Beautiful Hell (Draft 1)

For almost one hundred years, a brutal and bloody struggle for dominance between the kingdom of Ra'Ziel and the plains of Torath has torn the world asunder, raining death and destruction upon the earth. But this war is coming to an end. With only a few descendants of both royal lines living, will there finally be peace? Alexandra Ra'Ziel wants nothing more than to end the feud that took her older brothers from her, but Tristan Torath has different plans. He wants - he needs - retribution for the wrongs he has suffered. And so their story begins. Because anyone can find vengeance, but only a rare few achieve true justice.

Ok yeah, so here's the thing. I'm rewriting this story, so anybody who wants to read the new chapters (as I edit and revise them) can find them on my page. The Movella is titled Beautiful Hell (Re-imagined). And yeah, it's way way way better than this one, but also way more graphic too.


30. Daniel Inyendi

            Danny watched William charge after Alexandra with mute fascination. Then, silently, he watched Alexandra kill the boy. It was strange, how much that surprised him. True, Tristan didn’t deserve to die, but the fact that Alexandra was willing to say it, to defy her father, shocked him.

            And then the order came down the line. At the signal, they charge. The signal came less than a minute later, when Alexandra kissed Tristan. While the world held its breathe, Jepsen Ra’Ziel raised his hand. And his army ran forward, lances raised.

            Danny ran with them. He had no choice. Whatever Alexandra said about everyone making their own choices, it was false. Danny knew that. Danny had lost his choices when that- No. No, he wasn’t thinking about that. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

            They were almost on top of the couple now. The nomads were charging as well. Danny was in the center of the line. In fact, he would trample the couple if he kept going straight. The man beside Danny raised his hand, and Danny panicked.

            He threw himself in the way, parrying the blade, and with one quick motion, killed the man. The strike would have killed both of the two youths. Tris met his gaze for an instant, sheer incredulity showing on his face, then his broken leg collapsed and with a cry the nomad fell.

            Which was lucky, Danny thought, as it allowed his horse to jump over them, rather than through them. Then Danny made a choice for himself. He turned and rode back up the hill, toward the generals, who were surveying the battle impassively.

            It only took a few minutes for Danny to make the second kill of his life. Jepsen Ra’Ziel’s head rolled down the hill. He hadn’t even tried to defend himself, he’d been so shocked.

            “The King is dead! Long live the Queen! Queen Alexandra!” Danny shouted at the top of his lungs. Instantly, the fighting stopped, as castle knights and nomads all stared at him in shock. Alexandra rose up again on her white horse, the picture of a queen, even when almost nude. She turned toward him and nodded. Then Queen Alexandra Maria Ra’Ziel pulled Tristan Torath – the last of the Horse-Lords of old – up behind her, and began the slow plod up to Danny.

            They were halfway there when the arrow hit. It came from behind Danny, from one of the generals. But no, they didn’t have any weapons. No, the shot came from an untrained messenger boy, holding a bow and shaking like a leaf in a strong wind. Danny looked back, just in time to see Alexandra fall from the horse.

            He arrived just in time to see Tristan close her eyes. Tears splashed down on her bloody face and a scream of agony broke the sudden silence. Tris started babbling, “Alone. Unloved. Die alone. No one will ever love you,” again and again. Danny just looked down in shock. Now two Ra’Ziel monarchs were dead, in less than five minutes.

            “The Queen is dead. A broken boy for a broken throne, Daniel. Are you whole enough to take it?” The words echoed in the wind. Danny looked, but the voice seemed to have come from nowhere. He nodded to the wind, realization dawning upon him slowly, like the sun on a cloudy morning.

And Tristan Torath kneeled to the boy who had been his slave. Danny looked about incredulously as, for once in history, the peoples of both Ra’Ziel and Torath united. Under the name of neither. King Daniel Inyendi gazed at his people.

            The King of the Mountain smiled against the wind. His mother’s laughter whistled in his ears. Now your spirit is free, Mother. The Broken Throne is whole once more. Father, Grandfather, whatever you are, be at peace. Phylos’ children will live in peace beside the sons of Tyraesi. Let peace come.

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