This story is not for the faint of heart, for within this text lies the terrible horrors of the dark ages. To those who continue to read, you have been warned...

I awoke that morning to the loud cursing of a crowd to the king’s men. You may be asking “Well, what could possibly be wrong with the king’s men?” The simple fact that they support him is enough to hate them. Our king, King Steven, was a satanist of sorts. He happened to be the cruelest, yet powerful monarch who ever ruled our fine country of Tristram. As I finished tightening my leggings to a comfortable position, I heard the king’s announcer shout over the vulgar comments ”Hear ye, hear ye! Thy king is upset with how wealthy many of you common folk are becoming, therefore he has decided to cut your wages and wealth by fifty percent.” one of the protesters yelled out “fifty percent!? Why that’s a mere 8 shillings!” “That is not thy king’s problem, good sir. Now please kindly hand over the other 8 shillings or suffer King Steven’s... displeasure.” The man behind the announcer brandished his axe menacingly. I sauntered down to breakfast and after finishing my haggis I ran out my door yelling, “what in the name of the lord is going on here? 8 shillings that’s outrageous!” “Why if it isn’t Ezekiel Seansson!”, one of the women in the crowd said. “If you have a better suggestion, you can discuss it with thy king and queen!” He replied. “Oh I will, believe me, I will.”

*
Eight hours later I was waiting in line to be executed. Looking back, I remembered that the whole battle started shortly after I arrived at the castle, just as was planned.
Three months earlier, it started when my mother and father died and the king refused to help me take care of my brothers and sister, Joseph, David, and Alexandria. I planned on attempting to sneak into the castle and assassinate the king alone, but when my friend read my journal containing my plans he shared them with everyone who would listen and soon I had my own, personal, armed force. In the weeks following we trained in sword fighting, physical strength and strength of mind. We also planned our revolution and a few people even joined the king’s personal and general guard to learn more about the castle structure and map out all the rooms, corridors, secret passageways, and such.

Now the moment had arrived, and what a moment it was. I knew what was going to happen, of course. The guards escorted me to the king’s meeting room at weapon-point. Once I got to the king’s meeting room I immediately asked if I could havean apple, King Steven eyed me suspiciously, but nodded his head and said “Aye”. The softness and innocent sound of his voice, I had expected something like a coarse growl or a dull croak. In fact, the silky smoothness of his voice almost made me wish not to continue with the plan. This is the man that had your parents executed for working two careers, I thought. I quickly ate the apple and dropped the core out of the tower window,
*
Meanwhile, David was watching the very same window with his spy glass. When he saw the apple core, he shouted to the townsfolk “that’s the signal, CHARGE!”
*
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw all of my army from a distance and was very proud and surprised of my natural talent to gain the admiration of people. I quickly closed the window and proceeded to talk to the king. Within 2 and a half minutes of conversation, however, there was a loud BOOM BOOM BOOM coming from below us. Suddenly, one of the king’s soldiers burst through the door and shouted “My lord, the townsfolk are revolting and...” “wait, wait, wait, why don’t you just slaughter them? They’re merely common folk.” King Steven ejaculated loudly. “They have been trained and are heavily armed with decent quality weapons!” It was at that very moment I swung around and killed the guards behind me and the king’s announcer with my dagger. I then proceeded to drag the soon-to-be dead king by his elk skin mantle onto the balcony where both armies could see him ( for the battle had quickly moved outside) I held him above my head and screamed, to the best of my ability, for all to hear, “thy damned king is dead!”, and proceeded to throw him off the balcony.
*
The battle was won but the war was lost. While the king’s son, Steven the II, detested his father’s love for wealth, and made the promise to all those who played no major part in the battle that he would disperse 30 percent of his newfound money amongst the common people, he also felt obliged to avenge his father, meaning he had to execute the people who were the most involved in the revolution, David, Joseph, and I. When my head was put on the chopping block, I made one final request, “I will consent to being tortured in the dungeons if you let David and Joseph free.” King Steven II replied “ I will not send you to the dungeons, but I will grant you your brother’s life. I may also debate making him a duke.” The last thing I ever said was “You will be a decided improvement on your tyrannical father.” The last thing I ever heard was the swish of an axe and a Guillotine falling
*
This isn’t right however, I was supposed to be dead. Why was I still conscious? Is anyone else here? As if to answer my question, a woman of inexplicable beauty stepped into my line of vision. For a few moments she merely looked at my clothes with surprise. When I looked down, I noticed I was still covered in my own blood. Why was she surprised? Didn’t she witness the battle that just occurred?The woman snapped her fingers and all of a sudden, I found myself wearing a set of white robes with golden lining. I looked above my head and all my questions were answered, I was dead. There was a halo above my head, meaning I was in the Heaven. “Why am I here?” I asked. The woman replied with “You are here because you had the courage to stand up for what you believe in, even if it meant death. My son, you are home.”It wasn’t until then that I realized that this was my mother. Soon after my father stepped into the light, accompanied by an unnaturally tall man. “My name is Imperius, and it is your time of judgement.” He then looked at my father and said, “bring out veritaserum.” I knew what this was, it was the feather of truth. It was what decided whether or not I was worthy to stay in heaven. I had to hold it in my hand and say, “I belong here.” Imperius Held the feather out to me and I took it. After I said what I needed to say, it felt like the few seconds before the feather made its choice were each an eternity to end all eternities. Then the feather floated into the air and back to Imperius, and together, we all walked to the very end of our journeys.