Clouds blocked the sky, cutting off the light from the shimmering diamonds across the world below. The land was swathed in darkness, as if a blanket of shadows had been dropped gently, the webs of black fluttering in the air before settling on the sleeping kingdom. Nothing stirred. The Nightmares had taken rest, as well, staying well away from the peaceful rest of the people. Nothing stirred, not even the wind. The silence was a thick as the darkness. As the morning drew near, the clouds were dipped with black ink. The sky rumbled in dissatisfaction, hiding the rising sun behind the army of clouds. The air was ripe with electricity.

Inside the palace, the air was equally static. More than half of the people were awake and alert, milling around in their respective rooms or in the arena, pacing, thinking. Most of them were clad in armour while others still dressed. The rest of the people in the palace were asleep, oblivious to the future that was going to grip them in a short while.

I stood in my room, watching the clouds flicker with bursts of light. I was clad in my armour already, doing nothing but wait. I'd left the doors of my balcony open. Cold, crisp air rushed in, having more space to roam.

I ran through the plan in my head for the hundredth time. I knew every minute detail, but I still couldn't fight off the feeling that something was going to go wrong. Not for the first time I wondered what I was getting the rebels into. Yes, Larkin had formulated the plan, but he was not there to see it executed. I was the one left behind. I was the one responsible for the blood that would flow.

I glanced down at my sword. I really hoped I didn't kill anyone.

A knock on my door was followed by a guard peering inside. "The king requests your presence," he said. I nodded and followed. I could feel the weight of the necklace around my neck.

We had got word less than half an hour ago that the kingdom of Ikrisvane were going to come to war. True to their word, the rebels who had not come with Larkin to the palace had placed tents and even though their number was few, managed to look as if more than a thousand soldiers were waiting to attack the city. A servant of the king's confirmed that a large camp had been built right at our borders. It would take them less than a day to reach and when they did, they would not be merciful. The army had flown into a frenzy. Battle formations were being perfected and positions practiced. I had avoided the helter-skelter of their rehearsals because being there would only worsen the anxiety burrowing in my stomach.

The guard hesitated at the king's door. "Good luck," he said at last. He smiled and I noticed he had eyes that mirrored the grey outside. I smiled back and wished him the same.

I realized as he walked away that I didn't know his name. I had lived in the palace for six months and in all that time he had been the same guard who escorted me to and from the king's chambers. So many times had I walked with him, and never did I think to ask his name. There was a person under than gleaming armour who probably had a wife and children. If I went through with this battle, it would probably uproot his life if he survived it. How many lives was I willing to destroy to get what I wanted?

The doors to the king's chambers opened and I didn't have time to dwell on it. Inside, Aaron was sitting on a chair, nibbling on a piece of toast. He didn't notice me when I entered.

I cleared my throat. "Your Majesty?"

Aaron looked up. "Ah, you are here! I take it everything is ready for the war?"

"Yes, sire," I said. "Will you not be joining us?" I asked, noting his lack of armour.

He chuckled. "No, no. Look at the state of me. I could not lift a sword, let alone fight." Well, I couldn't disagree with that. "No, I called you here for a reason." He got up from the seat and went to the far corner of the room and beckoned to me. "Come here."

I walked over, one hand on the hilt of my sword, more out of comfort than actual fear. He pushed his meaty hand against the wall, and the wall slid back.

My eyes widened, startled. I didn't have to fake surprise this time. I hadn't realized there was another entrance to the passage. Of course, this could be a completely different secret passage and could lead somewhere else. If that was the case, then exactly how many secret passages ran down this palace?

This passage, unlike the others, was sufficiently lit. Aaron shut the wall as soon as we stepped inside and my grip on the sword tightened. "Where are we going, sire?" I asked.

"You shall see."

I followed the king down the corridor. The walls here weren't moist, but rather well constructed, like the ones of the palace. It occurred to me that this must have one been a part of the original palace and later sealed off.

The corridor panned into a wide, circular room, with six doors. I spun slowly around in the middle. "What is this place?"

"This is where I conduct my research."

"Research?" I asked.

He gestured to a door. "Please, follow me."

The room was small, with vials of different coloured liquid bubbling on shelves. "Be careful not to knock anything over," warned Aaron, somehow shifting his bulk without hitting anything. "They are dangerous and will kill you."

"Is it wise keeping them all together, then?" I asked.

"I have nowhere else to keep them."

The room smelled slightly metallic and overwhelmingly sulphuric. "Might I ask why you have all these potions?"

"I conduct experiments," he said, reaching out and plucking a thin tube of copper-blue liquid. I was afraid it would shatter in his grip. "I test out different concoctions so as to see the effects it has on people."

I turned to him at that. "People, sire?"

"Yes," he said, replacing the tube. "To see if there is perhaps any potion to enhance one's abilities."

I 'oh'ed in understanding.

"Which brings me to the reason I brought you here." We walked back into the circular room and he put his hand on another door. "Behold, my secret weapon."

I knew what it was going to be before he even opened the door. I felt my stomach bruise lurch.

The door opened to moans and shuffles. The place reeked like a sewage. A railing extended across this side of the room, conveniently blocking the observer from his subjects. As an added precaution, the people were behind heavy bars that no amount of gnawing or pounding would break.

I felt bile rise in the back of my throat. Hundred pairs of eyes stared desolately back at me, their snarls making my skin burst into goosebumps. The veins on their bodies stood out against their pale, almost grey skin. They only moved because they had nothing else to do.

When Aaron and I had entered their voices grew louder. They screamed in rage and growled maniacally.

Aaron smiled like a proud father, gazing lovingly at the mutants he had created. I took a minute to compose myself, before asking, "What is this?"

"These are Venom injected people. Venom is a potion that inhibits your senses and all you are left feeling is anger. They are all out for blood and are the perfect weapon."

"Where did these people come from?" I asked.

"They are the rejects of society: the poor, the half-dead, the ones no one cares for anymore."

So I had been right. That did not make me feel better. The king led me back outside and shut the door, cutting out the uncomfortable noises from the undead.

"Do they not fight with themselves?" I asked.

"No," he said. My grip on the sword was pain-inducing, but if I took my hand off he would be able to see the shake in it. "They do not recognize each other as other mortals, for some reason. When the battle reaches its peak, I will unleash them. They will destroy everyone."

I hesitated. "Will that not put our own men in danger?"

Aaron shrugged. "That does not matter. At least we will win."

"Does the prince know about this?" I asked quickly. If I dwelt on what he had said, I would probably go mad.

"No," he frowned. "He has become a liability."

"A liability?" I knew where this was going. I felt a pang. Did he really not care for his own son?

"Yes, a liability. I believe he may have joined the forces that threaten to oppose me."

"Surely not," I said.

"I believe so. Keep an eye on him, and if he does anything suspicious, end him." Then he walked away, leaving me to follow in his wake.

My hand trembled on the sword. Why could I not kill him right now? What difference would it make if I ended his life right here? I could kill him and nobody else would have to die. 

How would that make you any different from him?

That thought jolted me to sense. Was that what I wanted? To kill him? What if that wasn't enough? What if I didn't stop at the king and instead killed everyone who opposed me henceforth? I would become the same. Besides, I did not want to kill him. I knew that. Despite how much I hated the man, I could not bring myself to bend to his filthy level. 

Would you really? Would you not take the first opportunity you got and make him suffer like he did your father and mother? Like he did countless other people? Would you not want to see the light flicker from his eyes, knowing that it was you who brought the kingdom to salvation?

I shook the thoughts from my head. I could not - I would not - kill. Or so I told myself. Blood on the battlefield was inevitable. It was up to me how much of it I draw.

"Go and ready the army," he instructed once we were back in his room. "Make sure everything is perfect. Oh, and Arya?"

"Yes, sire?" I paused at the door.

"Do not make me use my secret weapon."

The threat sent a shiver down my spine. So he knew. He knew, if not the fact that I was a rebel, then the fact that I did not support him. I maintained the same face and nodded once before leaving.

...

The army had gathered in the arena. The men holding the major ranks stood at the front and the army stood stoically behind them, spilling beyond the arena as well. The soldiers were being shouted orders at and were following them to the dot.

I stood at the stairs, watching their practice. Thanks to the faulty training I had introduced them to, I knew that they left many openings in their attacks so it would be easier for the rebels to get a clear shot. Of course, not everyone had been as gullible. Some of the men had ignored my training, the ones who had earned their badges through tough grit and determination, and continued their own way of dealing with things. They were the ones we needed to look out for.

The plan had been that the army would be lured away by the call of battle, and while there was no one left to defend the palace, we would strike. It was a clean plan and completely plausible.

I did not believe for a second that it would work.

If Aaron knew about my being a rebel then he would anticipate an attack like this. That means he would probably have a secondary army stationed somewhere I did not know, provided he did not release the undead upon on us immediately.

"Lady Arya," someone said and I turned around to find Commander Torres making his way towards me.

"Commander," I said by way of hello.

"I am please you found some time from your busy life to oversee our practice. Rest assured, we did not need you them, we do not need you now."

There was definitely no love lost between us.

"As much as I am aware of your capabilities, Commander, I believe the king would not have sent me to supervise if he felt you were capable enough."

I saw his jaw clench.

"We informed the king about your changing our routine," he said. That was clearly meant to be intimidating.

"So?" I asked, feigning boredom.

Now he faltered, unsure of what to say.

"Commander Torres," someone said from behind him. Torres turned to find Lyon in full armour. He nodded once at me. "I believe it is your job to be overseeing the workings of the army, not to wile away your time in conversation." The ice in his tone was biting.

Torres flushed in embarrassment. "Of course, my Lord. I shall be off right now."

"Father said to start moving," said Lyon. "Gather the troops, it is time to leave."

Torres bowed. "Will you be assisting us, your Majesty?"

Lyon shook his head. "Lady Arya and I will be stationed here to oversee the secure the palace. We do not have more people simply because we trust you will come back successful."

Torres cowered under Lyon's glare. "Of course, of course," he said, hastily. "We will return victorious."

We watched as the army marched away. A few of the soldiers shot us inquiring looks as they left.

I felt a lump in my throat.

"It is time," I said, almost questioning it.

"It is time," Lyon agreed.

"It is an honor to have known you, Prince Lyon."

"As it is mine to have known you, Lady Arya."