𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖚𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖟𝖇𝖆 𝕸𝖆𝖋𝖎𝖆

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

The sky seemed to be glowing tonight, in the early hours of the twilight, with the stars only gently shining, almost fading into the depths of the near morning. A gentle hush of the wind gently touched the trees around it, causing an almost light sway. But unwelcomed from the rest of the sky, the new crescent moon was soon disappearing, making room for the sunrise. Unaware of the tinges of pink and orange starting to appear in the sky, a hooded figure hurriedly paced away from the intimidating Château that towered over the forestry below it. Hiding within the shadows of the moat, the figure waited. 

The silence that had hushed the kingdom of Aruba was abruptly disrupted by a menacing scream, echoing from the grounds of the château- home to the royal family of Aruba: The Rizbas. With the sudden disturbance of the early hours of the morning, all lights in the Rizba château were suddenly on, curious as to what may have occurred. But one person remained quiet, slowly beckoning away from the castle. 

'You're highnesses, it's the Sultan, he's...'

'Oh good Lord. Ok not to worry not to worry. Call my mother right away.' The distinct voice of a male calmly stated. 

'Arsan what is it?' The intrigued voice of a female ushered.

'Ma-'. But the male could not finish his sentence, almost crying. 

'Your graciousness, we should call the royal Vizier. The king has-'

'no no no it can't be, Arsan no.'  

The hooded figure still remained in the silhouettes of the castle grounds  looking at the flag of the royal crest of Rizba as if waiting for a cue to leave. The royal blue flag that lay at half mast was now replaced with a black, baring the royal family crest at the centre: representing mourning. 

'March 6th 1956 to January 20th 2018. It is with great sorrow that her royal graciousness has announced the death of her husband the Sultan, who reigned for 45 years. He started reigning at the age of 17 and has eased on to eternal peace at the age of  62.  The title will now be passed on to the royal Prince Arsan. We wish the royal family our deepest condolence and sorrow' A speaker from the castle blared loudly, as two loud bells bellowed in unison, echoing the kingdom. 

Smirking to themselves, the figure beckoned their phone and hurriedly darted away from the Rizba château. 

'The deed has been completed sir. The king, Sultan Azul Rehaan Aadin-Ali Rizba is dead'

'Good. Ensure you come back safely, so that no traces of you are discovered.' 

'Yes sir.' 

And with that, the figure had disappeared.