The Night.
The night was young, the mission just beginning. Taylor, was tasked with a dangerous mission, but he was confident he could pull it off. He was the most trusted protector of the palace, responsible for giving orders and ensuring the safety of everyone within its walls. He had easy access to Dara's room, being his personal guard, but that very fact made his task more difficult. If he were to kill Dara, suspicion would fall on him immediately. He needed to be subtle, leaving no trace.
He approached the guards stationed outside Dara's door, their duty to keep intruders out. They stood vigilant, knowing Taylor was on his way. He could hear their breaths quicken as he approached, the heavy thud of his boots echoing in the silence. They bowed their heads in respect, recognizing their superior.
"Where is the prince?" Taylor asked, his voice low and steady.
"Inside, sir," one of them replied. Taylor nodded, his gaze lingering on the two guards. He tapped the one who had spoken on the shoulder, his eyes filled with a chilling intensity.
Taylor, with a subtle shift in his demeanor, addressed the guards, "I think you two have done enough for tonight. I'll take over from here. You can go get some rest, or perhaps join the soldiers in the dungeon and find something else to do."
The guards exchanged surprised glances. They were accustomed to Taylor's unwavering dedication, his relentless vigilance. They had always worked alongside him, sharing the burden of guarding Dara's room. It was unusual for him to offer them time off, especially when they were forbidden from leaving their post. They knew the consequences of disobedience were severe.
Hesitantly, one of them spoke up, "Excuse me, sir, but is this order from you, or someone else? Do you understand what you're asking?"
Taylor's gaze hardened. He didn't want to waste time arguing with them. He needed to get inside and complete his mission. Any further delay risked attracting Dara's attention, and that would be disastrous. He kept his voice calm, "Of course I do. Now, go."
"Yes, the order came directly from the princess. She said you two should join the others working underground, down the dungeon" Taylor stated, his voice firm. The guards nodded, bowing their heads in respect. They knew better than to question him further. If there were consequences, Taylor would bear them. He had claimed the princess had sent them, so she would share the blame if anything happens. If it was his own decision and he lied about the princess, he would face the repercussions alone. And of course the punishment is going to be a double one for him, for lying against the princess.
With a swiftness born of urgency, they left, leaving Taylor alone before the door, he gently watched them till they were off sight. Then he gently knocked, a subtle gesture that was against protocol. He was supposed to remain vigilant, protecting Dara from any intrusion. He was only permitted to knock if he suspected something was wrong.
King Genesis had established these rules, understanding the dangers that surrounded his son. He had shielded Dara, but Dara seemed oblivious to the threats he faced because he do not understand yet, he's still too young and nieve to understand. He had embraced everyone, treating them as friends, blurring the lines between duty and personal connection. He was eager to prove himself a worthy king, but in doing so, he was putting himself at risk which he don't know.
Dara opened the door without hesitation, welcoming Taylor inside. Taylor stepped in, his movements fluid and purposeful. He didn't wait for permission; after all, he was Dara's friend. Or so Dara believed.
"Oh, Taylor, you're here. I bet you have a lot of work to do outside, but you want to stay for a while. You can stay as long as you like, but I'm feeling so sleepy. Today was so stressful. And.... I think I forgot something very important" He said taking a breath.
"I gave you an order earlier this morning, about Obed, you haven't given me a response about the search, so... what have you found out about his sister? What do you think...?" Dara trailed off, his voice fading as he turned away, lying on the bed and arranging the bedspread.
He waited for Taylor to respond, but there was silence.
"Hmm?" Dara prompted, still expecting an answer. When Taylor remained silent, he was taken aback. This was unprecedented. He couldn't understand why Taylor wouldn't respond. He turned to face Taylor, his brow furrowed.
"I'm asking you..." Dara began, but his words were cut short. He turned to see Taylor raising his hand, a dagger glinting in the light, aiming for Dara's heart. Dara reacted instinctively, leaping out of bed just as the dagger plunged into the mattress.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dara exclaimed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His anger was palpable, but his surprise was even greater. He had reacted quickly, but only because he was Dara. If it had been someone else, they wouldn't have suspected anything amiss, and they wouldn't have reacted so swiftly. But Dara was different. He had a strength, a power that he hadn't fully realized yet. He was, in a way, special.
"I'm sorry, my prince, I'm just doing the job I'm paid to do. I get my cash, and then I leave," Taylor said, his voice devoid of emotion. He lunged at Dara, but the Dara managed to grab his wrist, halting the attack.
Dara's gaze fell upon the dagger Taylor wielded, a chill running down his spine. He recognized it instantly. His father had warned him about this blade countless times. It was the blade that killed gods. Once it touched a being, that being was gone. His father had believed that Dara was a demigod, born of the gods, and that ordinary weapons couldn't harm him. He was immortal. But this blade was different. This blade could kill him. This was the blade that had taken his father's life.
"Taylor, it was you all along! You stole the sword!" Dara gasped, his voice laced with disbelief and betrayal. He couldn't believe that his most trusted friend, his guard, had been responsible for so much pain. He remembered so well that his father told him that he lost the dagger, but how could he explain that Taylor was the one that stole it because he shouldn't even be in existence when that sword was created, it was forged thousand years ago.
Taylor ignored Dara's accusation, pressing his attack. He pinned Dara against the wall, forcing the blade towards his throat. Dara struggled, but Taylor was stronger. He managed to twist, grabbing another dagger hidden beneath his cloak. With a swift, brutal movement, he plunged the blade into Dara's stomach.
"Ugh! Ugh!" Dara groaned in pain, his hand clutching his stomach. He knew instantly that Taylor intended to finish him off with the god-killer blade. He didn't hesitate. He scrambled away from the wall, his injured body screaming in protest, and dashed out of the room. Taylor was right behind him, the glint of the blade catching the torches.
Dara ran through the corridors, his screams echoing through the silent palace. He expected someone to come to his aid, but he was alone. The guards were nowhere to be seen. He reached a window, the cold night air washing over him. He knew there was no other choice. He had to escape. He was high above the ground, but he had no time to think about the consequences. He leaped.
He landed hard, the impact sending a shockwave through his body. He lay there, gasping for breath, his vision blurring. He knew this wasn't an ordinary attack. This was orchestrated. And he knew who was behind it. The princess. He had long suspected that she envied him, that she craved his power, that she wanted to overthrow him. Now, his suspicions had been confirmed. Because there is no way Taylor would just wake up and start demonstrating such acts, it's either he was convinced by the princess or something else deceived him.