The palace of Erethia pulsed with life that night.
Inside the king's private chambers, the air was thick with the heavy scent of burning oils and sweet wine. Laughter and soft moans echoed through the golden halls as dancers, their bodies bare and glistening with scented oils, swayed like flames to the rhythm of slow, seductive drums.
King Horri reclined on his silk-draped throne, his muscular chest bare, a beautiful woman straddling his lap, feeding him grapes from her delicate fingers. Another kissed along his neck, her breath warm against his skin, while two more danced intimately in front of him, their hips moving with sinful precision.
"More wine!" Horri roared, his voice booming, his hand trailing boldly along the curves of the woman on his lap. His other hand slipped behind another woman's neck, pulling her into a deep, hungry kiss.
The king's lust was legendary. In this room, he was not ruler of a kingdom—he was a man intoxicated by power, flesh, and pleasure.
Chief Koroc, though more reserved, sat nearby with a goblet of wine, a woman massaging his shoulders while another teasingly grazed his thigh under the table.
"My lord," Koroc smirked, "you truly know how to keep the cold away on a night like this."
Horri laughed darkly. "A man must take what life offers him—wine, women, victory." He pulled one of the dancers closer, his hand sliding under her robes, his breath hot against her ear. "And sometimes, Koroc, life offers a man all three… in one night."
The woman gasped softly, a playful shiver running through her as the king's hand claimed her boldly beneath the silks. The other women giggled and pressed closer to him, their hands exploring his body as they whispered sweet promises of the night.
Koroc's smirk faded as he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "But sometimes, my king, life offers something else…"
Outside the palace gates, Thoric knelt in the mud, his hands clutching his tunic, his eyes red with tears. He pounded the ground in frustration as the guards stood unmoved.
"Please! My sons! Ajax! Perseus! They are gone! I beg you, let me speak with the king!" Thoric pleaded, his voice cracking in desperation.
The palace guards crossed their spears, blocking the entrance. "No commoner is allowed inside the palace at midnight. The king does not meet peasants at this hour."
"Please!" Thoric fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "Please! I promised their mother, Janice! I promised to protect them!"
His cries echoed through the stone walls, but the guards remained firm.
Just then, a voice broke through the stillness. "Who is this man? Why does he weep at the gates at this hour?"
The guards turned swiftly. Chief Koroc approached, his cloak trailing behind him, his face curious but sharp.
"Bring him to me," Koroc ordered.
The guards hesitated, then pulled Thoric to his feet and pushed him forward.
Thoric wasted no time. "My sons! They are missing! I found blood… my son's clothes torn… please, Chief Koroc… please help me find them!"
Koroc's expression hardened. He saw the sincerity in the man's broken face and the pain in his trembling hands.
"You four," Koroc commanded, pointing to four palace guards. "Take torches. Go with this man. Search the Dark Forest immediately."
"Thank you! Thank you!" Thoric cried, clutching Koroc's arm in gratitude.
The group rode quickly into the night, their torches blazing, cutting through the suffocating darkness of the Dark Forest.
"Ajax! Perseus!" they called into the void, their voices echoing through the trees, but only the sounds of crickets, wolves, and the distant hooting of owls answered them.
The guards grew uneasy. "My lord," one of them said to Thoric, "perhaps we should continue the search at dawn. It is too dark, and dangerous things roam these woods at night."
"No! Please! Just a little deeper!" Thoric begged, his voice desperate.
The guards exchanged uneasy glances but pressed on.
Suddenly—a faint whistle.
Swoosh!
An arrow flew through the air and pierced one of the guards through the neck. He collapsed instantly.
"Ambush!" another guard shouted, drawing his sword.
Before they could react, another arrow slammed into Thoric's skull. He crumpled to the ground without a sound.
"No! The chief ordered us to protect him!" a guard screamed as panic set in.
The night erupted into chaos. Arrows rained from the shadows. The Oriz assassins, hidden in the trees, struck with brutal precision.
The guards fought fiercely, their swords clashing against the trees as they swung blindly into the darkness, but they were outnumbered and outmaneuvered.
Only two guards managed to flee, sprinting toward their horses as arrows whizzed past them.
But the assassins were swift.
One of the fleeing guards was struck in the back and fell from his horse.
The last surviving guard, bloodied and gasping, rode hard toward the palace. He fell twice, his strength failing, but sheer will dragged him to the palace gates.
"My lord!" the palace guards shouted, dragging him from his horse as he collapsed in a pool of blood.
Chief Koroc, still at the palace gates, rushed to him, lifting his broken body.
"My son, what happened? Speak!" Koroc demanded, his heart pounding.
The soldier's breathing was ragged. "We… we were ambushed… in the Dark Forest… the Oriz assassins… they are here."
"Where? How many?" Koroc shook him.
But the soldier only managed to whisper, "Dark… Forest…" before the last breath slipped from his body.
Rain began to fall, soft at first, then heavy, soaking Koroc's cloak and the soldier's bloodied tunic.
A palace guard approached. "My lord, the king requests your presence."
Koroc wiped his face, rage and sorrow burning in his eyes.
Inside the king's chambers, King Horri lounged as though the world was still his toy. "Koroc, you return alone. What troubles you now?"
Koroc's voice was dark, steady. "My lord, the Oriz assassins are here. In the Dark Forest. They have taken lives tonight. They are moving in our lands."
King Horri's playful expression dissolved, his eyes sharp with fear. "The Oriz… They dare return after seven years? Are they here for revenge… for the blood of their fallen king's brother?"
His voice trembled—not from cowardice, but from the memory of the brutal war that had once consumed Erethia.
"We must not be caught unprepared. Summon the council at first light. We plan for war. There will be no sleep tonight," King Horri ordered, his voice low, deadly.
Chief Koroc bowed. "It has begun."
And somewhere deep in the Dark Forest, two brothers—Perseus and Ajax—lay captive, their lives about to be forever changed, their fates intertwined in the storm to come.
The wheel of destiny had begun to turn.
There would be no mercy.