Birthed In Flames – The Reign of King Ryan, of House Haywood
Chapter One: Sleepwalking
In the deadest part of the night, when there was absolutely no moon and even the stars that usually shone in the sky seemed pale and far away, Gavin woke up.
His head was pounding. Some sort of intense focus, in that strange place between want and need, had snapped him out of his dreams. He slid off his bed and yanked on his green and brown boots. All of his actions were curiously slow and fluid.
Dreaming. I think this is just dreaming. Even his own thoughts were sluggish and disconnected from what he was doing.
He pulled on his clothes idly and reached out to tie on his belt. Outside he could hear the crackle of monsters rustling in the bushes but oddly, he felt no fear. Sleepily, he sort of noticed that Edgar was unusually quiet. King Ryan had managed to silence the protesting animal for once and the strange, muffled shrieks of the cow were not audible tonight.
Gavin the Free noted all this without paying it any real attention.
Dressed for a journey into the woods, Gavin ambled through the corridors of his house. It was decorated with exotic works of art of which he treasured, broken only by the hidden doorways that led to inner chambers of the dwelling and small chests filled with materials. Gavin frequently started projects, collecting all the necessary goods before abandoning his mission and ending up with piles of junk.
The night air was deliciously cool against his skin when he passed through his door.
Where am I going?
He stumbled forward, led onwards by the dreamlike impulse.
It's damn crazy this dream.
Grass caressed his feet and dew drenched the end of his pants.
Where the eff am I going?
The trees towered over him, silent sentinels to his odd, loping walk through the forest. Far over to his right, Gavin heard other beings making their way through the grass as he did but dismissed it as not important. Rich smells of the night – the strong heady smell of violets and rotting leaves – did not trouble him. His lack of sight didn't bother him. His feet seemed to know exactly where to place themselves to avoid crevasses, to skirt waters and to circumnavigate the paths of spiders, zombies and other creatures.
As long as that thing walking with me is not Ryan… Gavin mused to himself. The King was always displeased when he caught his subjects sneaking around without his knowledge. This was a rare occurrence; the Mad King's retinue of spies and sneaks kept him well-informed. As a usurper, he was constantly concerned that those who did not agree with his policies would seek to overthrow his reign.
But why would I want to take the crown? Gavin's tired brain spluttered out. That's what the Tournament was for. We all had our chance. Ryan won fair and square.
Geoff, the previous King, had abdicated until his daughter reached the age where she could reclaim her rights and her throne to the kingdom. Most of the kingdom bemoaned the fact that they had ever spoken a word against House Ramsey now that Ryan was their King. Intelligent and forward-thinking he may be but Ryan at his heart was as cold as the steel he wielded. They were both in awe and in constant fear of him. Those who opposed Ryan ended up dead – if they were lucky. The Mad King had earned his title early in his reign. The Animal Whisperer had climbed to new heights of infamy after winning that kingship in the Royal Tournament.
Almost as though his thoughts had conjured them, the Iron Gates of the Arena where they had battled for the crown came into view. Gavin realised his dream had decided that this was his destination and he made his way towards it. To his back the ocean churned, the waves black and mysterious in the exceptionally dark night.
Geoff's adopted son crossed the Gates and instantly, a crackle of electricity ran up the back of his spine, tingling on his neck. It woke him up with a start. He ran a hand over his face and realised he had 'sleepwalked' back to the Arena. His boots were covered in leaves. Dew had soaked his pants and chilled his legs. His sword hung from his belt. His hood lay low over his face. A torch burned low on the wall of the Arena.
"Hey, hello?" Gavin called out cautiously. Strange things stalked these woods at night.
"Welcome back," a warm voice replied from the shadows.
It was Geoff, the first king, dressed in his battle armour. He walked out from the wall to grasp his adopted son's hand firmly.
"What's going on?" Gavin asked him, utterly bewildered. "I just wandered out here…"
"So did we, boi," called out another strong voice. Gavin turned around to find his best friend Michael leaning up against the stony walls, his grin shining in the torchlight. Mogar seemed utterly relaxed but Gavin's hysteria notched up another level.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Geoff grabbed Gavin by the shoulder, a reassuring gesture.
"You don't know? Well, don't you remember? No? We're back, we're all coming back to compete for the throne again."
Then Geoff explained his wise decision to have the Tournament every season to make them compete to own the throne for any length of time. His enchantment had steered them back again to redo the competitions as they had in the summer.
"The Mad King is really just going to give up his crown?" Gavin scoffed.
At that unfortunate moment Ryan, shuddering and waking dazedly, entered the Arena behind them. All three of the warriors turned to find their friend, the man who had taken the whole of Achievement City as his own through conquest, staring at them with repulsed eyes.
"If you survive my games, the crown will be yours," Ryan the Mad King promised, in a voice that hinted of a repressed fury so disgusted at his own words that he could barely form them on his lips. Michael squared his shoulders and merely nodded at the pronouncement. Gavin gaped, slack-jawed, at the challenge. Geoff kept his expression smooth and unreadable.
Jack stumbled in the Iron Gates not long after Ryan had taken his position atop the golden throne and Ray, walking ridiculously slowly, arrived moments before sunrise. The new day turned the Arena into a place of shining gold, vivid maroon carpet and sweet-scented grass. Brilliant light fell upon the obsidian blocks where the competitor's golden blocks would mark their progress to create a full Tower and win the throne.
Ryan eyed his subjects from his high vantage point. His eyes were so devoid of the warmth of the day that even Geoff had to shiver a little at the sight of them.
"Let us begin," the King declared.