a mission like I am, you cannot. My name is Ekdikisi and it is, along with the parchment on which it was written, my only possession.
They say mother died at my birth and left me with a scrap of parchment on which she scribbled my name. It was the only gift she could afford her newborn and it is priceless. For it defines my life as I know it. After she was hunted down by the mercenaries of the Old Queen and went into premature labour, I had been on the run. I had been passed from one caregiver to another until I attained the age of four. It was then I became my own caregiver. I had lost everything up to that point and had nothing else to lose but myself. Until my mission is complete, that cannot happen. After the last family who took me up were murdered by the mercenaries and I managed to escape again, my mission became clear. I have worked and walked towards it since then. I have learnt from the best.
I remember him..clearly..
Harakiri. They say he was the best in the Allied Kingdoms. I say he was the best in all of the gods' damned earth. He was the most revered mercenary warrior of all time. You wanted a job done: a rival merchant dealing in bad faith, a blackmailing concubine gone too far, anything or anyone that needed fixing anytime in anyhow; you had enough gold, he fixed it. He built the meanest mercenary band from nothing, literally. He simply captured boys and recruited them. Then, they killed one other in a groups of a dozen until the last man standing. Then, he trained. He never made a mistake. His mercenaries never made a mistake, not even in training. Mistakes meant death. Cold, cruel death. Perhaps it was poetic justice that his first and only mistake, which was recruiting me, lead to his death. I am not a boy..or a man.
But that was not his first mistake..not even his second.
After years of rigorous training and servitude, after absolutely assuring myself that I had learnt everything there was to learn from him. I had no alternative but to eliminate him. There cannot be two best mercenaries in the land. It was a final battle worth every iota of a warrior in him and in me. I could not fail. He had made the mistake of accepting the job of eliminating me no matter the cost. He had made the second mistake of accepting that I was dead without making sure of it. He had made the third mistake of assuming that I was a boy.
As my sword plunged in and out of his chest with lightning speed, I knew my great undertaking had begun. After I accomplished it, the Allied Kingdoms and the world at large would change forever. It is a task of patience and I have the luxury of time. It has taken fifteen years but I have finally found my father.
My task is now in motion. It is Ekdikisi and I cannot fail. That is good for me. That is bad for him. They say it is a sign the gods are with a person when the first phase of their endeavour is a success. That is good for me. That is bad for him. As I approach the Great City, I decided to start to chronicle the events that would follow from now. It is quite simple for an undertaking so elaborate. It is in three stages and I have accomplished the first.
Find Him..Reunite with him..Kill him."

Wow!!! Am speechless

Slendercutie:
Wow!!! Am speechless

Thanks Ma'am. Second chapter coming right up.

CHAPTER TWO
Howard Dwight of the Great City Border Battalion, Northern Gate, was having a perfectly normal day. He woke up at the sixth hour of the day a bowed to his north; to the direction of the throne of the Emperor, had a wash for the damned fun of it, drank some oak-bark beer, yelled at a couple of recruits laughing their armour off to whatever obscene joke they had just heard and settled down to work at the border, if it could be called that. The damned migrants never came this way. Even with the current heavy influx of hundreds of young men from all over the Allied Kingdoms, they had not screened a soul in since the last full moon and it was hardly surprising.
The Northern Gate of the Great City is something of a legend in itself. It is said to have been reinforced by every Emperor that ever ruled the Great City. Only it withstood the plundering of the Great War and is said to home to the meanest men in all the Allied Kingdoms who answered to no man but the Emperor himself. They were perhaps the reason why the Rulers of the other Cities kept the alliance. Any attempt to rebel would ultimately mean having to deal with the men of the Northern Gate. That made for quality nightmare material.
Howie the "Showie" as Howard was jocularly called resumed his duty and started to man his post. By noon he would be relieved of shift and would then visit the buttery for some of that splendid beer again. It felt to him like exactly the kind of drink he needed to sit down after such a lethal dose of boredom and complain about everything. Except the beer. He couldn't complain about such an excellent beer as the one he had earlier in the morning but he would complain about everything else. He missed the Great War and longed for some action. Boredom and Old Age do not mix well. In a few years, he would be required to retire and that was just too bad. He considered himself one of the finest soldiers in Allied Kingdoms. It wasn't his damned fault he never got promoted beyond this borders. His damned luck was against him and he had had his way with that fine virgin during the Great War. Well, she had it coming, the little brat. Always swinging her waist while she brought him relief food. How was he to know she was a virgin? How was he to know she was the Emperor's tribute? It was by sheer luck he had escaped with his head intact and 36 moons of solitary confinement. Promotion be damned!
It was almost noon and time for his shift to end when he saw a youth been screened from the 50 yards perimeter boundary that had been setup before the wall. Anyone tried to start something there and it gave the archers enough time and space to turn them into a porcupine before they even got close to the gates. Apparently satisfied that the only things that the migrant had to cut with was his teeth and fingernails, they passed him and he began to walk slowly towards the gate. He looked intimidated. Good. Howard could do with some picking on.
"Halt!", he bawled on top of his coarse voice, fixing the lad with a stare that would have bored through the Emperor's finest armour. It seemed to have worked because the boy swallowed hard and blinked furiously.
"State your name and mission" continued Howie. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. "My name is Pete. Pete Rosenberg of the Lesser Yorkshire and I've come to compete in the Annual Jousting Tournament".
Howie sighed as he fished out the register to file the piece of information he had just been given. He was once exactly like this. Eager to enlist in the Tournament and wishing to the gods that he be enlisted in the Army of the Emperor. He looked at the kid and softened up a bit. He was good looking. Too good looking for a lad, infact. One of those soft pretty boys from the middle of nowhere who have always dreamed of looking fancy in the armour of the Emperor's Army. As he handed him a name tag bearing his name and mission, he noticed the boy had a waist so feminine that it reminded of the girl from the war and his fingers closed in what was unmistakably a few coins. The lad smiled weakly and said "The Gods bestow me your luck, Sire. Thank you for being so kind and you can get yourself some fine beer with that token". Howie beamed delightfully. He liked this kid.

Hours later, behind the walls of the Great City, Ekdikisi settled herself in the room she had lodged in and began to write again.

CHAPTER THREE

He woke up with a start for the umpteenth time since about a fortnight ago. The dream..nightmare was the same as usual, a little variables here and there, all adding another degree of horror to it. A blood-curling high pitched cry, a rustle of wings, the swift movement of a treacherous dagger and blood. A lot of blood.
He arose slowly from the king-size four poster bed that looked a total shadow of the well-laid bedplace that it was a few hours ago. He would have to make it look neater. Even his most trusted aides must not have a single clue that his nights were being restless. He walked around the large space that served as his bedroom. Such a waste of space. It was more of a confinement than anything else. Everything was paved in gold, impersonal and separated. Damned Midas! He longed for some sort of company. Some soft, tender touch of a female. His Empress...no, that was too painful a thought. Even his numerous concubines started to bore long, long ago. They all cowered and shivered at his touch. Always too willing..no damned, sexy resistance. The gods be damned!
He remembered her, the only one who ever resisted him. Resist she did, damnit! What wouldn't he give to have her by his side now? The feel of her reluctant touch. He shuddered with delight at the mere thought. Or maybe the child she had. That unfortunate child! No..he shouldn't think of such. Thinking be damned!
He tried to control his panic. It was perhaps a good thing he was having these dreams. A warning from the gods, perchance. Well, damnit. He always knew the alliance was formed as a compulsive necessity rather than a peaceful agree. Only the military might of the Great City kept the alliance together. Even as they subjected to him, one day, he knew someone would get ideas. He was already getting reports that those knaves from Lesser Yorkshire were training a rebel army. Or the assassin that was porcupined some moons ago at the Northern Border. He smelt of Mubi, the spice of Outlands. There was no way of knowing what other little schemes and ideas the others were dreaming up.
Well, the bastards had better try hard. If they thought he got to this position by thinking up little schemes and fancy ideas or would let go of it for such, they were in for a damned little big surprise. If they thought he wasn't more than prepared for their lousy, whimsical attempts to snatch at his throne and scatter what he had gathered for the better part of the past ten years, they'd better be prepared for a damned good show.
Feeling much more relaxed and better for it, he started to consider his security detail. His army could take on the other three and utterly defeat them without breaking a sweat. He had the full loyalty of his subjects..the damned butt-lickers were probably bowing a nice, hallowed good morning to his throne from all over the Allied Kingdoms at the moment. His personal aides were the finest handpicked soldiers in the land and could pick off an good army with any luck. There was himself too. That was threat enough. Why then did he get the feeling he was missing a thread. In two days, the Tournament would begin and...
Of course, the damned tournament! It was the thread he kept missing and the gods be damned! It was quiet the miss. Every year, the winner of the Annual Jousting Tournament joined his retinue, became his aide and pledged optimum loyalty to him. His most trusted band of the freaking best in the land! What better way to infiltrate his ranks and stage a possible assassination? The more he considered it, the more he concluded that it is quite what he would have done. It was risk-free as well as a method that would have the luxury of time. The rat could wait a year..wait for two, maybe ten; but one day and surely, he would try to assassinate him. He was now very much convinced that one of the Kingdoms had sent a mole yo participate in the Tournament and win. Those punks were getting smart, the nerve of it!
Well, he now knew what they were up to and would be on the lookout. Apprehension gripped him as he considered the thought over. The chance would be to eliminate the luxury of time. The opportunity had to present itself quickly enough but not too quickly. There would be a trap and he would be the bait. Then, he would wait. Wait for the hunt to bite. A wise prey lures the hunter into becoming the hunted. It would have to need some thinking over..
With a wolfish smile set on his face, he sat down by his bedpost and began to plot.

CHAPTER FOUR

The young man called Ophir observed the giant sundial and saw that he had half an hour before facing the Pete lad in the final. He peered out of the sole window of the bivouac that lodged him and absorbed some of the sunshine. It had rained earlier and the energy of the sun felt quite refreshing. He then moved quickly away from it. He couldn't get accustomed to any form of comfort till his work was done.
He considered his reflection on the "little-too-polished" sword lying idly on the desk in front of him. So far, he had done a good job. After his compatriot Outlander had botched the first mission, his ruler was somewhat reluctant to approve another. Two consecutively foiled attempts on the life of the Emperor wouldn't go unnoticed. Sooner or later, they would find out that it was the Outlanders who had sent the both. That would spell disaster. He recalled the last instructions he recieved from his commander before embarking..
"Should you fail, there's a very slim chance of it, you must erase every trace of culpability from the "outlands". Your cloak is concealing a small souvenir to help you do so. You cannot be arrested or interrogated. You know what to do..better yet, do not fail. You are dismissed".
Well, he hadn't. Not yet..neither did he intend to. He considered the Pete lad and felt a pinch of pity for him. Outlanders took no prisoners. Up until the finals, every contestant to have faced him had not disappointed. That was expected, only the best of the best competed for a place in the Emperor's inner circle. The rest survivors were drafted into the army which was still an achievement to be reckoned with. But no one who had faced him yet had survived. Not even the Pete lad would.
Pete. A nice kid name. He certainly wasn't one of the ones Ophir would have banked on from the beginning and that was hardly surprising. The kid just didn't look the part. He certainly didn't look the fight too..
But somehow, he kept winning. By a combination of what looked like a lot of luck..a little skill and a little element of nothing, the kid somehow managed to win his matches. He was also good on the defence, Ophir mused as he continued his mental exercise. He would have to watch that defence. In the end, he decided on the best strategy to work with. A well-executed, non-stop, all-out attacking barrage could break through any defence with time. Somehow the defence would crack. Then, he would strike..and that would be the end of it.
He thought of the element of luck too. Noise had begun to fill up the arena. Soon, he would be called up to compete. It probably wouldn't hurt to have the gods on his side now. As he knelt down in a solemn supplication to Ares, the God of War, he thought of his fallen compatriot and mustered a smile that did not reach the corners of his eyes. In the very worst, at least the bastards wouldn't not take him alive.
Ophir was still praying when his name boomed across the arena. He arose slowly, picked up the scabbard of jade that covered his razor-sharp sword and stepped out into the sunshine..

******************************************************************************************

"Pete Rosenberg!"
Ekdikisi walked gingerly into the arena. She had spent the last few hours updating her journal and planning her strategy. So far, all had gone according to plan. She had succeeded in portraying the image of the scared little underdog that kept getting lucky. That was good. The least dangerous she looked, the better she was for it. As she squared off with Ophir, she bowed as a sign of respect and smiled a little. He bowed back but did not smile, or frown..or show any sign that he had noticed her. In fact, but for the fact that he drew his sword, he might as well have looked like she wasn't there. Tough guy, she thought and then smiled some more.
She drew and squared off with him. It wasn't long before he began to attack. That was expected. She was already used to the sequence and was solely defending. The time to attack was yet to come. Then, she sensed it. The slowly-building panic that came from pent up frustration. But it wasn't yet the time. They were moving..dancing in a rigid circle of sorts while he kept defending in the shade provided by the surrounding onlookers. Slowly she danced him out of the shade into the bare sunlight. He moved in a hurry to strike her, banking on the decreased visibility the shade now offered her. That was when she blocked..and struck.
She parted the helm of her garb at angle as raised her sword in a basic defensive stroke. It all happened in a flash. Ophir saw what clearly looked like the outline of the sides of the female breasts and was stunned beyond reason. His grip softened as his brain tried to understand what his eyes just registered. Ekdikisi drew a sharp breath and turned his own sword against him, reflecting the overwhelmingly bright sunlight into his naked eyes. Ophir blinked furiously. It was the end for him..
Before his eyes absorbed the shock of the light and reopened, he was on his back with a edge of a rapier pointing at his chest. The arena erupted. He had lost. He had failed.
At least, he was prepared for this eventuality. How was he to know he was going toe to toe with a master artist. That finish was a classy work of art. How was he to know Pete Rosenberg had breasts..tiny breasts, but breasts all the same. The gods be damned! Freaking Ares! How stupid could he have been to have prayed to that nut job anyway!? She was smiling at him again. Damnit!
At least, he was prepared for this one. The bastards wouldn't recruit him. It was too dangerous for the Outlanders. He knew what he had to do. They would remember his sacrifice. A bird flew over as he reached for his souvenir.
A blood-curling high pitched cry, a rustle of wings, the swift movement of a treacherous dagger and blood. A lot of blood.

Four chapters to go

i am enjoying this. Continue

CHAPTER FIVE

They both slowly sipped the cinnamon tea without a word. From across the table, the Emperor, Megaleio Hegemon stared fixedly the at person who sat at the opposite end of the long dining table. Person. He did not know how else to describe it.
It was a masterpiece, that finish. To the ordinary eye, it might have seemed a counter move that got lucky. But, his were no ordinary eyes. With an uncanny knack for registering every little detail, he had observed the final match keenly. It was a good thing he had the best seats in the arena, perks of throne. It was a good thing he had laid more women than all the men in his service combined. Immediately the garb parted, he saw what was unmistakably the petal of a budding flower. It took him less than a split second to process what had seen, but he had. It intrigued him.
He had suspected that the contestant from the Outlands was the mole and it was not a wrong assumption. That was the only explanation for his suicide. It would have been too risky for him to have been conscripted into the Army. Somehow, somewhat, he would have been investigated and his cover would have blown up in bits. Pity! Hegemon longed for a reason to wipe out those treacherous outlanders for good.
What he did not anticipate nor suspect was that there had been two moles. He knew the girl was not from the Outlanders. They never operated in groups. Greater and Lesser Yorkshire hadn't the sense to have drummed up such a brilliant scheme. If the girl was a mole, it had to be a personal vendetta. That would surprise him. He had made himself quite a number of enemies during the since his reign had begun. Someone might have decided to be a hero. Well, he was on to them.
But, he thought, was it possible that he was over-thinking? She had disguised to enter the Tournament in truth, but, wasn't there the possibility that she was a mere extremely good opportunist? He frowned slightly as he considered the thought. Perhaps his dreams were beginning to make him paranoid. No. The moment he began to question his own judgement, he would abdicate the throne. He would find out for himself. She, no matter how witty she might appear or be, would reveal her true self under his interrogation. He was sure of it.
Fixing a faint, political smile on his face, he looked over the table again at the girl who had neither spoken nor raised her head since he had invited her to share a congratulatory cup of tea with him, apparently appraising the situation as he was and cleared his throat loudly.
As she raised her face, he got a more intense look at her at her and curiously found that she had almost exactly his eyes. Something about that face nudged his memory. He would consider it later. Here was the moment of truth.
"It is my hope that you found the tea pleasant. It was specially brewed for the occasion", he said, not taking his eyes off her face. That face looked vaguely familiar.
"Thank you, My Liege"
Without a note of flourish, he started: "I have an utmost trust in my inner circle to which you're about to become a part of. There are only two rules, as a matter of speaking. The first is that you shall pledge allegiance to me. I shall be your Lord and Commander. On no account shall this allegiance be broken, even on the pain of death"
"With my life do I pledge allegiance to you, My Liege"
"That is good. The second is like it. You shall answer to no man but me and you shall obey every single directive I give you. Whether it appeals to your better judgment or not, whether it appears reasonable or otherwise. If I command you to run, run you must. If I command you to jump, you must jump kas high as the heavens. If I ask you to save, you must rise and save like the gods. If I command you to kill, you must destroy like a plague. Do you agree to the these terms?"
If she was shocked, she didn't show it as she replied, "To the best of my abilities, Great Hegemon, Emperor of the Allied Kingdoms, will I adhere strictly to your requirements even on the pain of death"
He smiled. It was confirmed then. This is no skilled opportunist. This right here, was a skilled, deadly force of vendetta with a grudge running deeper than the oceans. What else could explain the change in moral fiber..from a fair, timid warrior boy who won the Tournament based on a lot of perceived luck to this cold-blooded killer who was ready to strike at a moment's notice in front of him? He smiled some more
"I do thank you for your allegiance. It is because of the skill of extraordinary youths such as yourself that the fragile threads of peace in the Allied Kingdoms hold together and strengthen with each passing moment. I'd request that you be included in my personal guard corps. Take the rest of the week of and resume on the first day of the next. I expect great things from you, Pete." He paused and then continued, "Very great things. You are dismissed."
She bowed out of the dining room as the Emperor continued smiling fixedly at her. For the first time since she began her mission, Ekdikisi felt uneasy.

CHAPTER SIX

~It had been quick, full of struggle and disagreeable. But what a prince wanted, a prince got. He had had his with her and she now disgusted him. In a hurry he threw her out of his quarters and instructed his guard corps never to allow her anywhere near him in the future. What good was she anyway? A mere servant. His mere presence gracing her aura should have melted every iota of resistance she had to offer. But, it didn't. If anything, it fueled her hatred for him. He had clearly saw her hatred for him in her eyes. They shone with disgust, a kind of hatred not borne of anger but a sheer irritation at his air of arrogance and megalomania. It amused him at first. Even aroused him. Not anymore. He was disgusted with her..with himself.~

His feet gave way under the effect of the realization his thoughts had just registered. That face! The air in the room suddenly became moist, damp and somewhat suffocating. As he crashed to ground, he felt a sudden throbbing stab of pain in and it took almost every ounce of self-control in his being to have stopped him from crying out in agony. It felt as though his heart was out of place.
Long ago, before he had become emperor and had united the Allied Kingdoms, he had met a serving maid, war tribute of the Old Queen. He had taken a liking to her and wanted her for himself. He could have had any other servant. They fell over themselves for the infamous night with the prince. But that had been the problem. The maid was very different. She had oft' regarded his advances with disgust and obeyed his orders as a mere necessity. That only intrigued him. One day, he thought, he would he would deal her a hand.
He did just that. It was one of his worst lays ever. It hardly ended well too..
Somehow, she had carried the fruit of that singular union. Somehow she was delivered of it. That was the origin.
According to the bylaws of the Great City, no member of the royal family can be a female. Any female born into Royal family was killed at birth or the news got out and that bloodline lost it's right to the throne. Hegemon had secretly hired mercenaries to take care of the situation. But when the servant had been delivered of child and news of the unhealthy baby girl and the servant's death had reached the palace, Hegemon had immediately told the Old Queen.
The Old Queen. Her ruthlessness daunted Hegemon at times. Enraged at him for making such a horrible mistake she had nonetheless promised to handle the situation. After eliminating all involved in the situation apart from herself and the prince, she had made sure to hire the finest of mercenaries to hunt down the ill fated child. It was a long search but they had finally gotten to her..or so they'd thought. Now, that child was back, with a vendetta coursing through her very veins. Pain seared through his chest again.
He suddenly felt a weight of guilt settle over him. Rape, murder, sabotage..all were sins he wouldn't have pardoned any of his subjects and now, he was guilty of each and every single one. The abandoned product of his youthful exuberance had come home to roost. Despite his wife and numerous concubines, he had no son to his name. No son meant no child..the others had been killed at birth. No child meant the end of the bloodline he had shed so much gore and sweat to protect and now..his own blood would wipe him out without a trace at any moment.
The pain subsided and his head started to clear. This is it. If he did manage to escape this vendetta, somehow, he would still be killed. He had made to many enemies to live a long life. Somehow, he would put a step wrong and would be killed. Then, he would be without a throne and a bloodline. The situation would have to be managed better than that. Even if he had to be casualty.
To protect his bloodline, to atone for his sins, he knew what had to be done. He now had a son, a daughter pretending to a son, but a son nonetheless..damnit! He put a firm hand to his throbbing chest as if to silence the throbbing pain that had begun to gnaw at him again. Somehow, it seemed to obey.
Feeling a moment's respite, Hegemon sat by his bedpost and began to plot again.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"My work is nearly done. Like every idea, dream or purpose pursued zealously, it has so far worked out fine excluding a few glitches, but that is neither here nor there. I have succeeded in breaching the guards and entering the Tournament, in winning and in gaining an access to the personal guard corps of my father. Now, there is but one more success left. But before then, it is fitting that I let you, possessor of this journal, understand why my mission was born.
Authority, when first detecting chaos at its heels, will entertain the vilest schemes to save its orderly facade. The pawn of power-play is not the King on his throne, nor the Queen in her palace nor the fat priest in his billowing robes nor the knight in his armour. It is the trader in his marketplace, the child on the streets and the mother in the fields. The irony of power is in the fact anarchy wears two faces, both creator and destroyer. Thus destroyers topple empires; make a canvas of clean rubble where creators then can build another world and then, toasts to the desolation of the world as it is known. Since mankind's dawn, a handful of oppressors have accepted the responsibility over our lives that we should have accepted for ourselves. By doing so, they took our power. By doing nothing, we gave it away. We've seen where their way leads, through camps and wars, towards the slaughterhouse.
The people weep. Their voices rent the air and shatter the ominous calm and sickening silence. But, our masters have grown deaf. Our masters have not heard the people's voice for generations and it is much, much louder than they care to remember. Our masters have shut their ears to the voices that cry out in agony and pain because of the burns from the fires lit from their little big schemes.
Mine is a personal vendetta. But it is also a public vendetta. A vendetta for my murdered mother..and for the countless mothers and fathers that have been mindlessly murdered by the schemes and machinations of the uppermost echelon. A vendetta for my rejection and scarred upbringing..and for all that were rejected and scorned and push to the streets by their parents because of the helplessness caused by the hardships and pains inflicted on them by the deaf rulers.
If they will not hear, they surely will see. Or feel. That is what I will become. The eye-catching, crippling pain in the heart of hearts of the deaf, cruel elite. The voice that is audible to the deaf, visible to blind..a voice of pain. A voice that will inflict pain. Inflict pain and anguish and liberate the people. Put out the destroyers, liberate the creators and call forth a new world.
I am ready!"
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Megaleio Hegemon clenched his fists as he mounted a mental assault to ward off the threads of drowsiness snaking through his mind. He had been up for most of the night plotting and rethinking his plots for possible leakages. One of the reasons he had been able to unite the Allied Kingdoms and had prospered it into the most powerful and dominant habitation on the face of the earth was his ability to plot. With an uncanny ability to itemize, analyse and prepare for every possible outcome to a knotty situation, he was always one step ahead of his enemies and that had served him well.
Now, sitting by his bedpost and turning the issue over in his mind's eye, he was more than convinced that he had done everything right. Most of the scenarios involved his death but that did not bother him. His time was already upon him and he knew it. Soon, the claws that were tugging at his heart would strike one final blow and that would be it. Perhaps it was sheer providence from the gods that the whole affair would end as it was about to.
He peered out of his window which had been specifically designed to provide a bird's eye view of almost every part of the Great City. He had accomplished this, he thought, partly marvelling at the splendor of the view before him. Castles, Courts, Fortresses, Gates, Garrisons..even the marketplace. Everything looked every bit of the vital organs of a setup poised for greatness as the great city was. He had built this, and now, he would secure it's future. He opened the safe containing the centerpiece of his plots and felt a calming relax course through his very veins. He afforded himself the luxury of a smile. Soon, the time would come to put his plans into action. Very soon. For now, there needs be time to rest.
With that thought, he eased himself unto the comfort of his bed and soon drifted off into a calm slumber.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ekdikisi cast a sharp look over the boulder she had just scaled. It would have been a fatal mistake if she had been followed. The foliage stretch before the perimeter made for an excellent camouflage and she intended to be make maximum use of it. She had successfully taken note of the security detail of the Northern Gate during the time she had first passed through as a tournament entrant. The wide expanse of untrimmed grass made for a perfect hunting ground for an archer, from above or beneath. But it also made for a perfect camouflage pattern for a stealthy creeper. As she twisted and turned her way through the grass, she bypassed the perimeter and kept moving. It wouldn't do to show herself until she'd got to the palace. The key was secrecy and stealth. She got close enough and spotted the guard on duty. He was the same one she had met on her first passing. It was a pity that he'd have to be casualty. Risking a face-off might draw attention to the fact that she was in the wrong place and create awkward scenarios. That wouldn't do. She placed the convertible bow cum scabbard on a vantage position and took aim.

Howie was having a bad day. It had been enough work at the border without this sudden instruction to tighten up security and report any abnormalities observed back to the Emperor's retinue who were on their annual training campout, a few miles away from the borders. The Emperor had also secretly called off the archers manning the border for a reason unknowable to him. Damned dung! He felt naked without the snipers. If trouble was on it's way they were more than capable of picking it off before it got within fifty yards off his personal space. This wasn't the kin of action he longed for.
At least, he had this damned horn. If there was an incident, he was to blow on it and the Emperor's retinue would be swarming the area like ants. He had also positioned all of the damned soldiers at the perimeter. Damnit! Better them to face what was coming than him. He hadn't concluded that thought when a swishing sound pierced through his chest and stuck out on his back. He tried to reach for his horn before another arrow hit him squarely in the forehead. He felt an excruciating pain before his world went black.

Ekdikisi approached the fallen body cautiously. The horn and unusual change in the security apparatchiks of the Gate alerted her sixth sense of an impending danger. She had expected return fire from the snipers which was why after taking aim, she had tied bowstring to a tug and had pulled from another position. That way, whatever counterstrike would have been concentrated on the position of the bow and not hers. But, there had been no counterstrike. That wasn't too worrisome. She had already breached the gate's security. She shed her camouflage and examined the female piece pf clothing she had brought along as part of the mission. It fitted her perfectly. Good. Her usual key weapon was the element of surprise. It was how she'd won the Tournament and it was how she intended to kill the mindless Tyrant and eleminate his bloodline forever. She would appear before him in her true form. Not as Pete Rosenberg but as the child he rejected. As the girl child he valued less than his lust for the throne. Not as a guard in his retinue but as a voice, the voice of vengeance and vendetta..as Ekdikisi. That was the element of surprise..the ace in her pack of cards. That would strike the fear of the gods in his evil heart and if the shock didn't kill him..she would.
She examined her blade and saw that it would need some sharpening. She had walked a considerable distance from the border by now and was now in the streets of the city. She pulled a veil over her face that revealed only her intense, green eyes and a fraction of her nose. Eyes that were so alike to those of her father's. If the old dimwit had not been so occupied with recruiting her and obtaining her pledge of allegiance, he might have actually noticed that their both eyes were an exact copy. It was by a stroke of luck that he had been non-observant and she had the common sense to have kept her head down, she thought.
She walked into the marketplace and quickly signalled to a knife grinder and moved into a shadowed area. As the grinder collected her sword and began to sharpen it with priceless precision, he threw her a sharp, curious look. That wouldn't do, she thought and smiled through the veil. Panic gripped the man as he hastened and endeavoured to be quickly finished with the sharpening. He recognized her. Or him. The boy from the Tournament. What was he doing as a girl? He was jolted out of his thoughts as he noticed that the sword was a little too sharp now. The lady or boy was still smiling as she handed him his fee and collected the sword. He started to hurriedly walk away but had not fully turned when he momentarily saw the flash of the sword and reached for the back of his neck. There was a gash of steady flowing scarlet there. He felt faint and fell.
Ekdikisi stepped out of the shadows. It was a pity that she had to kill him but he had recognized her. That wouldn't do. It would have jeopardized her mission if the Knife grinder had left to mouth off in the marketplace about her identity..or what he thought it was.
It didn't take her long to get to the palace. This was the easiest part of the job. It was abandoned but for a single guard manning the entrance to the Emperor's quarters. The other members of his retinue were training outside the gates which was where she ought to be as well. That meant she experienced little or no opposition until she stealthily got to the left corner of the balcony of the quarters where the soldier was standing guard. She had anticipated this and was more than prepared for it. She positioned two arrows onto her bow and aimed for two fatal positions on the soldier's body: his head and heart.
As the arrows fired, the soldier standing guard heard something fly at him and was quick to react. His sword blocked the arrow aiming for his head while the other pierced his heart. He died immediately.
Kicking the guard's body over, Ekdikisi reached for the knob and quietly opened the wide doors that led to her father's quarters

Just the finale left

CHAPTER NINE: THE FINALE

She opened the doors and stepped into the large room. In there sat Megaleio Hegemon alright. But something, somehow had gone horribly wrong...Throughout the course of her mission, she had heavily relied on the element of surprise. Her ability to induce a raw, unexpected form of last-minute panic as well as capitalize on it had served her extremely well. Now, glancing across the room, she saw that she had lost that advantage.
The room was as tidy as usual with it's usual gold-plated props. On her side of the long dining table, at exactly the same position it had been when she had first entered it was a steaming cup of cinnamon tea. It was a clear message that she had been expected and anticipated. She gripped her convertible bow cum scabbard more tightly around her fists and sat down to tea. She would go ahead with this..surprise or not.

Hegemon felt a wave of calm sweep through him as she sat down to tea. He had almost panicked when she walked in, looking as menacing as the ghost of a vengeful soul. Perhaps that was what she was indeed. The ghost of the maid had come back to hunt her. There was no need for unnecessary delay then.
"I know your identity and mission. But I do not know your name. What is your name?"
"Ekdikisi"
Hegemon sighed deeply. Of course, vengeance.
"Then, I must beg your pardon and request for a few moments of your time."
Since she was quiet and wore a blank but concentrated expression, he assumed he had her attention for the time being.
"I understand your grievances", he continued. "Like most youth in their prime, I was overcome with desire and made the grave mistake of forcefully knowing your mother. It is an action I regret deeply. I cannot think of any form of justification for my beastly sin towards her. She was a truly delightful lady and a diligent maid who would have made an amazing mother for yourself and a wonderful queen for me. I'm willing to atone the injustice of my action towards her with my life. I also beg for your forgiveness. But, there is one thing I am not sorry for and would do again, over and over. Listen to me very carefully.
The apparatus of the laws of a land do not exist on the premise of morality. When governing a state, a ruler must make and stand by decisions that foster the preservation and strengthen of the unity of the state, however amoral or illogical they might appear. When you were born as a girl child, your fate was sealed by the gods. Death became the only bulwark to the nefarious star gracing your rising. If it had been proclaimed that you were born of my loins as a female, authority and public sentiment would have departed the Megaleio Bloodline forever. This majesty..this united force of unstoppable power and splendor would not have been born.
Know this, I do not regret the hunt for your life. For these Kingdoms to enjoy the peace and prosperity that they do today, there is nothing I would not have sacrificed.
We're not so different. You, my son..yes, son, have sacrificed your life and that of others for your mission. Before you arrive at the conclusion that your cause is for the sake of morality, realise that you are no better than I am for sentimentality sake. The guard outside is betrothed to be married to a fair lady two moons from now. Even if you had known that fact, you still would have killed him. He was to you, an obstacle. An obstruction to your cause that had to be put away. Whether he was betrothed to be married, or a father of three children, or a man with the burden of an aged mother, you still would have put him away without regrets to achieve your grand goal. This is the hallmark of a true leader.
I have not much time left to live. I know this. When I die without a distinct successor to stake a claim to the throne, this world that I have created will fall apart like a pack of Cajun cards. My numerous sacrifices over the years will count for nothing. Everything I have built so far will break apart and my life's work laid to waste. But more importantly, chaos will ensue. Chaos, carnage and anarchy like as never been seen since the beginning of the world. The leaders of each Kingdom will battle for the control of the lands of the Allied Kingdoms and whoever emerges victorious emerges so to rule over a disaster of epic proportions.
This is why I made your mission extremely easy for you. I presented you with the opportunity to strike by ordering my personal guard corps to proceed on their annual training campout. I made sure you got past the Northern Gate's security by calling off the archers. I made sure you didn't fail to gain entrance to my quarters by placing only one average soldier to patrol my balcony.
Now, I make you a proposition. Here lies a writ that names you a Megaleio, which you are, and guarantees you full control of the Allied Kingdoms upon my demise. I want to you to take charge of the state and bring about a much required balance and stability to the anarchy that would ensue after my death. I have placed my royal seal on it as confirmation of its authenticity. All you need do is append your signature.
I do not ask you this as a favour. Think of it as staking a claim to your rightful place and avenging the death of your mother in one masterful stroke."
He rolled the scroll containing the writ over to Ekdikisi and waited. As she made as if to make a decision, Hegemon added, "I want you to know that I'm an admirer of your will, strength and courage." He then paused, took a deep breath and prepared himself.

Ekdikisi steadied herself with an effort. All that mattered now was she murdering this horrible, horrible man. He had totally outplayed the hand she dealt and now, she just wanted to destroy him and his damned legacy. She still had the journal, she'd release it to the world after she had killed him. Maybe she'd be killed too but if it proved to the world that the bloody Megaleio bloodline had bred weakness..had covered up the birth of a girl child, it was a reasonable bargain for her life. She picked the quill and stabbed it in the scroll, wrote a few words and rolled it back to Hegemon. Then, she picked her bow and took aim.

Hegemon knew it was over the moment she reached for her bow. His worst case scenario had come to being. Only this time, she wouldn't take him. If he was going to be the last true Megaleio, he would have to go down some of his dignity. It was a stroke of genius that he had prepared for this eventuality. He had told his right hand man to check under his bedpost, where he had kept a copy of the writ he gave her. He would sign it and assume his place as the next Emperor. It was also a stroke of genius that he had assigned the archers to cover every inch of the doors and fire unless he signalled them not to. As soon as she stepped out of the doors, she would become a porcupine.
He reached for his dagger as she drew her weapon. His heart caused him sharp, excruciating pain but he just seemed to know and not feel it. His nightmare suddenly became real..vividly real. Only, it wasn't a rustle of wings but the creaking of a bow. As she let out a high-pitched scream of vengeance and fired at him. He plunged his own dagger into his chest and the arrow and dagger both seemed to hit him at once. As he blacked out, he saw the faint outline of the words "Go To Hell" on the writ Ekdikisi and rolled back to him..and blood. A lot of blood.

Ekdikisi did not stop firing until she got to the fallen body of the Emperor. She placed one final arrow close close to his temple and drew until the bow broke. The force of it crushed the head of Hegemon and his brain spilled. Covered in blood and gore, she spat on his corpse and finished his tea.

Then, she walked over to the doors, kicked them open and stepped into the sunshine, welcoming an unwelcome death without open arms.

THE END

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ekdikisi cast a sharp look over the boulder she had just scaled. It would have been a fatal mistake if she had been followed. The foliage stretch before the perimeter made for an excellent camouflage and she intended to be make maximum use of it. She had successfully taken note of the security detail of the Northern Gate during the time she had first passed through as a tournament entrant. The wide expanse of untrimmed grass made for a perfect hunting ground for an archer, from above or beneath. But it also made for a perfect camouflage pattern for a stealthy creeper. As she twisted and turned her way through the grass, she bypassed the perimeter and kept moving. It wouldn't do to show herself until she'd got to the palace. The key was secrecy and stealth. She got close enough and spotted the guard on duty. He was the same one she had met on her first passing. It was a pity that he'd have to be casualty. Risking a face-off might draw attention to the fact that she was in the wrong place and create awkward scenarios. That wouldn't do. She placed the convertible bow cum scabbard on a vantage position and took aim.

Howie was having a bad day. It had been enough work at the border without this sudden instruction to tighten up security and report any abnormalities observed back to the Emperor's retinue who were on their annual training campout, a few miles away from the borders. The Emperor had also secretly called off the archers manning the border for a reason unknowable to him. Damned dung! He felt naked without the snipers. If trouble was on it's way they were more than capable of picking it off before it got within fifty yards off his personal space. This wasn't the kin of action he longed for.
At least, he had this damned horn. If there was an incident, he was to blow on it and the Emperor's retinue would be swarming the area like ants. He had also positioned all of the damned soldiers at the perimeter. Damnit! Better them to face what was coming than him. He hadn't concluded that thought when a swishing sound pierced through his chest and stuck out on his back. He tried to reach for his horn before another arrow hit him squarely in the forehead. He felt an excruciating pain before his world went black.

Ekdikisi approached the fallen body cautiously. The horn and unusual change in the security apparatchiks of the Gate alerted her sixth sense of an impending danger. She had expected return fire from the snipers which was why after taking aim, she had tied bowstring to a tug and had pulled from another position. That way, whatever counterstrike would have been concentrated on the position of the bow and not hers. But, there had been no counterstrike. That wasn't too worrisome. She had already breached the gate's security. She shed her camouflage and examined the female piece pf clothing she had brought along as part of the mission. It fitted her perfectly. Good. Her usual key weapon was the element of surprise. It was how she'd won the Tournament and it was how she intended to kill the mindless Tyrant and eleminate his bloodline forever. She would appear before him in her true form. Not as Pete Rosenberg but as the child he rejected. As the girl child he valued less than his lust for the throne. Not as a guard in his retinue but as a voice, the voice of vengeance and vendetta..as Ekdikisi. That was the element of surprise..the ace in her pack of cards. That would strike the fear of the gods in his evil heart and if the shock didn't kill him..she would.
She examined her blade and saw that it would need some sharpening. She had walked a considerable distance from the border by now and was now in the streets of the city. She pulled a veil over her face that revealed only her intense, green eyes and a fraction of her nose. Eyes that were so alike to those of her father's. If the old dimwit had not been so occupied with recruiting her and obtaining her pledge of allegiance, he might have actually noticed that their both eyes were an exact copy. It was by a stroke of luck that he had been non-observant and she had the common sense to have kept her head down, she thought.
She walked into the marketplace and quickly signalled to a knife grinder and moved into a shadowed area. As the grinder collected her sword and began to sharpen it with priceless precision, he threw her a sharp, curious look. That wouldn't do, she thought and smiled through the veil. Panic gripped the man as he hastened and endeavoured to be quickly finished with the sharpening. He recognized her. Or him. The boy from the Tournament. What was he doing as a girl? He was jolted out of his thoughts as he noticed that the sword was a little too sharp now. The lady or boy was still smiling as she handed him his fee and collected the sword. He started to hurriedly walk away but had not fully turned when he momentarily saw the flash of the sword and reached for the back of his neck. There was a gash of steady flowing scarlet there. He felt faint and fell.
Ekdikisi stepped out of the shadows. It was a pity that she had to kill him but he had recognized her. That wouldn't do. It would have jeopardized her mission if the Knife grinder had left to mouth off in the marketplace about her identity..or what he thought it was.
It didn't take her long to get to the palace. This was the easiest part of the job. It was abandoned but for a single guard manning the entrance to the Emperor's quarters. The other members of his retinue were training outside the gates which was where she ought to be as well. That meant she experienced little or no opposition until she stealthily got to the left corner of the balcony of the quarters where the soldier was standing guard. She had anticipated this and was more than prepared for it. She positioned two arrows onto her bow and aimed for two fatal positions on the soldier's body: his head and heart.
As the arrows fired, the soldier standing guard heard something fly at him and was quick to react. His sword blocked the arrow aiming for his head while the other pierced his heart. He died immediately.
Kicking the guard's body over, Ekdikisi reached for the knob and quietly opened the wide doors that led to her father's quarters

CHAPTER NINE: THE FINALE

She opened the doors and stepped into the large room. In there sat Megaleio Hegemon alright. But something, somehow had gone horribly wrong...Throughout the course of her mission, she had heavily relied on the element of surprise. Her ability to induce a raw, unexpected form of last-minute panic as well as capitalize on it had served her extremely well. Now, glancing across the room, she saw that she had lost that advantage.
The room was as tidy as usual with it's usual gold-plated props. On her side of the long dining table, at exactly the same position it had been when she had first entered it was a steaming cup of cinnamon tea. It was a clear message that she had been expected and anticipated. She gripped her convertible bow cum scabbard more tightly around her fists and sat down to tea. She would go ahead with this..surprise or not.

Hegemon felt a wave of calm sweep through him as she sat down to tea. He had almost panicked when she walked in, looking as menacing as the ghost of a vengeful soul. Perhaps that was what she was indeed. The ghost of the maid had come back to hunt her. There was no need for unnecessary delay then.
"I know your identity and mission. But I do not know your name. What is your name?"
"Ekdikisi"
Hegemon sighed deeply. Of course, vengeance.
"Then, I must beg your pardon and request for a few moments of your time."
Since she was quiet and wore a blank but concentrated expression, he assumed he had her attention for the time being.
"I understand your grievances", he continued. "Like most youth in their prime, I was overcome with desire and made the grave mistake of forcefully knowing your mother. It is an action I regret deeply. I cannot think of any form of justification for my beastly sin towards her. She was a truly delightful lady and a diligent maid who would have made an amazing mother for yourself and a wonderful queen for me. I'm willing to atone the injustice of my action towards her with my life. I also beg for your forgiveness. But, there is one thing I am not sorry for and would do again, over and over. Listen to me very carefully.
The apparatus of the laws of a land do not exist on the premise of morality. When governing a state, a ruler must make and stand by decisions that foster the preservation and strengthen of the unity of the state, however amoral or illogical they might appear. When you were born as a girl child, your fate was sealed by the gods. Death became the only bulwark to the nefarious star gracing your rising. If it had been proclaimed that you were born of my loins as a female, authority and public sentiment would have departed the Megaleio Bloodline forever. This majesty..this united force of unstoppable power and splendor would not have been born.
Know this, I do not regret the hunt for your life. For these Kingdoms to enjoy the peace and prosperity that they do today, there is nothing I would not have sacrificed.
We're not so different. You, my son..yes, son, have sacrificed your life and that of others for your mission. Before you arrive at the conclusion that your cause is for the sake of morality, realise that you are no better than I am for sentimentality sake. The guard outside is betrothed to be married to a fair lady two moons from now. Even if you had known that fact, you still would have killed him. He was to you, an obstacle. An obstruction to your cause that had to be put away. Whether he was betrothed to be married, or a father of three children, or a man with the burden of an aged mother, you still would have put him away without regrets to achieve your grand goal. This is the hallmark of a true leader.
I have not much time left to live. I know this. When I die without a distinct successor to stake a claim to the throne, this world that I have created will fall apart like a pack of Cajun cards. My numerous sacrifices over the years will count for nothing. Everything I have built so far will break apart and my life's work laid to waste. But more importantly, chaos will ensue. Chaos, carnage and anarchy like as never been seen since the beginning of the world. The leaders of each Kingdom will battle for the control of the lands of the Allied Kingdoms and whoever emerges victorious emerges so to rule over a disaster of epic proportions.
This is why I made your mission extremely easy for you. I presented you with the opportunity to strike by ordering my personal guard corps to proceed on their annual training campout. I made sure you got past the Northern Gate's security by calling off the archers. I made sure you didn't fail to gain entrance to my quarters by placing only one average soldier to patrol my balcony.
Now, I make you a proposition. Here lies a writ that names you a Megaleio, which you are, and guarantees you full control of the Allied Kingdoms upon my demise. I want to you to take charge of the state and bring about a much required balance and stability to the anarchy that would ensue after my death. I have placed my royal seal on it as confirmation of its authenticity. All you need do is append your signature.
I do not ask you this as a favour. Think of it as staking a claim to your rightful place and avenging the death of your mother in one masterful stroke."
He rolled the scroll containing the writ over to Ekdikisi and waited. As she made as if to make a decision, Hegemon added, "I want you to know that I'm an admirer of your will, strength and courage." He then paused, took a deep breath and prepared himself.

Ekdikisi steadied herself with an effort. All that mattered now was she murdering this horrible, horrible man. He had totally outplayed the hand she dealt and now, she just wanted to destroy him and his damned legacy. She still had the journal, she'd release it to the world after she had killed him. Maybe she'd be killed too but if it proved to the world that the bloody Megaleio bloodline had bred weakness..had covered up the birth of a girl child, it was a reasonable bargain for her life. She picked the quill and stabbed it in the scroll, wrote a few words and rolled it back to Hegemon. Then, she picked her bow and took aim.

Hegemon knew it was over the moment she reached for her bow. His worst case scenario had come to being. Only this time, she wouldn't take him. If he was going to be the last true Megaleio, he would have to go down some of his dignity. It was a stroke of genius that he had prepared for this eventuality. He had told his right hand man to check under his bedpost, where he had kept a copy of the writ he gave her. He would sign it and assume his place as the next Emperor. It was also a stroke of genius that he had assigned the archers to cover every inch of the doors and fire unless he signalled them not to. As soon as she stepped out of the doors, she would become a porcupine.
He reached for his dagger as she drew her weapon. His heart caused him sharp, excruciating pain but he just seemed to know and not feel it. His nightmare suddenly became real..vividly real. Only, it wasn't a rustle of wings but the creaking of a bow. As she let out a high-pitched scream of vengeance and fired at him. He plunged his own dagger into his chest and the arrow and dagger both seemed to hit him at once. As he blacked out, he saw the faint outline of the words "Go To Hell" on the writ Ekdikisi and rolled back to him..and blood. A lot of blood.

Ekdikisi did not stop firing until she got to the fallen body of the Emperor. She placed one final arrow close close to his temple and drew until the bow broke. The force of it crushed the head of Hegemon and his brain spilled. Covered in blood and gore, she spat on his corpse and finished his tea.

Then, she walked over to the doors, kicked them open and stepped into the sunshine, welcoming an unwelcome death without open arms.

THE END

This is a good one Bro. Keep it up

Dear Zik, proper use of paragraphs will make this work easier to read.

2scorehigh:
Dear Zik, proper use of paragraphs will make this work easier to read.

The novelette was paragraphed accordingly during the process of typing. My browser screwed that up. I'd try to fix it. Thanks and cheers!

Nicely written bro

Kudos.. I say kudos.. In emperor Hegemon's voice

I was here. Great work, OP.

Thank you all.

Wow! Very beautiful. You're good, man.
Can we chat over WhatsApp?

OluwabuqqyYOLO:
Wow! Very beautiful. You're good, man.
Can we chat over WhatsApp?

Hopefully. 08162043403

Nice