The Kakos Realm: Grinden Proselyte

Chapter 1

"Tonight I will murder the King of Jand in his own bedchamber." The vehemence of those spittle-flecked words convinced the nearby trio of Rashnir's sincerity.

Kevin locked eyes with Rashnir. His proclamation of hate lingered like a foul odor. Rashnir stood as Kevin wondered aloud, thoughtfully tapping his chin. "Is this hatred," he asked, "Or is it justice?"

"I don't know that justice truly exists," Rashnir said. "I'll leave that for you to decide, Holy Man. I am a man of action and a man of the sword; I go to do what must be done. I will return and thank you nonetheless. You have fulfilled your end of our bargain."

Rashnir bowed as he threw on the cloak Kevin recently provided him with and strapped a short sword to his hip. "You have given me the things required to purchase my vengeance; moreso by giving me your ear and restoring my confidence than the use of your sword. I could not continue living without my honor; believe the tale I told you or not. You have helped restore a small piece of my honor."

"You do care about justice," Kevin mused as he looked at the warrior's hands. Those strong hands were covered in thick, ugly scars where the vile leaders of the monarchy had intentionally burned him with hot irons.

"I will be back within two days, or else I am dead." His demeanor struck a solemn tone. Rashnir had nothing to lose. The only thing Rashnir truly valued any longer was his honor. In that moment, his fervor and reckless abandon made him the most dangerous person in the country. Only two potential outcomes remained. He would regain his honor or he would die. Either option was acceptable to the warrior.

Rashnir looked at Kevin and the holy man's two companions. A hesitant trust had formed between them.

"We will wait for you here in the city. We'll stay at the Green Serpent Inn." Kevin nodded, "Two days."

The two bodyguards looked at each other, as if they disagreed with what had just transpired. They stood a full head taller than their ward, and Kevin wasn't short in stature for a human. Agree or not, the two followed Kevin as he departed in the direction of the Green Serpent.

Rashnir watched them depart and silently reflected on how he'd arrived here. He was penniless. But a few years ago he'd been rich and affluent. A year prior to that, he had been equally destitute. Beginning his journey of vengeance, his thoughts wandered back to the beginning—before King Harmarty... even before her.

***

In the dark, young Rashnir sat on his bunk and rubbed away the gunk crusted near his eyes. He didn't bother to light a candle; the sun would be up soon anyway and he would need to depart for the fields where the heat would soon beat down on him. Darkness suited him perfectly fine for now.

He did not look forward to the chores of the estate, laboring all day. Rashnir aspired to much more than a slave's life. He loathed the plow animals and hated the whole farm. Having learned about political jockeying from the farm's owner, Mallow, he disliked only statecraft with greater passion. In the country of Ninda, politics and farming were tied closer than bedfellows.

Rashnir had to muster all of his strength to rise from the sagging, second-hand cot that had been his bed for so many years. He still felt yesterday's tiredness in his bones; his master worked him harder now, ever since his last term as an indentured servant expired.

Dressing himself in a worn-thin tunic and torn pants, he covered the strange, sepia colored birthmark that resembled a matched set of towers with his shirt. Rashnir walked to the paneless window and pulled the rough, leather hides away. Sunlight ripped through the cool darkness, providing him with a clear view of the morning. The rays would only bring him another day of toil mingled with salty sweat.