A fair-skinned man with short light hair, dressed in a Kingsman uniformed, is returning home after spending three days locked behind the castle’s walls. He enters a modest stone home with a sandy hair woman preparing breakfast. The woman sees the Kingsman and leaps into his arms, kissing him passionately. The Kingsman held her tightly, taking in her scent of wild berries and burnt ash. “I don’t have much time before someone notices I’m missing.”
“Gilbert, …show more content…
“Are you sure?” she question with tears running down her face.
“I was one of the men that carry the Queen’s body to the carriage,” Gilbert paused, waiting for the color to return to her face. “This morning,” he begins, “during one of my scouting missions, I overheard two Kingsman conversing about the King’s passing.”
Gwendolyn stumbles backward; the news was all too much for her to bear. She falls into a chair. Her head hung low. Her eyes are staring at the floor. “I fear what is to come with the passing of the King and Queen. These lands will once again enter a dark age that hasn’t been seen since The Battle of the Lands.”
Gilbert kneels down, gingerly stroking the tops of her folded hands. “I want you to go lived with your mother and father. I need you to be as far away from here as possible.” He stands, softly kissing her on the forehead. “I will return to you as soon as I can.”
Gwendolyn peers up to him, touching the side of his face. “Don’t go.”
“Gwendolyn…”
“Please, my loved. His death does not absolve you of your promise to serve them. Please…do not venture down this …show more content…
A slot immediately opens in the wooden door. He digs into his pocket, retrieving a smooth piece of rock with tiny scribble on its surface. He inserted it into the slot and waits.
The door gradually opens with a burly man standing on the other side. His maroon eyes are aflame. “Deireadh a dorchadais,” he says, glaring at him.
“The end draws near for the Kings,” Gilbert replies. “The lands will once again be ruled by the people.”
The burly man’s eyes slowly faded. “Gilbert…it’s been awhile my friend.”
“It surly has, Jole.”
Jole grins, allowing Gilbert to enter. He closes the door. The home inside was tiny. A fire pit took up most of the room. He slides it to one side, chanting over the rocky floor. A door appears out of nowhere. He opens it and points to the tunnel. “If you embark on this path, you’ll forever be link to us. You will not get a second chance to leave.”
Gilbert crawls into the opening without giving it a second thought.
Jole smiles, “Welcome back to the movement. The real leaders of this realm are waiting for you.” He slides the fire pit back into place and heads to the door. “Long live the movement,” he murmurs to himself, gazing out the window to the