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    JMH
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Centurion - 3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

The Return of the Father

Amid the Tosian Mountains,

Lies a great city

A city of white and blue...

And near this great city

The mighty river Qulos

Thunders by

Qul Tos, Qul Tos,

Our city of silver and gems

Qul Tos, Qul Tos

The city of the Labyrinth we praise...

First stanza and chorus of the Tosian Anthem

 

A blue and silver clad guard ran toward the white stone palace, he could not shake off the look of fear on his face. Three legions... — three! — were approaching the walls of the capital city of Qul Tos. Fifteen thousand of the most dangerous men in all of Ares were coming.

While the city’s garrison of over thirty thousand was mostly made up of barely trained conscripts, the army approaching the walls was not made up of normal warriors... they were Centurions, trained from birth to kill. After only six years, the memory of how the Tosian army had been slaughtered at the Battle of the Gate was still fresh in the minds of everyone in the East.

Running the entire length of Labyrinth Way, the main road that lead from the city’s gate to the royal palace, the guard passed the gigantic, white stone blocks of the outer palace, the deeper into the areas where the walls and floors were as pink as the granite mountain they had been carved from. Having once been a marble quarry, it had long ago been chiseled out into hallways and chambers, colored with large stained glass windows in shades of blue.

As he approached the open doors to the throne room, he did not notice the stream of nobles being led out of the vaulted chamber, nor the loud scream coming from within the chamber.

Rushing halfway up the grand hall, with its decorated blue and

white marble floors and pillars, the guard went down on one knee,

his body trembling. “Lady Regent... I beg of you...,” he gasped as he waited for the glint of steel to end his life.

He did not get a response before the Queen Mother’s female bodyguards slammed him down fully on the floor, his nose breaking on the blue and white stones, splattering it with blood.

“What is the meaning of disrupting me in this fashion?” the

cold-eyed Regent fumed, the firm hands that had been gripping the

arm of her son suddenly released.

Tall and slender, her blond hair pulled in a tight bun, her skin as pale as the white marble that decorated the hall, Eleanor was more than an imposing figure. She dominated those around her with her cold blue eyes, taking the very warmth from the room.

His voice was now a nasal buzz, owing to his bloody broken nose, the guard stammered; “My Lady...three Centurion legions are approaching the city.”

The Regent slowly lowered herself on the silver throne, her face even more pale and clammy. Tapping her long talon like nails on the polished metal, the chamber filled with an ominous clicking sound. “Kill him,” she finally decided, pointing to the guard who had foolishly entered unannounced.

“But Lady?” the guard shouted as two of the female bodyguards took hold of him and started dragging him away. A few minutes later they came back with his head.

“Never let a man in my presence like that again or it might be your heads I take next,” Eleanor warned her guards as blood dripped on the white tiled floor from the head of the now dead guard.

 

Jason was still screaming uncontrollably, his eyes filled with

fear as he cradled the arm his mother had tried to snap.

Out of all the stories he had read... it was supposed to be the wicked stepmothers who treated their child like this, not one’s birth mother. That was why Jason once again imagined that the Regent was not his real mother. Any other child would start thinking that, but Jason also believed he had somehow deserved the foul names his mother called him by.

His eyes, however, were on Melissa, captain of queen’s guards. She had been his protector and at times the mother Jason wished he had. Whenever his real mother would lose her temper with him, Melissa was always there to protect him. In many ways, the guard was the closest thing to a mother or a friend he had in this world.

“Your majesty... this is not the time to harm the boy,” Melissa warned. With the Centurions on their way, the captain felt a special urgency in stopping any harm to the prince. Eleanor shoved her son in Melissa’s direction, still ignoring his cries of pain as she handed him over to her chief bodyguard. She did not notice how Jason clung to Melissa as if his life depended on it, his tears wetting her neck.

“Take him to the Tower! I never want to see him in the palace again!” Eleanor ordered, her once perfect face now splotched with red, spit shooting from her mouth with each syllable.

“Yes Regent,” Melissa bowed meekly as she wrapped her own arms around the boy, cradling him gently.

Climbing the stairs behind the throne, Eleanor left the throne room for the balcony above. The Regent cursed as she watched fifteen thousand Centurions march in perfect formation toward the walls of her beautiful city.

Now that the nobles knew the truth, without her son the people would revolt and either send her back to Tal Sith in humiliation or have her blood join the large stain that marred the chopping block in the

courtyard. No... she dare not kill Jason now. For better or for worse their lives were now entwined.

This work is the original creation of the writer who holds all rights to it. 2011 All rights reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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There are names for "mothers"like her. And it bloody well isn't mother or derivative of it. Bitch is a mild term

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