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<\/figure>\n\n\n\nSome prayed.
Some cried.
Most simply stared at the ground in silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because everyone in Velmora knew what happened once the royal champion entered the battlefield.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody survived him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Deep orchestral drums echoed across the fortress while thunder rolled beyond the castle towers overhead. At the center of the arena stood the champion himself beneath the rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sir Garrick.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The king\u2019s execution knight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His black armor was scarred from decades of war and public executions, its surface carrying countless shallow marks left by blades that failed to kill him. Across his back rested a massive sword darkened permanently by old blood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Children throughout the kingdom grew up hearing stories about him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some claimed he defeated entire rebellions alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Others whispered that he no longer felt fear, pain, or mercy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The truth was simpler.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Garrick stopped believing in mercy years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A royal guard dragged another prisoner toward the execution block near the center of the arena.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The boy looked barely sixteen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thin.
Terrified.
Crying openly through bruised lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPlease\u2026\u201d the prisoner begged weakly. \u201cI didn\u2019t steal anything\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The crowd above laughed immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One noblewoman smiled behind her jeweled mask.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey all say that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
King Vaelor watched silently from the highest royal balcony beneath a canopy of black silk while rain tapped softly against the iron crown resting upon his silver hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Unlike the nobles surrounding him, the king did not laugh anymore during executions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But neither did he stop them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The prisoner collapsed to his knees beside the block.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sir Garrick slowly unsheathed his sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The arena quieted eagerly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then the gates exploded open.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The sound echoed violently through the storm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Every head turned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A small orphan child stood alone in the entrance tunnel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Barefoot.
Drenched by rain.
Wearing torn village clothing stained with dirt and ash.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And in his trembling hands\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A broken training sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At first, the crowd stared in confusion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then came laughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Loud.
Cruel.
Effortless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One noble nearly spilled wine onto the balcony floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Several guards rushed forward immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGet him out!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the child ignored them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His breathing shook visibly as he stepped onto the muddy battlefield beneath the rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The broken sword in his hands looked pitiful beside the execution knight\u2019s massive blade.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yet somehow the boy kept walking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Toward Sir Garrick.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Toward death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The terrified prisoner beside the block suddenly recognized him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo\u2026\u201d he whispered weakly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The orphan looked no older than ten.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thin shoulders trembling beneath the storm.
Mud streaked across his frightened face.
Eyes filled with terror he could not hide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But still he stepped forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then finally shouted:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStop the execution!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The arena fell silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not completely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rain still fell.
Thunder still echoed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the laughter vanished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because nobody had ever interrupted an execution trial before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not and survived it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sir Garrick slowly turned toward the child.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The royal champion towered above him like a fortress of black steel while lightning flashed across the arena walls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou challenge me?\u201d Garrick asked coldly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The child visibly swallowed fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Every instinct inside him wanted to run.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The entire arena could see it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yet he tightened both hands around the broken sword anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf I win\u2026\u201d the boy whispered shakily, \u201c\u2026you free him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The nobles erupted into laughter again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One minister nearly choked on his drink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
King Vaelor, however, did not laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He watched the child carefully now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because courage and stupidity rarely looked this similar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The prisoner beside the block began crying harder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStop\u2026\u201d he begged weakly toward the orphan. \u201cPlease stop\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the little boy never looked away from the execution knight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sir Garrick studied him silently beneath the rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then slowly lowered his massive sword toward the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The sound of steel scraping stone echoed through the arena.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you know who I am?\u201d Garrick asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The child nodded weakly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou kill people.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Several nobles smirked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But Garrick did not react.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd you still came here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The boy looked toward the prisoner chained beside the block.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then quietly answered:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe\u2019s my brother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A strange silence followed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because most nobles in Velmora no longer understood loyalty that simple.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sir Garrick stared at the child for several seconds longer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then stepped forward through the rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The entire arena grew tense instantly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One knight near the royal balcony whispered:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThis will end badly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The child raised the broken training sword shakily into both hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It looked absurd.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tiny.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hopeless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yet he refused to move backward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thunder exploded overhead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And suddenly King Vaelor remembered another storm years earlier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Another frightened child standing alone in an arena refusing to kneel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Long before the throne.
Before the wars.
Before he learned survival often demanded cruelty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The memory unsettled him more than he expected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Down below, Garrick stopped only a few feet away from the orphan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The execution knight\u2019s massive shadow swallowed the child completely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou cannot win,\u201d Garrick said quietly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The boy\u2019s lips trembled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen why are you here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The child looked toward the prisoner again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then answered with painful honesty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBecause nobody else came.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The arena fell silent once more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This time even the nobles stopped laughing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something inside the answer wounded the air itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sir Garrick slowly lifted his sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The execution blade gleamed black beneath flashes of lightning while rainwater slid along the steel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The child tightened his grip around the broken practice sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hands shaking violently now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tears mixed with rain on his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But he still did not run.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The frightened prisoner beside the block began screaming for them to stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No one moved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No one breathed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even the storm seemed to pause around the battlefield.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then Sir Garrick charged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The arena exploded into motion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Black armor thundered through the mud while the champion\u2019s sword tore downward toward the child with enough force to split stone apart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The little boy closed his eyes instinctively\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And raised the broken training sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Steel collided.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A deafening shockwave cracked across the arena.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The crowd gasped collectively.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because the broken sword had not shattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It glowed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Faint silver light pulsed through the fractured practice blade while ancient symbols hidden beneath the rust ignited across the steel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sir Garrick froze mid-strike.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The child stared at the glowing weapon in disbelief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And somewhere high above the arena, King Vaelor slowly rose from his throne.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because he recognized those symbols.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Mark of House Aurellian.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The bloodline of the First Kings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Officially exterminated during the Crimson Wars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Officially.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rain hissed against the glowing blade while the little orphan stood trembling beneath the storm holding a sword no ordinary child should have awakened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sir Garrick slowly stepped backward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the first time in eighteen years\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The royal champion lowered his weapon.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The combat arena of Velmora was built to make death feel entertaining. That was the kingdom\u2019s favorite tradition. Rain poured steadily through the open stone battleground while… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1968","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1968","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1968"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1968\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1970,"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1968\/revisions\/1970"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1968"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1968"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moviechilltrailer.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1968"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}