Karma's Revenge

Written for my father, stepmother, brother, half-brother, and half-sister. I must say, I did copy the last line of King Iutho from a book titled "The Lord of the Clans".

His distressed mistress screeched and nearly broke through the skin of his arm in her death hold. The power hungry w***e looked down at him with panicked eyes and hissed through her teeth "Do something, Iutho!". He regarded her coldly, ice blue eyes staring up at her from his weathered face. "And what is there to do, Gwaur? You brought this destruction upon us." 

"Why... You fat, spineless fool!!! You're just going to let them take what we worked for?! I should have gotten rid of those miscreants a long time ago!" She reached down to slap him, hatred in her plain brown eyes that used to house such false passion. And in those few moments, he examined her features. Her smooth, pale skin had given way to wrinkles. Her amber eyes that used to capture his so and entice desire in him had faded to a muddy brown that could only house hatred. Her once curvy figure had given away to deserts and time. And as her sexual appeal slowly faded, his so-called love for her went with it. 

And then it hit him. This monstrous woman had claimed love for him after the death of his wife in the birth of their children. After the end of his beloved, things had gone bad. He hadn't been able to eat, sleep, run the kingdom, much less take care of the two children. He couldn't even bare to look at them, for even though he knew it was wrong, he blamed her death on them. The doctors could have saved his queen if only the whelps (as he so termed them at a young age) had died. Alas, as he screamed at the doctors to save her and leave the maggots, his beautiful Bereth had grabbed hold of him and stole his gaze with steel in her kind, green eyes "If you let my children die... I will leave you. And never return.". And with that, she left this world and was no more. 

As said before, he couldn't treat his children like they were his. They both looked nothing like their mother, but their habits showed it all. He couldn't stand them. Until Gwaur came to him. 

A dancer, she called herself. But could removing your clothes and swaying your hips in a provocative manner be considered dancing? He had hired her for his entertainment, wondering if pleasures of the flesh could fill the void in his heart. 

And they had. He had always wondered how he could have been so taken by her. He had seen other more honorable women in nothing but their bare flesh, and none other than Bereth had given him that desire. But this was not one of love, it was purely lust. And so, to mend his spirit, he took up with Gwaur. 

Slowly, she began her climb to power over him. It had began with small things such as changing the decorations of his keep or firing this or that maid. It had then turned to bigger things, such as limiting his time with his children. She had always hated them. Detested their very existence because they were from Bereth, and Bereth had been there before her. Her hatred had only increased when she bore his two children. While Bereth's own had been intelligent, studious, clever, and fit to rule, Gwaur's had been slow and evil. She wanted her own whelps to rule so that she could use them as she had used him. And there it was. He was used. There was no love. 

He had been used...

Iutho caught the b***h's hand in his own, and rose up to his full height of 6'5, steel blue eyes staring down into hers. "I have been a fool. I've been your fool and you know it, you treacherous w***e. You always envied her, didn't you? That's why you had to get rid of my children. The true heirs of my kingdom. Did you really think I would let those witless b******s destroy everything I've worked for? Come now , Gwaur, you didn't think I knew all about your plan? Now, get out of my sight." Her wicked feces colored eyes widen in disbelief, and even the eyes of his b*****d children's did as well. Before a word was said, he motioned to his personal guard. 

"Execute my former mistress. And take her whelps out of the country and set them up with all of my wealth in a manor with plenty of servants." He threw off the succubus as she screamed and was dragged away. He turned to his two children, the both of them sobbing. They were so young... He rubbed the head of the eldest, a boy, and quickly kissed the head of his little girl. "Remember, Daddy loves you." Iutho turned to regard the guards. "Quickly. Leave me." The sounds of the bloodshed had been audible just outside the door for little over ten minutes, and he didn't know how much time he had left. Without question, the maggots were removed from his sight and whisked away, and into the night. Just as he would soon leave this life. 

And with that thought, the oak doors were thrown open. He turned to meet his children, the true heirs to his throne.

Princess Ithil of Aeldor was a terrible sight to behold. The long auburn tresses swirled around her face as her robes of the Magi, the color of moonlight, swirled around her figure. Her jade green eyes were narrowed to a point, her lovely features pinched in fury. A smear of crimson blood interrupted the creamy, pale skin. In her elegant, long-fingered hands she held a wicked, double-bladed knife. Though her weapon was small, she didn't doubt she had killed enough of his men with the the weapon and with her own formidable magical prowess. 

Prince Naergon expression was quite different. His face was a mask of stone, his icy blue eyes grim. The lifeblood of who knew many soldiers and guards covered his gold-lined armor. Even the black curls, in some places, carried dried blood. The huge broadsword he wielded with ease. 

And they stood there. And stared. None of the fury or the determination in their eyes faded. Finally, Ithil spoke. "We have come to take what is ours. And to avenge ourselves and our mother." She spat out the words at him, hatred laced into every syllable. Naergon nodded, raising his sword. "You are the only thing that stands in our way. You must die." The words held no emotion. But he knew they would do it. 

"Your time is done here. Karma is finally taking her revenge. We will find the b***h later." Iutho shook his head. "She is dead. And her children are far away by now." Ithil looked a bit put out, but Naergon looked pleased. "It is as it should be, sister. Now come. Let us end this." They looked at each and nodded. Naergon threw down his arms, and began chanting. His sibling started in, and the miscreant King began to feel rather queer. Suddenly, it appeared that a sliver of the very moon fell down through the window, and upon his body. He felt faint. Then another. The chanting increased in volume. And another. At last, the blackness seeping at the corner of his eyes closed. 

He felt his soul slipping from his body, and knew he must say his final words. The last image he saw was the faces of his demise. And with all the strength he had left, he told them, "You... Are what I... Made you. I am... So proud." And with that, he died. The King of Aeldor was dead. 

Author's Note

FULL OPINION

Reviews

[ariel-the-little-mermai..]

I really enjoyed reading this