Royal Imitation | Kylo Ren

Royal Imitation

There was a sudden shift in the air as two polished black shoes cross the court of stone, which curled around the edge of the kingdom walls. 

The raging fire that adorns the greenery of the castle still spits and sputters embers into the smothering darkness of the sky, but I have no morality to catch the falling ash, as my hands are practically bound with the distress of my fragile humanity, which is being threatened by the blaster pressed against my head.

Once the voice that belongs to the pair of clicking boots speaks out to the guard who's finger is dangerously close to the trigger, a shiver trickles down my spine and ignites a further fight within my fragile bones as the blaster is immediately pulled away from my skull, the moment the voice demands to open the gates which save us from the wrath of the rebellion, in a tone of total authority.

As the guard lifts his helmet to the figure behind me, I can feel the sweat drench my skin, the throbbing of my own eyes, the ringing sound of the safety being unlocked from his blaster vibrating in my ears, and the thumping of my heart against my chest. My fingers are curled into a fist, nails digging into my palms to feel blood trap beneath them. I can't hear my rapid breathing, but I can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of my lungs in this slow of time. 

The head guard of the royal court bows, and places his blaster back upon the clipping of his belt, "Prince Dayvis." He announces, causing the dozen other guards who all wore the same armour as the soldiers from The First Order, to look over and bow their heads, as the rebellion still thud on the other-side of the gates which they keep locked tight.

I couldn't move, but I could feel the Prince standing tall from behind my cowered frame. The floor remained cold and my body tensed as he chuckled low. All my senses were clouding in the mass of prominent confusion, all I could taste, smell, breath, see, was blood – Jorkhan was becoming a cruel bloodbath of three different waves of ruling, and I fear that I am in the middle of every thrash and strike. I previously presumed that Prince Dayvis would have been locked away from the battle, hiding away in his chambers before someone from either The Resistance or The Order, came to find him and tear away his crown – But no, here he is... Standing tall, with his golden crown perched perfectly upon his brown hair. 

Ever so slowly, my eyes looked up and met his as I used my grazed palms to push my kneeling body to face him. I was expecting a scowl to be bestowed down upon me, as I crouch on the stones in the same manner as I had when the kingdom collected me from the slums and placed me in a line of faces similar to my own. Besides the casual twitch of the eye, and a small plain smirk rising upon the pink of his mouth, there was nothing – The Prince only blinked at me once, before turning his attention back to the dozen of guards and the superior.

"King." Dayvis corrected him, and only then did I realise that with the passing of the imitated Queen, the ruling crown has fallen upon his head and shoulders. The title of the King was something in which young Prince Dayvis had always craved, but it was a shame that he would only lose it on the same day he had gained the power.

King Dayvis, titled his head down to me, but his stern eyes never left the reflection of the guard's mask, "Now, do as she said and open the gates." He snapped.

I wanted to move, and I wanted to stand but as I tremble between the head-guard and the Prince, I find that I was still so close to the blaster which had just threatened me, and some other guards still held tightly onto their own, as they lingered around. I couldn't just die now, but the ultimatum is still loaded in the kingdom's barrels, all while the Order unloads theirs upon the people.

There was still too much going on inside my head, and I didn't think it would ever stop. Moving now would be too risky, to dangerous... And the Prince is remarkably requesting the same thing which I had – The only difference was, he now had the power and title to demand it, instead of ask.