The Eighth Century

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Chapter 1

The Pawn

Black. Pitch black. That's all I could see and probably would ever see in the next couple of hours. I was dreading the light, for when I finally saw it, my trial would start. The only thing that could happened is I'm found guilty and put into the guillotine.

I felt the executioner's big, meaty hand pull the bag off my head. I found myself in a huge, octagonal room. Golden, metal pillars lined the walls. with the Kings sitting on front of me in his throne, with the Prince sitting in his own throne next to the king. On the opposite side of her throne, sat the empty chair of the Queen Cilia.

All the villagers had came up to the castle to see the ruling, the trial had happened earlier. I could feel every pair of eyes, staring down at me, fixed on my body. All of their eyes showed their feelings toward me. Most of them glared at me with hatred and disbelief. Others with saddened looks and scared looks. I looked up and saw my daughter in the arms of my eldest son's arms, crying her little heart out.

"Silence in the court! My decision has been made!" The mighty King Tyrin called out. The man was never the same after his Queen's death. He was a changed man, with nothing to live for, who didn't care for anything else, not even his own son.

"I have found Sir James Harris guilty of all charges. His sentence..." The King paused and stood up, glaring straight down at me. "Execution."

Screams of joy and sadness erupted in the audience.The faces of people who knew me showed grief and disbelief. Many couldn't believe I could do such a crime. Other people, though, loyal to the king, were glad about the justice that was going to be served.

The executioner gripped the ropes that bonded my hands together. He through my body into the guillotine. They locked my hands and head into the hold and locked the top of the contraption.

The room suddenly got quiet as the executioner lifted up his ax to my neck. I looked up at the crowd at my family. The look in my son's eyes holding my daughter was haunting. He knew it should be him instead of me, but when he told me I wouldn't let him. He was starting an uprising and he knew what he was doing. A change needed to happened, and he was going help set it in motion. Me, I'm just the pawn. The one guy who dies to gain better fielding.

I looked up at my family, they're eyes being bawled out. I looked over at the crowd, their rowdiness was either for or against me. And finally I looked straight up, with the executioner's eyes staring down, hating his job, but he knew what he must do as he swung the ax down, straight towards my neck. One finally breathe, I looked at my brave son, it was his turn now.


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