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.

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26. Tristan Torath IV

            Tris went to Jasper’s old tent first. The thing had been torn apart. Feathers floated everywhere, glass shards littered the ground. Bones and beads hung from broken strings, and all the chests were smashed. He found Konni huddled under the bed. Of course, as soon as he grabbed her, she bit him. Jasper’s cat had always hated him.

            This is for you, my friend. Tris knew that Jasper couldn’t hear him, but the cat seemed to relax. Tris wondered if, as Jasper had believed, the cat contained some piece of his mother’s conscience. He hoped not.

            Then, wordlessly, he went to the southern edge of the encampment. There, the Ra’Ziel envoy was preparing to leave. Alexandra was talking to William and Danny, while her father spoke to Anzel. Then they were all leaving. Tris held the cat closer as he watched Ali go. Somehow, Konni’s presence comforted him.

            Just before they were out of sight, Ali turned back. It was clearly her, as all the others rode brown horses. Scanning the few nomads watching, she caught sight of Tris. He met her eyes one last time, and she waved to him. Tris was sure she had seen the cat, because she was smiling.

            Then she was gone.

            Tris only stopped long enough to deposit Konni in his tent and grab his weapons. He chose two curved scimitars, which he sheathed on his back, and a long knife. And, of course, a poisoner’s dagger, hidden up his sleeve. Obviously.

            Anzel’s tent was heavily guarded. Tris’ father hadn’t survived this long through luck. It only took Tris a few seconds and a well-timed throw to kill all three of the guards silently. Of course, that left him without his poisoner’s knife, but he could manage without it.

            Well, Father, you made me what I am. You made me the perfect murderer. Why would you think that I wouldn’t use my gifts on you? Did you truly believe that three men could save you?

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