CHAPTER 3: THE COLD KING

"This … this is madness! I've done nothing wrong!"

A filthy peasant agonized, kneeling on the ground with his hands chained. His dirty clothes have been torn as his dry skin revealed painful marks from intense torture. Along with him were two, dreadful bodies—no heads, lying while blood spurted and flowed on the stone floor. He was the last one to be executed on the underground dungeon of the castle.

"The court has already proven you guilty. I’ve no pity to those who defy the laws," Kael Denvorn replied in a cold voice as he stood high in front of the foul prisoner.

The silver-armored knight beside Kael handed over a long and sharp sword.

"How did I end up to this madness? It was that damn noble who drugged and tortured my family to death! Where the hell is justice in that? That monster should be the one to be punished!" the man cried out with tears falling down from his bloodshot eyes. “You’re all rotting demons… all of you…”

This is how life runs here in the capital, you fool. When you have no money, you are powerless.  Kael raised his long sword one-handedly. "I'm only following orders. You should’ve let this matter go if you valued your life."

The man slowly lifted his head, looking at Kael with tearful eyes. "I'd rather die-"

The blade of Kael had stopped the peasant from speaking as it sliced through his neck in one blink. The filthy head rolled to the ground, then shortly followed by the body. Its red eyes were still wide open with its mouth slightly parted. Blood burst out, spreading over the dark stone floor.

Kael returned the stained sword to the knight beside him. "Clean this mess," he ordered. The two knights took care of the dead bodies while the other three followed Kael.

"Was that the last one?" he asked the knights following him as they walked. One of them nodded in response.

The usual, malodorous scent had been combined with the thick air in the dungeon. Breathing had always been difficult in the underground prison. The caged torches on both sides of the stone walls illuminated the dark path towards the exit.

On the archway of the dungeon, a squire was waiting to meet Kael. “Sir Kael, the king demands for your immediate presence.”

Kael didn’t respond, not even taking a glance. The king had no patience so he needed to make haste.

Stepping outside the dungeon instantly revealed his glorious identity—the divine knight. The cold gust of wind blew out his purple cape on his back. The afternoon light from the cloudy skies gently kissed his shining, golden armor with the diamond gem at the center of his chest. After removing his golden helm, he breathed the fresh, cold air with his straight black hair moving freely with the wind.

Kael was quite tall in appearance, exceeding a six foot of height. With his strong jaw and sharp defined cheek bones, he had always caught the attention of many women on his patrolling duty around the capital. His small and seductive, dark eyes matched perfectly with his full black eyebrows. His looks might truly be daring, but he was known as a hard hearted person, executing people mercilessly under the king’s order.

As a divine knight… a hard truth it was… to serve the king with utmost loyalty, although it would go against his own morality.

Kael raised his head to glance at the gloomy sky as he walked past the high garden. Snow was falling lightly. The boring and cold scent of the winter flowers together with the depth of the silence stayed in the cold air of the castle.

The knights on guard all stood at attention when they saw Kael walking through. He entered the dark halls with highly painted ceiling, passing between the blue pillars on the sides.

The entirety of the castle was almost in complete darkness that only the light from the big windows shone the inside. There was no life in it. The chandeliers and candle lights stayed silent and hidden because of the intense coldness in the castle that covered them. It's what indeed made the castle worthy of its name, the Crown Galacer.

Kael took a stop at the black doors of the throne room. Both huge doors were open so he could hear the echoes of the loud voices inside. He stood outside to wait, listening to what the people had been discussing about in the throne room.

"Bloody hell, Maester David! I've already mentioned about these damn taxes to the council meeting yesterday!" the king's mad voice had disrupted the silence.

"But your grace… merchants have moved out of the capital because of such… unbearable taxes. Trading had been one of the traditions of the kingdom that are essential for our economic stability and growth…"

"Have you gone mad, old man? We are in big debt to the Iron Bank from rebuilding the damage of the war we had years ago. What am I going to pay them? My own money?" the king replied ferociously. "Those filthy peasants and merchants should be the one paying it! If they can’t pay it, they should sell their own bodies! Slaves for heaven’s sake! Nothing compared to my nobles and high executives."

"Fo... forgive me, my king," the maester's old and shaky voice echoed. "I was just reporting the situation-"

"Leave!" the king's dark voice blasted out like thunder, striking Kael's ears.

The slouched, old-looking maester walked out through the black doors, frowning.

Upon walking inside, Kael’s elegant shoes tapped on the floor of deep blue color, almost similar to a frozen surface. Snowflakes had a gentle shower from the filtered ceiling of the throne room. The freezing temperature had given shivers to anyone who entered…but what was worse—was the king’s cold wrath. White mist lingered around the frozen human figures displayed on the sides of the room—once had been traitors who defied the king’s orders.

Kael’s gaze turned to King Terrowin Aragon who was sitting on the throne, ice crystal made. It screamed attention and power over all those who have seen it. The seat had been elevated above the blue floor with curved steps in front. What’s truly remarkable was the glowing ice wall behind the throne, carved with a symbol of a huge snowflake on it—the snowflake that symbolized the northern region; the country of Glacia.

Kael kneeled and bowed his head. "You called, Your Highness?"

"Is the execution done?"

"I already beheaded those three, your grace."

"As they should be."

Kael closed his eyes and sighed in secret, with his head facing down. He had always known about King Terrowin, receiving filthy money from nobles to clean up their name every time they did some crime to their people. It’d been happening every day in the capital. Unjustifiable it was as Kael had hidden pity for the victims. But orders are orders. A knight must be loyal to the crown—and every knight was expected to follow everything the king demands.

"How was the search?" King Terrowin asked in a monotone.

Kael raised his head, seeing the king's middle-aged face, with sharp, midnight eyes. His curly hair, as black as a crow—ran down to his shoulders. On his head the ice crown rested. Its majestic blue form and the elegant diamond gem at the crown’s front would force anyone to bow his/her head in respect.

"Still no sign of the Forgotten Winter, Your Highness," Kael replied as he stood up straight. "We've got no leads in Hailborne City. And we're still waiting for the report from the other search in Casterfall."

King Terrowin massaged his right temple, then muttered a curse. "That rebel guild’s getting farther every single day," the king said with a sarcastic smirk plastered on his face. "Your brother, Lucas, had always been outsmarting you ever since you replaced him as the divine knight. You’ve never caught a single assassin on their guild. You can't even locate their hideout. So what the hell did I appoint you as my divine knight for?”

Kael’s arms jerked once in an involuntary reflex after hearing his older brother’s name. His chest tightened, sparking that rage he had felt for his brother for a long time.

He slowly looked down to the blue floor. He knew that behind those calm tone of the king's voice was already raging with anger and disappointment, ready to fire him in any second. But his hatred for Lucas had overwhelmed his fear of the king.

"This will be your last chance, Kael. Find your own team and hunt down those fucking traitors to the ground,"

"I will, Your Highness," Kael bowed his head. 

***

Walking on the dark halls of the castle, Kael’s thoughts had been mixed with his emotions. He tried to prevent his eyes from tears, beneath his furious, stormed eyebrows.

Failure…

You’ll never become better than your brother…

Such a disappointment… why’d he become the divine knight?

Those words started coming back on his head… the words which he had always received from everybody. No one had ever thought of him the other way. Not even a single word of encouragement from a person came to him.

Kael clenched his jaws as the tightness in his chest was yet to fade. It had worsened instead. But one thing was locked on his mind in order to end all the pain he had been suffering.

Catching his brother, the leader of the Forgotten Winter guild, was the only way he could prove to everyone that he had always been better… and stronger. And he would give every damn thing it would cost just to get what he wanted.

Kael let out a huge breath. “Send a word to Winterrun Village,” he told the two knights following him. “I’m forming an elite unit.”