Chapter 2. The Rise Of A Worthless Royal (Part 2)

Chapter 2

Jiar ran towards the Castle's dungeons as fast as his legs could carry him. He panted heavily as he was grossly out of shape. However, he had no choice but to keep running because the assassins were at his heel.

'This must be a dream,' Jiar thought as he spiraled down a dark staircase until he realized he was underground. Finally, he found himself running down a bizarre corridor with flaming torches. He had reached the dungeons. 'How could uncle Kumoria do this to us? He always brings me gifts from across the land. Father and he were more than brothers. They were best friends who fought battles together. How could he turn against his own blood?'

The dungeon walls narrowed until he found it difficult to breathe. Where was the corridor leading him?

Now that he thought about it, he had read in history books that it was always an ambitious relative who deposed the king or queen in nations across Koondarr.

Jiar had been running for almost fifteen minutes.

He had crossed numerous prison rooms made of Dolorian metal. Now he arrived at a dead-end. A large room with a fortified door and a golden handle greeted him.

'It makes sense,' Jiar thought. 'The royal heirloom must be a powerful object and needs the highest level of security.'

The prince planted his finger on the fingerprint sensor. There was a loud creak and a thud. As the door slid open, a sense of fear overcame Jiar. There was something scary inside, and it was giving off dark vibes.

The dust settled, and he walked inside slowly.

Jiar looked behind him. The assassins had not appeared yet. Now he had time to find the heirloom.

The room was filled with gems, gold coins, trophies, and jewels.

How would he know what the heirloom looked like? Was it a ring? A crown? A sword?

Just then, Jiar heard a whimper. Was it an animal trapped in there?

"Help..." a voice mumbled.

Jiar turned sharply towards the source. At the end of the room was a metal pole. Someone was chained to it.

"Who is it?" the boy called out.

"Help... me... please..."

As he approached the figure, he realized she was a little girl—no older than thirteen. She had jet-black hair and was an astonishing beauty. The characteristic feature about her was her ears.

"Are you a dark elf? I thought the elven race was wiped out in the World War."

"I've been waiting for you, my prince," she said with tears in her eyes.

"How do you know who I am? I've never been to the dungeons."

"I've seen you in my visions. You are the promised king."

Jiar raised an eyebrow. Whatever he had read about dark elves told him that they were dangerous. They could suck your soul dry. This could be a trap.

"What is your name?"

"I'm... Althea. Please help me, noble prince. These chains have fingerprint censors which only you can unlock."

Her voice quivered as if she was hurt. Jiar sympathized for a moment but then remembered how tricky dark elves could be.

"I can't help you, elf girl. First of all, I don't trust you. Second, I am here to find the royal heirloom stashed by my father, King Koldovia. I see no incentive to free you right now. Assassins are coming."

Althea's mouth curled into a frown. "I know... the king was killed by his brother... now you are king, my prince." She jangled the chains as if that would help.

"I have no interest in ruling. Right now, I need to survive first. I can consider freeing you if you can help find what I am looking for."

Althea smiled bitterly. "So... you don't know."

"Know what?"

"I belong to you now, noble prince. I am the object you are looking for."

Jiar was taken aback. How could a living person be a royal heirloom?

The dark elf must be lying.

"I don't believe you..."

"But-"

Just then, he heard shuffling and voices from outside the prison room. The assassins were here!

"Oh no! I'm doomed!" Jiar exclaimed as his heart palpitated. He would be stabbed in cold blood like his father. If only he were strong enough, he could have protected his family. Tears ran down his face.

Althea's expression changed, and she raised her voice. "Enough with your self-loathing!"

Jiar gave a start. The dark elf was exuding a tremendous amount of aura. He could not even look her in the eyes.

"If you want power, I can grant it to you. Let us make a deal."

The prince hollered back. "A deal? Why would I make a deal with a dark elf who feeds on souls? I'd rather die!"

The girl scoffed. "Your ancestors have made deals with me over centuries. I may look young, but I am hundreds of years old. Our race, indeed, feeds on souls. But if you are a contract holder, we will synergize with you. So make your decision soon, prince. This moment will define your entire life or your death."

Jiar looked around in nervous sweat. The assassins had spotted him from a distance. They ran down the corridor towards him.

The prince rushed to Althea and ran his finger over the censor. The chains collapsed to the floor with a thud.

He stepped back, expecting the little elf to pounce on him.

"You have to kiss me to seal the deal, prince," Althea said ominously, her green eyes twinkling with magic.

Jiar turned his head towards the dungeon corridors. The assassins had almost reached the entrance.

He pulled Althea close and kissed her on the lips.

A loud bang echoed with a flash of light as he was thrown back a few paces. The little girl's body seemed to disintegrate into a dark matter. Then it merged into what looked like a golden, ornate staff.

"Kill him!" one of the assassins exclaimed.

Three attackers fired fireballs toward Jiar. Others cast poisoned knives at him. He would die instantly if the attacks hit him.

The boy's knees almost gave way. He closed his eyes and wished his death would be instant and painless.

'Take possession of me, prince! Now!' A voice boomed in his mind.

Jiar was shaken out of his panic. He opened his eyes and lunged forward to grab the ornate staff with his right hand.

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