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“I showed them a passageway out of here.” Evelyn made it to the foot of the throne. She rested one leg on the step.
“We will find them. They are surrounded.”
Evelyn nodded. She attempted to hide the smirk across her face with her hair. It did not work. “True. They are surrounded.” The word was plaything in her mouth. “Only, so are you.” She looked to her right. The jewelry, gold, and other pieces of the dragon’s horde sat on the steps untouched. “You want to be king…” her voice was unsure. Less weak, more a bridge under construction. “Why?” She returned back to looking at Olivier. She took a second step up the throne. She heard the twang of a retracting bow string. She felt Colt’s arrowhead aim at her head.
“I do,” Olivier said. He rested his head on his fist. He used his free hand to hold up a stop. Colt lowered his bow and arrow. “I deserve it. I have lived through so much and yet very little has actually changed. I am going to change things.”
“It just means some of us have to die.”
“Sacrifices have to be made. It is not prefered, but cannot be helped.”
“Sure.” Evelyn stepped her back foot onto the second step, balancing herself out.
Troforsect and the rest of his Blues marched into the throne room. Their steps tapped in sync on the cobblestone floor. The footfalls were metallic and echoed double throughout the hall. He kept his arms at his side. The troops fell in behind him in a triangular layout pattern. “We searched the rest of this floor and have sent men into the caverns from the kitchen.” He looked away. “We have not found them yet.”
“You will,” Olivier said. He tucked his hand into his robe. Troforsect, Colt, and the rest of the soldiers exclaimed in pain. They grabbed their heads like they were sharing the same migraine. “That is your only option.”
Evelyn stared at the cowering soldiers. Breath left her lungs in a sudden gasp. She grabbed her arm. She felt like she had to hold onto something. That was all she could find. The moans of pain filled her eardrums. She felt herself begin to tremble.She bawled her fist. “You said you are better than the rulers we have had before, correct?” She turned to face the would-be king.
Olivier pulled his hand out of his robe and placed it back on the throne’s armrest. “Because it is true. I actually have magical powers.” He looked at the two ends of his staff on the ground. “I had. That will be fixed presently. That is not the only reason however.” He leaned forward in the throne. “They have not had to work for anything. They were granted their thrones by the rite of their own made up religion. I have real religion. Real power.”
Evelyn checked behind her. The soldiers released their skulls. They shook their heads free, then returned to their normal position. “Interesting. You say they have no power but their own tale, but those same kings and rulers do not need magical knives to make people follow them. Why else do you think the current king has it stored in his basement!”
“Enough!” Olivier bashed the bottom of his fists onto arm rests. “I have let you talk because you enjoy the sound of your own voice so much I wanted to give you the courtesy of talking one final time.” He lifted himself up. “I hope you enjoyed it.”