Chasing The Cure

Chapter 1: King Of The Past

15 Years Ago

"Please, Your Majesty, I beg you," the woman cried. She tried to crawl closer to the king but was stopped by a guard pointing his sword at her neck. "Show some mercy, My Lord. He is merely thirteen!"

"His age is irrelevant. What he is, is a thief that must be punished for his crimes," King George spat bitterly.

"He is my only son, Your Majesty, his father died last year on the battlefield," the mother continued pleading. "He just stole a fruit because he was starving, he does not deserve to lose an arm! Please, My King, please! Spare him and punish me instead!"

"You will tell me what that boy deserves? You dare to question your King's judgment?" The King gritted his teeth as he stood up from his throne, his face scrunched up in anger. "Guards! Take her to the dungeons. A few nights behind bars will teach her never to speak against the King again."

The woman sobbed as the guards dragged her away. She wailed not for herself, but for her only child that was sentenced to get his arm cut off for stealing a single apple. But the King did not care for her tears or the fact that his kingdom was starving. His policies were strict, his punishments harsh despite the gravity of the crime committed.

Godric watched with a blank face as his father held court, making judgments one after the other. He wanted to speak up. He wanted to tell his father how unfair and unjust he was. But he could not. He could only hope that one day he would grow up to be a better man.

A better king.

Godric wordlessly followed King George to his office once he was done dealing with all the petty misdemeanors and conflicts between the commoners. He had been shadowing his father for a long time now, and he was not surprised in the slightest by how cruel his punishments were.

"I hope you learned something today, boy," King George muttered as he took a seat behind his desk. "Pour me a glass of wine."

"I did," Godric said as he grabbed the jug of wine from the corner table. He had learned that he would never be like his father. "Can I say something, Your Majesty?"

"Speak."

"That boy...that child who stole a fruit," Godric paused, hesitating. "Perhaps you could be a bit lenient with his punishment? His life has merely begun and he is about to lose an arm. How will he find work after this? Help his family?"

"He should have thought about that before becoming a bloody thief," King George retorted. "You should never show mercy to these criminals, Godric. They are all pests. Bugs that need to be squished. Showing mercy is showing weakness. And a king must never appear weak."

"But—"

"Shut it," the king snapped. "I have made my decision and there shall be no change."

"Understood, Father," Godric mumbled, looking down. He knew how stubborn the king was. The only person he used to listen to was his beloved late wife, and ever since she passed away...his cruelty grew out of bounds.

"Good," King George said. "Leave, now. Tell Frederic I wish to see him now."

Godric grew pale as he looked at his father, who was going over some documents on his desk as he sipped his wine. King George calling Frederic was never good, and Godric feared whatever their father had in mind for his youngest brother this time.

"Frederic is with his tutor right now," Godric replied. It was a lie. But it was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

"Does not matter. He does not need an education anyway," the king scoffed. "That boy is as useless and idiotic as any peasant's child. A disgrace to our name and blood."