The man deftly pulled out his blade from his assailant-to-be and with a graceful twirl, wiped the blood-soaked blade on the assassin's garments themselves before he fell to the cold marble floor with a dull thud and a faint groan, his heart now pierced and bleeding all over the beautifully painted marble, a look of terror plastered on his pallid face. Shling...! The longsword was in its sheath and the attendant who had been cowering behind a column all this while slowly crept out from behind the pillar, shaking from head to toe, a golden royal gown in his hands. "Mi-milord, are y-you okay...?", the attendant whispered, the same terror on his face that the assailant had on his face. The half-naked man who had his back turned to the attendant presently turned around to face him, raising both his arms as he did beckoning for the gown. "A-At once, Your Highness...!" The attendant scuttled forward and draping one sleeve over the man's right hand, carefully circled around him draping the other sleeve on his left hand and then shifting the hem to arrange it properly. "That was..." the man began in a strangely sing-song, almost lost tone, "... a nice warm-up. Exercising is nice for the body. Won't you agree, Desmond...?" "Y-Yes, Your Highness Lord Zeneth." "But do tell me, what's so terrifying about me...?" The look on his face was that of amusement, replaced then by a smile as he turned his head to regard the shivering attendant. He looked back at the corpse bleeding all over the floor. "That...?" He continued on, "Oh, that was nothing. I am a bit rusty is all. Would you mind clearing that up...?" "Y-Yes at once, Your Highness. If you would proceed to the throne room, they await your return." "Ah, but of course. Then I shall go..." King Zeneth was tall and graceful, his jet black hair-which he tied using a blue ribbon-falling all the way down to his belt and his pale skin a sign of the partial albinism that he had, and that also made his eyes a beautiful blue instead of the red that people with albino usually have. Pushing aside the tall double doors leading into the Throne Room, Zeneth walked into the brightly lit room chock full of people whispering and frantically waving at each other, obviously well-aware of a break-in and attempt at assassination. Quietly pacing in, as if gliding, Zeneth took his place on the throne taking in this most anxiety-inducing scene in front of his eyes. The throne room was a massive hall with rows of columns on both sides and a raised platform with stairs leading up on one end and huge double doors on the other end. The massive throne was at the top of the raised platform with two smaller thrones on either sides of the throne and furthermore, a number of seats on either side of the hall each of which was attached to each of the columns all of whom were arranged at an angle facing the throne. The hall was lit up with light pouring out of chandeliers hanging from the arched ceiling with golden lining. "Silence..." Zeneth raised his voice over the din drawing the crowd's attention to the throne. "I am well aware that you are all concerned about my well-being and hearing about this assassin must have made you all very anxious. Well, you shall all be happy to know that the threat has been eliminated, all thanks to my trusted personal guards who were present in the chamber with me at the moment the vile assassin showed his face. I am safe and healthy." Upon finishing his speech, the crowd shuffled at their spot unsure of what to do. The double doors were pushed apart as a number of figures, most of whom were dressed in armor and battle clothing walked in, all of them moving in sync, their weapons catching the light and shining even as the fabric on their clothing fluttered as if trained to do so in a certain way. Their boots rung out altogether causing a din greater than the one that had just been going on. "Leave..." Zeneth raised his voice again causing the crowd to turn and look at him once more. "... NOW." The people who had gathered moved to the sides of the hall to allow these figures to pass in unhindered. Shifting uneasily behind the columns, the common men left the hall shutting the doors behind them. "Come... my Angels. My Harbingers of Order. My Assassins, my Knights. My Regaliours." _______________________________________________ As with everything, even a generation has to end and that is what was happening at the Throne Room this day, the outgoing Regaliours had all gathered. "I do hope you hold no regrets at all," Zeneth chimed as he climbed down the stairs approaching the center of the Hall where the Regaliours now stood facing the double doors. "Can I request you all to take your Helms off and hold them at your sides...?" The Regaliours one by one started reaching for their Helms and as they took them off, one could see that they had indeed carried the weight of the world on their own shoulders. Each was scarred and marked in the most brutal ways. Some wore eyepatches, others bandages and padding. Others still had a face full of scars and such. Each of them had served and had paid greatly for it and it was time that they rested for they had indeed earned an eternity of rest. "Desmond," Zeneth started, ", call the young Regaliours from their rooms. They need to be up here within the next 15 minutes. Hurry now." Desmond bowed low and at once left for the Rooms located on the lower levels of the Needle-shaped palace as the sun peeked out from behind the Mountains to the east. Dawn had struck. "We have a new era to usher in."