Our Kingdom Come | KingdomCraft

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ xxɪᴠ - ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ғᴇᴀʀ

OLD YOUTORIA - the Corrupted Kingdom's base of operations

Victory. Simply put. That's what Zelena saw in her visions. Lauren would fall for it. All the deceit and calculations, paired with glimpses of the future, would once and for all secure her place on the Diamond Throne. Zelena could not be prouder of the heir she raised.

And while the Swamp brat may have sowed a seed of truth in Lauren's mind, it would be siphoned by the weeds she cultivated these past decades. After all, who else could Lauren trust but the woman who has kept her alive and in power?

Friends? Zelena laughed. Lauren had none.

"What do I do?" Lauren choked, squeezing her temples as the world overwhelmed her.

"Oh my child, be still," Zelena siezed Lauren's arms, her fingernails like talons, digging in to keep her in place. "Did I not warn you? People fear what they can't control." She spun Lauren around and shoved her forward, now positioned in the opening of the tent. The castle grew dark as the sun's light fell dim, a titan atop the mountain, staring down at the war in the valley.

"You will have power! And that's what makes them afraid of you." Zelena whispered, she turned Lauren back around, guiding her every move, like a figurine, a child's plaything. "You will no longer be under their control."

"Now listen close, because this is the most important part." Zelena pulled her close, the grey of her eyes shook Lauren's soul. "What they fear, they kill."

Lauren gazed up at the towering palace. The whispers of her grandaunt rang in her ears.

"You must kill them first."

THE TROPICAL KINGDOM

"There wasn't much to go through, it seems our archives are quite lacking in this area of expertise," Mat Pat stated, carrying three books in his arms as he plopped it down on the table where Joey sat. "Fortunately, I did find these books, one about The Mystic Art of Necromancy," he picked up the book he was referencing and handed it to Joey.

He took another one and read the title out loud. "The Undead. Although, this one is categorized as fictional. Perhaps it won't be of much use." He set it aside and grabbed the final one, reading it's title silently and opening it to the first page.

"What is that one titled?" Joey asked, skimming through the pages of the book that was handed to him.

"I'm not sure it's of any use, but it's titled: King Hirobrius of House Youtoria." Mat Pat kept his focus on the book, skimming through the first pages.

The fluttering of pages filled the silence. They browsed the books bathed in soft yellow candelight. Each word pulled them deeper into the past but created more doubt about the future.

Joey discovered much about necromancy, just from the brief browsing. He quietly shut the book and turned to discuss with Mat Pat, but saw an intense focus drawn on the scholar's face, that he decided otherwise.

Instead, Joey grabbed the fictional novel, with quite an imaginative title: "The Undead."

Flashes of his own stuggle with reanimated creatures blurred in the book's margins. The story's got them right, so far. The moldy hued rotting flesh, the guttural noise, the brainless motivation of a body without its soul. If he knew better, he'd say the author was an expert.

What was striking was the scribbled rambling halfway through. Going on and on about the power of necromancy on fresh corpses. How the skin isn't a graying decay green, but fresh. How their physical features remain visible. How recognizable they can be as someone you know, someone you've met and loved and hated and lived multitudes of lifespans with. How they'll obey their master unceasingly.