THE KING WHO DIED TWICE Chapter 2: The Black Tower
THE KING WHO DIED TWICE
Chapter 2: The Black Tower
The Black Tower should not have existed.
Yet there it stood.
A dark spear piercing the northern horizon.
Visible from every village, every town, every castle in the kingdom.
People gathered in streets and marketplaces, staring at it in horror.
Some prayed.
Some wept.
Some fled south.
Because every child knew the stories.
The Black Tower was the fortress of the Dark Lord.
And according to history, it had been destroyed three hundred years ago during the Last War.
History was wrong.
Thomas knew that now.
History had always been wrong.
By sunset, royal messengers arrived in Black Hollow.
Their horses were exhausted.
Their faces pale.
They carried the same order to every settlement in the kingdom.
All roads leading north were closed.
Travel was forbidden.
Anyone attempting to approach the tower would be arrested.
The king himself had declared a state of emergency.
Thomas almost laughed.
Three hundred years earlier, he had been that king.
Now another man sat upon his throne.
Another man wore his crown.
And that man had no idea what was truly happening.
Because neither the king nor his scholars knew the truth.
Only Aldric knew.
Only the dead king remembered.
And the dead king was now an old farmer.
That night Thomas packed a bag.
A loaf of bread.
A waterskin.
A hunting knife.
Nothing more.
He knew he was leaving forever.
The moment the tower appeared, his old life had ended.
He looked around the cottage one final time.
The fireplace.
The wooden table.
The chair where his wife used to sit.
For sixty-two years this had been home.
Yet somehow it felt like the home of another man.
A man who had never existed.
Before dawn he left.
Heading north.
Toward the tower.
Toward the nightmare waiting beneath it.
Three days later, he reached the King's Road.
Thousands of refugees filled the highway.
Nobles.
Merchants.
Farmers.
Entire families fleeing south.
Everyone carried the same story.
Strange creatures had appeared in the north.
Villages were disappearing overnight.
Livestock found dead without a wound on their bodies.
Entire forests turning black.
Rumors spread faster than truth.
Most were nonsense.
But one rumor made Thomas stop.
A traveler claimed he had seen a dragon.
A real dragon.
The first dragon in three centuries.
Thomas felt ice crawl through his veins.
Because dragons were supposed to be extinct.
He should know.
He had ordered the last dragon slain.
That evening he sat beside a campfire outside a crowded inn.
The memories continued returning.
Every hour revealed another piece of the past.
Sometimes he welcomed them.
Sometimes he wished they would stop.
One memory returned more often than the others.
The final night of the war.
A chamber beneath the Black Tower.
A prison made of silver and obsidian.
A chained figure kneeling in darkness.
The Dark Lord.
Thomas remembered entering the chamber alone.
He remembered drawing his sword.
Remembered the fear.
The desperation.
Then the memory ended.
Every time.
Something prevented him from seeing what happened next.
As if even his own mind feared the truth.
Near midnight a scream shattered the silence.
Everyone around the campfire jumped to their feet.
Another scream followed.
Then another.
Coming from the forest.
Panic spread instantly.
People grabbed weapons.
Torches.
Children.
Anything.
The darkness beyond the trees suddenly moved.
Something emerged.
A creature.
Tall.
Thin.
Its body twisted unnaturally.
Its limbs too long.
Its eyes glowing white.
The thing stepped into the firelight.
Dozens of people gasped.
Some dropped to their knees.
Others fled immediately.
Because everyone recognized the creature from ancient stories.
A Shade.
One of the Dark Lord's servants.
Impossible.
Every Shade had supposedly died three centuries ago.
Yet here one stood.
Very much alive.
The monster smiled.
Then rushed forward.
Chaos erupted.
Men screamed.
Horses panicked.
People scattered in every direction.
The Shade moved faster than any human.
A merchant fell first.
The creature touched his face.
The man's body instantly turned gray.
Then collapsed into dust.
Thomas stared in horror.
He remembered this.
The Shades did not kill.
They consumed life itself.
Exactly as they had during the war.
The monster lunged toward a young girl.
Her mother screamed.
Nobody could reach her in time.
Nobody except Thomas.
Without thinking, he moved.
His body reacted before his mind could.
His hand found the hunting knife.
The world seemed to slow.
Ancient instincts returned.
Forgotten skills awakened.
The Shade attacked.
Thomas stepped aside.
Spun.
And drove the knife into the creature's throat.
A burst of black fire erupted from the wound.
The monster shrieked.
The sound shook the trees.
Then it exploded into ash.
Silence followed.
Complete silence.
Everyone stared.
Not at the dead monster.
At Thomas.
Because no ordinary farmer could have done that.
No ordinary man could move that fast.
Could react that quickly.
Could kill a Shade.
Thomas looked down at his hands.
And for the first time, he felt it.
Power.
Something old.
Something sleeping deep inside him.
Something that had survived three hundred years.
Something beginning to wake.
Later that night, after the camp settled down, a stranger approached his fire.
A woman.
Young.
Perhaps twenty-five.
Dressed in a traveler's cloak.
A sword hung at her side.
Her silver eyes reflected the flames.
And the moment Thomas saw them, another memory surfaced.
A battlefield.
A royal banner.
A knight standing beside him.
The same eyes.
Impossible.
The woman sat opposite him.
For several moments neither spoke.
Then she smiled.
A sad smile.
As though she had waited a very long time for this moment.
"You finally remember."
Thomas froze.
The woman leaned closer.
And whispered the words that changed everything.
"Welcome back, Your Majesty."
The fire crackled softly between them.
Then she spoke a name that had not been spoken for three centuries.
A name buried by history.
A name that turned Thomas's blood cold.
"The Dark Lord is looking for you."
She paused.
Her silver eyes never leaving his.
May you like
"And he knows you're alive."
To be continued in Chapter 3: The Last Knight
