GAMBIT 22 22| Storm

The storm comes as the opera of the skies, the winds determined to sing out the trees and gra.s.ses as their percussion. Even the downpour comes in an orchestrated rhythm, appearing as the master of the scene yet arriving on an unheard cue. The jagged thunders rip the clouds as they clash upon the flakes of snow and soil. Such a flattering evening, for the kingdom of Witherstone.

The organ of the castle begins to tune. It is the hymn of the night for the king and queen of the kingdom dreaded by those who oppose it. However even with the rain soothing the hearts of those who dwell in it, Morgan Storm bears a news that even the king and queen could not bear.

As a puff of ebony smoke with a smell of charcoal and granite, Morgan whizzes across the halls, and into the room of the king and queen. Amongst the four pillars, she is the most active for whenever conflict arises within the kingdom she is the first to respond.

"Come in." Vladimir instructs with intoned voice. His ears listen to the music of the organ with his hands fiddling with the hair of his wife.

The doors of the room open, as the puff of smoke whizzes around. She emits an echoing voice, bouncing unto the walls of the king's room. She then settles in front of the king as her physical form. A woman of beauty.

"My king." She gestures, kneeling and bowing down with respect.

"What is your purpose here?" Erice, the queen, queries.

"A herd of cyclops have spotted-"

"Don't." The king pauses, inhaling deply. He then continues, "... Don't say the name."

"Of course your majesty, forgive me. According to the cyclops the person you've been looking for has been spotted near the opposing kingdom."

"So, Pureheart? Such a shame." Vladimir murmurs in a pitiful yet sarcastic manner.

"That scapegoat was meant to be the strongest out of all of us." The queen adds.

Suddenly, the beautiful rhythm of the night is disrupted by the breath of the beast hiding behind the throne. With a glare on its eyes, the winged-beast walks out of its haven, the king's throne. It then speaks with a deep and loud voice which echoes throughout the room, "The power of one, will fall to Pureheart, bring the traitor and slay the heart."

"Slay the heart? What do you mean by this?" The king tilts to the winged-beast, questioning its words.

"Slaughter the scapegoat, and the prophecy will never be fulfilled. Alone... its song will fail, and thus the land shall turn to dust." The beast murmurs unto the ears of the king.

"I cannot do that-"

"Are you a coward?! If you want Sacchi to fall under your grasp then you must pay a small price." The winged-beast abruptly interrupts with an aggressive voice.

"There are other ways of claiming Sacchi." The king adds, keeping his tone down.

"And how do you intend to finish a war which never ends? As long as there is Pureheart, the power of the orb won't fall unto you. But, if you make the right sacrifice, then the prophecy told for ages shall never happen, and Pureheart will soon meet its demise.

Your ancestors and forefathers have worked with blood and sweat, finish... finish, what they have started." It murmurs, persuading to convince the king.

The king lets off a soft sigh as he exhales deeply. The moment of quietude returns with everyone inside the room looking unto the eyes of the king, waiting for the final decision. Even a cunning king has a heart soft as feather, however the question lies, who or what makes Vladimir's heart soft? Who is the winged-beast, and what is his pertaining to?

"Give me a day to decide. For now, continue operations and capture the next city." The king instructs. Hearing his words, the beast becomes angry yet seizes to show it before the king. It then decides to return behind the throne without saying or uttering another word.

"As you wish, your majesty. Do not fear, Sacchi will be yours." Morgan gestures with a bow for a final time as she turns into a puff of smoke and exits the room. With that being said, the king is left with a troubled and bewildered mind despite his cunning looks. For now, Pureheart must prepare for the upcoming sieges.

With the downpour weakening, the king and queen has made a decision to sleep in order to restore their energy for what is to come. The music of the organ stops, and the rhythm of the night is played by nature and its glorious children.

The scapegoat and the winged-beast however, still remains a mystery. Only time will reveal the answers to the question.