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chapter 3 the price of power. (fixed version)

  Haul and Annabell found themselves in the northern snows, riding toward the great Kingdom of Filnora. The weather was strangely warm for the region they traveled, an unnatural calm that unsettled Haul. As they crested a hill, they finally saw it—the great Kingdom of Filnora, bright with color, blending into the horizon like a living dream.

  Haul paused atop the hill, looking out over the vast kingdom before descending. He dismounted, and together they walked into the great Emerald Kingdom, stepping onto the Rainbow Road as it shimmered brilliantly beneath their feet. The gates were forged purely of ruby and sapphire, bound with golden rings that trickled down the sides like molten light.

  When they entered the city, it felt like something a grandmother would tell her grandchildren as a folktale. Roads were made of gold. Buildings stood as tall as the highest mountains. In the center of the city stood a massive water fountain, the size of ten oxen and as tall as fourteen women standing at 167 centimeters, sculpted entirely of pearls. Haul and Annabell were gobsmacked, their eyes drinking it all in.

  Haul spoke in wonder, awe filling his voice.“Have you ever seen something so grand in your life?”

  Annabell did not answer.

  Haul watched the people and noticed that every one of them was beautiful. They walked through the city, eager to experience every inch of its splendor, until their eyes landed upon the king’s castle. It was made of pure emerald, a deep, dark green that glowed softly. Haul imagined himself ruling over such a kingdom. In his heart, his dream burned even stronger.

  He turned to Annabell. “I would like to speak to the king.”

  Annabell nodded.

  They ascended upward until they reached the steps of the king’s castle, but guards stopped them.

  “State your business,” one commanded.

  Haul looked at the guard, then back at the castle. “I would like the honor of speaking with the king.”

  The guard glanced at Annabell, then back at Haul. “You’re not from here, are you?”

  Haul nodded. “You’re correct. We are not.”

  The guard looked up at the castle, then back at Haul, taking a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

  Haul bowed. “Thank you.”

  Once at the top of the stairs, the castle gates opened. Inside, it was crafted from a dozen stones—diamond, emerald, sapphire, and stranger gems Haul had no name for—covering every surface. These stones and gems coated the floors, the walls, everywhere one could look. When the sun shone just right, it was blinding to behold.

  Haul’s gaze landed on the throne of Filnora. It was made entirely of emerald, twenty feet tall and twelve feet wide, with stairs leading up to it. At the top sat the King of Filnora—King Varnath Blackmoor. He was a respected and beloved man; the people of Filnora trusted him with their lives.

  The king motioned Haul and Annabell forward.“Speak of what you will of me,” King Varnath said cheerfully.

  Haul and Annabell bowed, then raised their heads.“Milord, I have a dream of ruling my own kingdom one day.”

  The king smiled.“That is quite a dream you have. But to achieve such a dream, one must sacrifice something—or someone—they hold dear.”

  Haul looked at the king.“What did you sacrifice, milord?”

  The king spoke in a somber tone.“Family.”

  Haul looked down at the ground, thinking.“Milord, if you don’t mind me asking… how did they die?”

  The king looked at Haul and laughed.“Die? No, no. I had to leave them behind. It was a deal I made with a powerful man long ago.”

  Haul chuckled softly. The king then looked between Haul and Annabell.“What are your names?”

  Haul placed a hand over his heart.“I’m Haul Blackmoor.”

  Varnath’s eyes widened.“Blackmoor?”

  Haul nodded.“Yes. You know of my family. We are commoners.”

  Varnath leaned back in his throne and turned to Annabell.“And you, my lady?”

  Annabell blushed.“I am no royal, milord.”

  The king smiled.“I understand, but does it truly matter? I care not for milords or my lords. They are degrading to the one who speaks them. Please—tell me your name.”

  Annabell nodded.“I am Annabell Berg.”

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  “Aye,” the king said, smiling, before turning his gaze back to Haul.“You are a Blackmoor, then. You must know who I am.”

  Haul shook his head.“I do not. The only Blackmoors I knew died when I was young.”

  The king stood and descended from his throne, walking toward Haul.“Was your father Igor Blackmoor?”

  Haul’s eyes widened.“Aye.”

  The king smiled.“I am his brother—Varnath Blackmoor.”

  Haul froze. His thoughts raced.“I was never told about you. I had no idea there was another Blackmoor.”

  The king nodded.“Yes, I know. That was the deal I made long ago. I left when you were just born.”

  Haul frowned.“But that doesn’t explain why you were never spoken of.”

  Varnath smiled.“It was part of the deal. The man wiped the minds of my family.”

  Haul rubbed his face.“But how do you remember?”

  The king chuckled.“Wiping my mind wasn’t part of the deal.”

  He placed a hand on Haul’s shoulder.“What have you been doing with your life?”

  “I was a blacksmith for Duskreach,” Haul said.

  The king nodded.“The first in your bloodline to be so.”

  Haul nodded.“So… you’re my uncle.”

  “Yes,” the king replied.

  “Then how do I become a king and rule my own kingdom?”

  Varnath rubbed his face.“You must give something up of equal weight. That is how all kings of this world gained power. No man can gain power in an honest, clean fashion—it would bring imbalance to the world.”

  Silence fell over the king’s hall before Haul spoke again.“If that is the cost, then so be it. May I ask… do you have a family?”

  “Yes,” the king said.“I have a wife and a child on the way.”

  Haul smiled.“I’m glad.”

  Haul turned to leave when King Varnath called out,“Where will you go next?”

  Haul smiled.“To the Valley of the Dead, to find the gem.”

  King Varnath looked Haul in the eyes, sending chills down his spine. The warmth vanished, replaced with old trauma.“So, you are after the gem as well.”

  Haul rubbed his head.“Yes… you know of it?”

  The king nodded slowly.“I am aware. The gem has drawn all men who aspire to a better life—one with power or without. None who seek it ever return. I advise you not to make this mistake. A dream like yours will end in blood.”

  Haul listened, but his dream was all that mattered.“I understand what you’re saying, but I must try. If I die, then it was all for naught.”

  The king nodded.“Then may the gods be kind to you.”

  Haul bowed one last time and left.

  King Varnath watched them go, muttering to himself,“I fear for your judgment, Haul.”

  Outside, Haul and Annabell walked through the city until they reached the bridge. They mounted their horse and rode toward the Valley of the Dead.

  Days passed before they reached its entrance.

  Haul stood at the edge, staring into the purple trees and grass. He heard the cries of tormented souls and turned to Annabell.“Stay here.”

  She nodded.

  Haul stepped into the valley. Instantly, a crushing weight pressed against his chest. Hands touched him. Whispers filled his ears.

  “Help me.”“Release me.”“You’re going to die—run.”“You are the world’s devil.”

  Haul tried to push forward, but the weight overtook him. He collapsed into a deep sleep.

  He awoke in a white room. Nothing surrounded him.

  “Hello?” he cried.

  He tried to walk, but it felt as though he wasn’t moving at all.

  Then two massive eyes appeared before him. Entire universes spiraled within their irises. The being locked eyes with Haul, pulling him into a trance. He saw his bloodline—the Blackmoors before and after him.

  He was returned to the white room.

  The being spoke a single word.“Power.”

  Haul awoke. Before him lay the gem. He picked it up, his eyes glowing. He saw his dream fulfilled—the Blackmoor name, the most powerful house the world would ever know.

  He smiled.“It’s not a dream. It’s destiny. I was born to be great. I was born to rule, and with this stone, it will come to pass.”

  He turned to leave the forest but couldn’t move. He was pulled back into the white room. This time, a new being stood before him—formed of galaxies, with blue eyes and white hair.

  “Who are you?” Haul asked.

  The being said nothing, only pointed behind him.

  Haul turned and saw a sacrificial altar etched with words:A sacrifice of equal worth must be made.

  The being showed him what must be done.

  Haul looked at the gem in his hand.“My dream… is it worth this much? So much that I would—no. It can’t be. But what if it is?”

  He clenched his fist around the gem. The being nodded.

  Haul returned to the forest. Before him stood the altar and a knife.

  He wept, but he knew what must be done.

  He set the gem upon the altar and left the woods.

  Annabell looked at him, joy in her eyes.“Did you find it?”

  Haul forced a smile.“Yes. I want to show it to you.”

  He helped her down from her horse and took her hand, leading her to the altar. When she saw it, she understood.

  “Haul… why is there an altar?”

  Tears streamed down his face.“I need a sacrifice of equal worth to achieve my dream. I was a fool to think we could rule together.”

  Annabell cupped his face, tears flowing as she smiled.“When you asked me to come, I saw your fixation. I came to see your dream come true.”

  Haul collapsed.“How can you say this? You have to die for my dream. How are you happy?”

  She held his face.“Because I can die knowing I made your dream come true.”

  They clung to each other, weeping. Haul kissed her, their lips meeting one last time. Annabell climbed onto the altar, handed him the dagger, and smiled.

  “Be a good ruler. A kind one.”

  “I will,” Haul sobbed. “I’ll be the best.”

  Their final words were spoken together.“I love you.”

  The dagger pierced her heart.

  Haul watched the life leave her eyes as the gem ignited, fusing into him. He crawled onto the altar, lying beside her body, weeping for hours.

  From that day on, the name Blackmoor became one of fear—and respect. Accepting the gem not only changed the Blackmoor name forever, but set horrors into motion that cursed their bloodline for the rest of their days.

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