The Revolution

Will walked through the streets of the inconsequential village he had found himself in. He went as fast as he could without appearing to be trying to escape. In truth, he was more excited to leave than anything else. Still, he couldn’t ignore the weight of the strange satchel on his belt.

The satchel was red and black, in contrast to the gold-trimmed blue and green he wore. With luck, nobody would notice the discrepancy. Even if someone did, everyone thought Will was rather eccentric anyway, so he doubted they’d be suspicious.

Still, Will was eager to leave. The contents of the satchel, and the panic stretching across the kingdom that had just spread to the village made staying unpleasant, to say nothing of the danger. He picked up his pace.

Approaching the main road, near the edge of the village, one of Will’s personal guards spotted him. “My lord, thank the gods! Quickly, you must get out of here,” the guard said.

Will pointed to the nearby carriage surrounded by armed men in black and red raiment. “That is exactly what I am doing. I shall go with them,” Will responded curtly. The guard made to complain, but Will cut him off. “They are trustworthy. You stay here and help restore order, they shall protect me.”

The man looked uneasy, but saluted. “Of course, my lord. As you command.” Will gave him a dismissive wave, and the guard ran to another part of town, to attempt to calm down the panic and confusion.

As he neared the carriage, one of the guards came to meet him. It was a woman, Will was surprised to discover. “Sir, do you have it?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Of course I do,” he snapped. “What kind of fool do you take me for? Now get me out of here.” With that, Will’s new guards helped him into the carriage. The woman and another guard joined him in the carriage, and the rest climbed on top. With that, the carriage began moving.

Once the carriage had gotten past the edge of the small village, Will asked, “Were they able to construct a barricade on the road?”

The woman responded, “No Sir, I don’t think they had time to set up this far away from the capital.”

“Good. Then be silent,” he ordered. He then looked down to the satchel.

This damned satchel. The damned cult. Nobody knew the cult existed, or that it meant to destroy the kingdom. Will only knew because they had approached him. They needed some way to keep whatever was inside the satchel safe, and the son of a nobleman was perfect for getting it away. All the guards had to follow his orders, as long as they did not directly conflict with orders from the king himself. And nobody would suspect Will. He was eccentric and disobedient, but nobody expected him to be a traitor. They just didn’t take his ambition into account.

Will had been kept in that small village, away from the intrigue and potential danger of the court, for most of his life. He wasn’t happy ever happy with it, but he figured they would let him join the rest of the nobility once he turned 18. But he was still kept away, and the cult approached him in his anger. They were going to end the reign of the king, and the kingdom with him. The object in the satchel was supposed to do it. All Will had to do was bring the satchel from his village to the cult’s secret lair.

It was supposed to go more smoothly. Someone from the cult would steal whatever the object was, and it would be passed from cult member to cult member, until it got to him. Then, he’d be able to bring it at his own discretion. Unfortunately, the thief made a mistake. They were discovered as they were escaping the castle, and as soon as the king discovered what was stolen he ordered all the roads shut down and all guards to search for it, leading to Will’s need to hurry. The cult had started sewing chaos among the kingdom in an attempt to disrupt this, but Will still had little time. A masked man passed the satchel into his hands in a back alley during the chaos, and Will left.

Will sat in the windowless carriage for hours, his entire body burning with the desire to open the satchel, to see what was inside. But, he had given his word that he would not open it, just as the leader of the cult, a man named Marcos, gave his word that Will would have a position of power in the new kingdom. All he had to do was bring the satchel.

It was night when the carriage stopped and Will got out. They were far off the road, at the edge of some woods. The moonlight glinted off the guard woman’s short black hair, setting her apart from the other blond and brunet cultists, and he wondered if she had been nobility as well.

The woman turned to Will. “We’ll guide you,” she said to him, making a sweeping gesture into the woods.

“Then lead on,” Will responded. He followed her and the other guards along a winding path through the woods. It was well worn, but he doubted he’d be able to find his way back in the dark.

Eventually, they had come upon the cult’s ‘lair’. It was a small wooden shack, nestled gently between some trees. Will found it rather unimpressive. “I expected, by the size and influence of your cult, that you’d have some kind of grand cathedral hidden out her,” he said.

The woman smirked slightly. “No, we don’t quite have the resources for that. Now please, step inside.”

Will entered into the single room of the shack, closely followed by the guards. The room was very dimly lit, the only light being what little moonlight could filter through the canopy of the forest and through the single small window. Will could only make out a table in the middle of the room and another figure at the other side, which he gathered was Marcos.

Marcos’ silhouette gestured to the table. “The object,” he said in his low voice. Will dropped the satchel on the table. “Good,” Marcos muttered. Then, with a wave of Marcos’ hand, the guards on either side of Will tightly grabbed his arms.

“Hey, unhand me! I shall be your king,” Will grunted as he struggled to escape.

“My apologies, Will,” Marcos said, “but it appears that you’ve been fooled.” With that, Marcos reached into the satchel, and he pulled out a small gem that seemed to shine faintly red, casting an eerie glow across the entire room. The sight of it drained Will’s will to fight, and even to speak. Marcos held the gem near his face, shadows distorting his already scarred and gaunt face, and said, “And I must also apologize for this, but you shall be our first sacrifice.”

With that, Marcos approached Will and thrust the gem into Will’s chest. The gem started to glow brighter as it pierced Will’s heart, sending him into spasms of pain. After a few moments of agony – though they felt like eternities – Will’s body slumped in the cultists’ arms, dead. His life was the first to add its power to the gem.