~Dylan Neumann, Class of 2025

He sprinted through the streets like a wild antelope, and he was being chased like one as well. He had done nothing deserving of a chase like this, he thought, only taken a sack of flour. But he should have known better. In a society like this, taking food was like a war crime. And in this society, there was no court of law. Officers did as they pleased, the criminals’ fates were decided on the spot, and his sentence was death. He heard shouts behind him, but only to disperse the small crowds. He knew that they had a clear shot now. He heard the bowstring thwack and the arrow whistle towards him. He felt something tear through his calf and he hit the ground hard. Dirt and rocks were inside of his mouth, cutting his tongue and scraping at his teeth. The footsteps slowed behind him as he heard a sword being drawn.

“William Fidgerson, you have been found committing crimes against Marrowton and God Emperor Rohann. Your crime has been stealing, your punishment is death.”

“Sire… SIRE! WA-”

The sword slashed through his neck and the sack of flour, now red, was given to the miller. People returned to their business as the knight cleaned up the man’s body. He left the head.

Emperor God Rohann Balor Deamhan VII was the permanent ruler of Marrowton. Seven generations back, his family was elected as rulers. For generations, they ruled fairly. They honored elections, gave power and prosperity to the people, and gave property to those who needed it. Back then they simply used the title of king. 

When Rohann VII was put into power after the assassination of his father, he changed things. To protect himself from danger, he established laws that allowed his soldiers to kill subjects who made “threats” on his life. Though the soldiers used this decree to kill anybody that disagreed with the king, or just anybody they wanted to. Crime began to run rampant on the streets, so the king put knights to survey the townsfolk. After a drought that many believed came from God as a punishment for the king’s actions, food became scarce. The king set rations to be given to every citizen. However food became so scarce that the rations were drastically reduced, and only given to certain people. The rich ones. Due to the lack of food, he set laws that allowed the death penalty for stealing food. He increased the number of soldiers in the lower city, which caused unrest among lower classes. The poor were constantly under watch and every move they made was recorded. 

For a couple of years, these laws stayed in place. The city was oppressive, but most people kept their freedom. Trials that took place were still fair, and the law still stood in favor of everyone. The last decree that the king made was simple. It simply declared that the law and punishments were now in the hands of the soldiers. The soldiers had no more need to arrest. They simply caught someone and either imprisoned them, or killed them on the spot. The king made special knights to scare citizens into obedience. They were abnormally tall, and they wore chain link armor underneath cloaks that were like the night sky without stars. They had silver masks that made them look closer to demons than people. They used tongue like daggers coated in poison. Shaped like elongated letter Ss, they were coated in a poison that caused immediate muscle decay that left the victim paralyzed until all of their muscle had been destroyed. They were then left for dead. Every time a side of the blade passed through the victim, it administered another dose of poison for guaranteed death. The citizens called them Shadows, due to their elongated and dark complexion, and they were terrified of them.

If the king ever learnt of any groups that dared oppose him, he had his soldiers go and raid the supposed hideout, and took few prisoners. Those unlucky enough to be spared were subject to torture until they gave up the names and locations of their comrades. When they had no more use, they were killed.

However, few groups were able to escape the ever present eye of the knights and the king. Nobody knew of these resistance groups, as if people knew, they would trade information for resources from the king. These groups knew not even of each other, so they worked obscured from the world. Many of these groups had plots to kill the king, but would not enact them until the time was right. The plans required certain times to align perfectly, and most of the plans were exactly the same. The king thought that his fear mongering had worked on all citizens, so rarely kept personal matters, especially those of his knights, to himself. His knights patrols’ were very well known by the resistance groups, and their switching and break times were known by most, even ordinary citizens.

Nearly all of the plans required one thing; time. The Shadows switched their positions every 28 days, on a new moon. The knights took their breaks and switched positions every first of the month. And the king mysteriously left his castle every six months at night. These positions of timing would never change, even if they intercepted each other. The plans of these groups all depended on that night, when the Shadows were gone, the knights were gone, and the king was out of his castle. And after years and years, that night was in only two more weeks.

 The streets of the kingdom began to whisper like the wind. People heard rumors of something big happening soon. No one knew what was happening though, and if they did even the loyalists wouldn’t tell the king. Underneath the cheery facade, everyone hated the king. The loyalists worked with the king only to get money and supplies to help their families. The farmers and workers worked with the king only because they did not want their property to be seized. And everyone else worked with the king because they wanted to keep their head. But if the king was gone, they wouldn’t need to do any of that. They could do as they pleased. So they waited.

On the morning of the final day, all shops closed. The king would make an announcement to the public. 

“There have been rumors that something bad will happen to me tonight. These are false. Everything that can be done for my safety is being done. I encourage those rebellious groups to simply submit now, for your own sakes. Tonight there will be no prisoners. The plans for tonight will remain as such, nothing will change. Thank you all, and remember,” the whole crowd began to chant these next words:

“He who wears the crown will reign, he who reigns brings the rain. Who brings the rain brings life, and never again shall be strife!” Everyone knew that saying, it was hammered into their head at such a young age that it was their first words. They hated that rhyme.

That night, the plan went into action. The bridge connecting the castle to the fields outside of the city was lowered and the carriage went out as usual. Guards followed it on horseback. There were more than usual, but the night remained normal. 

In the forest surrounding the path, stouts began to ring:

“GO! GO! GO!” But there were too many shouts, where there were only supposed to be about 20 people, a number closer to a hundred began to ring. Arrows whistled and bowstrings thwacked. Swords were drawn and armor hit the ground. Horses rose onto their hind legs and bolted off without their riders. Blood began to pool from both soldiers and rebels. But when the soldiers lay dead and the carriage lay on its side, the people surrounding it were confused. There weren’t supposed to be this many people. So scared and confused, they attacked each other. No questions were asked, no comments were made, not a single word was said. Swords clashed together and bodies thumped against the dirt. After the conflict had died, dozens of men had as well. A group of eleven men now stood around the carriage. Gripping their wounds, they opened the door to kill the king, and the carriage exploded.

From his balcony, the king watched in amusement as the gunpowder went up in flames. He hadn’t expected the rebels to turn on eachother but it was much more amusing than he planned. He turned to the Shadows beside him, and stood there confused. Were two tall figures were supposed to be standing, two h piles of cloaks stained in blood lay on the ground. Their snake-like knives, buried inside of their skulls. 

“Not too fun to be on the receiving end of it, is it?”

“Who are you?” The king shouted into the clutter of his room.

“No one of importance. Nobody will know who I am after I’m done, so why should you?”

“U-upon my n-name of God Emperor Rohann Balor Deamhan VII, I demand that you show yourself immediately…”

King walked into the middle of his room and began to search behind and under things. Around he went, checking inside chests, armor stands, under beds and tables, behind curtains and pillars.

“This is what it feels like to be HUNTED”. The curtain behind the king whispered as it whisked away like a black feather in the wind. An abnormally long feather. An abnormally long feather with an elongated s shape in white on the front. The king knew exactly what was in store for him.

“What do you WANT?” The king yelled into his room.

“Is it money? Consider it done. Fame? Everyone will know your name. Status? You can be the next in line for the crown when I die. Just don’t let me die tonight. The kingdom has no heir and the land will go to chaos if no one takes the throne.”

“Can’t be any worse than what’s happening now. Have you seen the fear in peoples’ faces? Have you heard the panic in the streets? Shadows like me hear it all the time. Both men and women cry into their spouses in fear of being killed next. People have to look into the decapitated heads of their neighbors until the flesh rots off and all that is left is the skull. I oughta do the same for you. But I’m not that nice”. The king could almost hear his smile draw across his face, but that could have easily been his blade instead. 

“What I’ll do is I’ll let you live. I’ll keep you here until morning and then I’ll throw you out the window. As you hit the ground, people will come out and watch. And then I’ll let them do whatever they want. By the end of the day, you will be nothing more than a puddle and a mosaic of bones on the ground. You can finally find out what people think of you, and it will be the last thing you know”. The Shadow held his word, and the King survived the night, pleading and begging the entire time. 

When  the sun rose the next morning and the bells began to ring, people began to flood the streets. From high up the castle, people heard the frightened yell of a man they knew all too well. When he hit the ground, people began to crowd him, thinking he was dead. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t. The height was high, but only high enough to break his legs. He was picked up, and felt a surge of hope.

“Maybe I’ll live. Maybe they really do like me and they’re bringing me to a doctor and I’ll find the man who did this and he will get what he deserves”. But he was lying to himself. Tendons ripped and flesh tore. After the slaughter, people took his pieces and dumped them into the moat. They left the head, broken crown still atop it.

In front of the head stood the farmer who had received the bloody sack of flour that he had given to a poor man, barely a month before. At about seven feet, he was tall enough to gather looks from passersby, constantly thinking that he was a Shadow.

“Told you so… you damned sard.” 

He spat at the head and walked away.