Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of Dragonball Z or related series.
. . .
Princess Lemlia watched dejectedly as the raucous King Moai took another swig of his liquor flask, egging on the two latest gladiators to a fight to the death. Personally, Lemlia did not like seeing such barbaric acts, for she found them to be quite appallingly cruel.
The female insectoid turned away as the brutal bout continued, hearing through the constant clanging of swords, a few cries of pain as metal seared flesh, while the King kept relentlessly goading them on.
At times, Lemlia would glance down at a gold ornament, consisting of multiple bands worn around her right forearm. A bride's commodity. An image of someone...special. Atla. A sharp despair suddenly invaded the princess's mind and she fought hard not to cry. She had to maintain control; she couldn't let Moai see her vulnerability.
He would know right away what it was about. Then he would start harassing her to no end. It didn't matter where they were or who witnessed his angry tirade. He was a tyrant and he could do whatever he pleased.
"Lemlia!" he called out. "Quit being such a bore and come join in the fun!"
The princess winced. "It's alright, sire. I'm fine here."
"Come here and have a drink!" he snarled, walking briskly up the steps to the throne where she sat, and roughly grabbing her by the arm.
"St-stop, you're hurting me!" Lemlia protested, though she might as well have been talking to a brick wall. As Moai dragged her down the steps, he shouted to a servant, "Bring some more Arora liquor, NOW!"
While the the docile servant hurried off, Moai glanced lustfully at the frightened princess. He knew he had her under his complete control. Throwing the liquor flask aside, he then ripped off the traditional cowl covering her face and kissed her viciously.
Instantly, Lemlia was revolted. But she knew he was alot stronger and if she tried to resist, he would only grow enraged and slap her to the ground. Or threaten to kill more of her people...like last time.
A few hours later, Lemlia lay sprawled face down on the bed, in a massive bedroom adorned with elegant furniture and vintage paintings. She was sobbing, finally releasing her pent-up emotions after sauntering away from the arena. That dangerous dictator they called a "king" had abused and threatened her.
Well, she should have expected it. Only a few suns ago, the Moai's forces had invaded and laid waste to her own kingdom, Voltaire, as well as her husband's, the Nopera Kingdom. It was there that both had declared each other's love through marital ceremony.
They had met as teenagers, when both their monarchies had attended a large festival that was being hosted by a well respected aristocrat at the time.
For her, Atla was the kind of person who almost always operated on the same wavelength as her. Sure, he wasn't as dashing and charismatic as say, Prince Sindhar from the nearby Tyrus Kindom. Even so, Lemlia found that they had alot in common.
Like her, Atla often enjoyed water blaning, riding the six-hooved Mamilon catepillars, swimming, lapelling (a game similar to tennis), and reading (especially adventure and fantasy tales, and even romance). In the Noperan culture, men like Atla were just as open about being romantics as their women were.
He was also one of kindest people she'd ever met. His own family often chided him for being too nice to everyone, friend and foe alike; they always warned Atla that too much of a good heart would end up getting him in alot of trouble.
But Lemlia not only adored her husband for these endearing qualities, he could also have a snarky sense of humor. He always managed to cheer her up when things were going wrong for her. He could be very playful for a Prince, almost as if he never left his childhood.
And they had grown to more than just lovers; they were best friends. Atla had let it be known to everyone on the day of their wedding. It had been a grand, beautiful ceremony that took place at her own palace. Lemlia remembered marveling at the breathtaking decor of the walls and the magnificent rotunda overhead.
There was lavender and shimmering white sash criss-crossing over the balconies and along the halls, flowers bouquets of every variety, as well as the impressive attire that all the guests had been wearing. It was certainly a time to be happy.
But suddenly, a commander from her father's army had rushed into the room, yelling that King Moai's forces were attacking the palace. Lemlia and Atla were horrified; it was a sudden ambush. How was Moai able to overpower their defending forces? How had their two kingdoms been so blind in underestimating his cunning nature?
Apparently, they had been fools. Both tricked into believing that the warring King Moai had finally wanted peace.
The same king who had starved his own people to death. The same one that had usurped the throne from his uncle through assassination; it's also known he killed his own mother as well.
The same one who severely neglected his people during the Great Drought that had devastated many kingdoms on Arlia. The same one who did nothing as his country slowly turned into a barren wasteland. The same one who had attacked neighboring kingdoms and stole their lands' resources.
Claiming he was a changed man, repentant in his savage ways of the past.
And they all had bought it.
Atla should have listened to his advisors. Lemlia should have listened. Their hearts were just too powerful. It wasn't natural for Lemlia and Atla to see the evil in somebody; it just didn't feel right to them harboring feelings of suspicion and hatred, like half the Arlian population had a tendency to do.
After all, the history of both their kingdoms was built solidly on trust, peace and an unadulterated faith. But now, these sacred values had become a liability. Lemlia truly thought that King Moai had changed.
No. All he had wanted was power. Greed. Carnal desires. Her...
Lemlia let out another choked sob. This wasn't how it was suppose to be!
Not everyone in both kingdoms had been tricked. Atla's father, King Hariene, was very suspicious of Moai's motives all the time. Even when Atla and Lemlia were eager to welcome a long-lasting truce with one of their most hostile enemies, Hariene never compromised on his views.
At the time, Atla thought his father was being too overly cautious and cynical. Even Lemlia's parents had gladly accepted Moai's offer of extending an olive branch to them in a gesture of friendship.
But King Hariene wasn't fooled that easily; he had warned Atla plenty of times not to take someone like Moai lightly. Atla argued back about welcoming other enemy kingdoms as allies, but the King had only given him the most gravest stare ever. It was different...very different.
"He's not an Arlian, my son," King Hariene had warned. "He's an evil entity pretending to be one."
Some of Lemlia's family, as well as Atla's, had perished during the bloody attack on their wedding. Including King Hariene. Amidst the chaotic scene of panicking guests and clashing soldiers, Lemlia could still remember seeing him stand up against a group of Moai's thugs, fighting to the very end. He had been a brave king.
The rest of her brethen (including her parents and two sisters) were being held captive by Moai's overwhelming forces in their own palace. They were being used as leverage, should any of their allies dare to come help them. Lemlia prayed that some of them had escaped.
"Oh Atla," she lamented, as tears fell on the pillow. "I wish you were here! I'm so scared...not only for us, but for everyone throughout Arlia! King Moai is a twisted, corrupt soul! We both saw that! He must be stopped! But I - I don't know how someone as powerful as him can be stopped..."
. . .
Prince Atla grew worried as he examined the severely injured arm of his comrade. The poor guy was a servant, though that didn't matter to the prince at the moment.
"Hang on, Okrane," Atla comforted. The servant groaned, having been injured a few days before in the battle with King Moai's soldiers. If he didn't get medical help soon, his arm would become infected with gangrene. Calling the guards was useless, as they simply ignored the prisoners. Unless it was feeding time or for an execution.
Just then, a stout-looking guard and his larger, menacing partner appeared with their daily food of rotting grout. "Here, you filthy pieces of shit! Not that you deserve any of it. Vomit would be a better choice for you to shove in your mouths!"
"Wait," Yoni, a female prisoner, said. "We have an injured man here, and he is growing sicker. He needs help!"
The guards just snorted, and walked away.
"Guards, please!" Atla appealed. "The injury to his arm has grown into infection. All we ask is that you lend us some Aperion spices to neutralize the bacteria. Otherwise, his arm will have to come off!"
The stout guard paused, turning around and began unlocking the dungeon door. But as he entered the cell, he quickly pulled out his sword and slashed it across Okrane's throat. Instantly, blood spurted from the wound. Some of it sprayed across Atla's face, while the servant began coughing out blood and gasping for air.
"Okrane!" Atla cried.
The other prisoners were just as horrified; the cut was so deep that the servant would bleed to death in matter of minutes. The guard then stepped out of their cell, brusquely slamming the bar door shut.
Yoni rushed over to the bars. "You bastards! How can you do this?!"
"Well, atleast his arm won't have to come off now, hmm?" Both guards erupted in harsh laughter, and continued walking down the hall. The prisoners could only watch helplessly as their comrade lie dying in Prince Atla's arms.
. . .
Lemlia stood still as the last touches were being made to her jewelry and make-up by several female slaves. She saw with silent surprise at how one of them had a black eye, as well as a broken mandible. Another one looked thin and sickly, almost as if she hadn't been fed in a week.
Despite noticing something wrong about them, Lemlia didn't ask how they got that way. She had her suspicions.
"Clean up and reorganize the toiletries for the princess," one of the girls ordered another, though her voice sounded low and resigned issuing the command. From what Lemlia could tell of the slave's accent, she seemed to be from Atla's lands.
Another girl nodded, as the head slave and two others left the room to attend to other errands. The sole slave started putting away the dresses and other attire brought out for Lemlia to try on, not so much as glancing in the princess's direction. Not wanting to experience another surge in despair, Lemlia felt the need to talk.
"How long have you been serving the king?" Lemlia asked.
The slave girl paused for a second, before she replied, "I can't really remember. I think...almost two years."
Before she could stop herself, Lemlia blurted out, "Did he attack your people too?"
Now the girl stared at her, taken aback by the question. "Why do you ask?"
Lemlia looked down. "He did it to me. He attacked my kingdom, and killed my people. This all happened while I was preparing to marry the prince of Nopera."
"The prince?" the girl asked, now recalling the familiar kingdoms that she knew. "Prince...Atla?"
"Yes," Lemlia replied, her naturally sweet smile flashing for a moment. "A few days later, on the day of the wedding ceremony, he attacked my kingdom." She let out a shudder, not wanting to dredge up the shocking, painful memories of that horrible day.
"Moai killed anyone who tried to fight back. He had my family imprisoned. Some of them were..." Lemlia closed her eyes, as a wave of grief overtook her mind. "Some of them were killed...cut down like they were worthless pieces of meat! My cousins, my aunt Natosh..."
The princess felt that familiar rush of tears pricking beneath her eyes, and she couldn't stop one from seeping through her left eye. "He also did it to Atla's family as well. But I heard reports that some of them escaped...I just hope they are all okay..."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
Lemlia sighed. "Tell me, what is your name?"
"Aisal. I'm from the Republic of Gamar."
"Aaahh," Lemlia mused. "Your people don't have a monarchy. It's a democratic government, right?"
Aisal nodded. "Yes, though I didn't keep up much with politics in the Senate. I lived in a farm village outside the main city, Fonn. You might know our ambassador to your kingdom."
"Yes, I believe I met him a few times. A very kind, noble man named Kelek."
There was momentary pause, before Aisal spoke again, this time full of bitterness. "Moai did attack my people, several years ago. He started first with the outside farms and villages. Then his army moved in and took over the cities at last. Not even the Gamar army could take them on...they were too powerful, especially since they possessed chi power."
Lemlia then rose from the chair, approaching the girl. "Aisal, has anyone ever escaped from here?"
"Escape?"
Lemlia nodded. If there was one thing that she often heard about Moai, it was that he never negotiated for a slave's freedom or a prisoner's release. The only other alternative was to flee this fortress...or death.
Aisal shook her head, looking down sadly. "No, princess. Most who've tried to escape were either killed or punished severely."
"But surely there has to be a way," Lemlia ventured.
"If there was, it would be a miracle. I tried to once...with my brother. Two other servants came along with us. We knocked out some guards and then stole their uniforms. The servants who escaped with us wore the uniforms. They pretended they were escorting my brother and I to the Arena.
We managed to get outside the North Wing. All we had to do was get past the King's security guarding the walls that lead to outside of the fortress!"
A sudden longing, tinged with grief, passed over Aisal's eyes. "There it was, right in front of us! Our freedom out there beyond these god forsaken walls. We were almost there...almost there... "
Her voice trailed off into a pained whisper. "But then Moai's soldiers stopped us. They weren't fooled by our disguises. It's like they knew we were going to escape!"
Lemlia really didn't want to know what happened next, but Aisal continued.
"Our two friends were immediately executed, right there on the spot. It happened so fast...and my brother..." Aisal paused, swallowing hard as her face begin to flush, "Moai tortured him. He then took him to the Arena to fight, and then he...he..." Tears were now slipping down her eyes, while Lemlia felt a growing uneasiness in the pit of her stomach, "Moai threw him down below to the Pit Monster!"
"Oh my god... " Lemlia began.
"He made me watch the whole thing! But the worst wasn't over. He then gave me over to the dungeon guards and they - they-"
The servant couldn't finish the sentence, as she then burst into tears. Lemlia didn't have to hear the rest, as she perfectly knew well what had happened. Raw shock and anger filled her very core at hearing what Moai had done to this poor girl. How many innocent people had that horrible monster put to death?
How many had been captured, imprisoned or made to serve against their will? How many had been brutally tortured? How many had been humiliated and raped? How many had died horrific deaths at the hands of the Pit Monster? Lemlia suddenly felt sick to her stomach.
"Many times I've thought of killing myself," Aisal said. "I almost tried a few times. But if I were to do that, Moai would kill off the rest of the people in my village! He told me so! And I don't think I can go through with it, knowing people died on account of me committing suicide."
At this point, Lemlia couldn't take it anymore. "That...vile bastard! How can our dieties let someone so evil like that live?! They would never allow such a thing!" Her loathing grimace then softened to a more sympathetic one. "I'm sorry, Aisal! I'm so sorry about what happened to you. I wish there was some way we could stop him!"
"There's no way! He's too clever, too powerful!" Aisal suddenly slammed her fists down on the vanity table, causing some perfume bottles to tumble over. "Oh god, I don't want to live anymore! This place is HELL! I don't want to live! I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to!"
The servant's voice was growing more desperate and louder by the second, and Lemlia was afraid one of the guards would hear the commotion. Now she felt like an idiot for having opened up to the hysterical slave. She wished that she had kept her mouth shut, and just let the girl go about her daily, miserable duties.
Not knowing what else to do, the Princess firmly placed a hand on the girl's shoulder in an effort to comfort her, who was sobbing uncontrollably now. "I'm sorry, Aisal, I didn't mean to upset you! Please don't cry!"
It took every ounce of effort for Aisal to calm down as she furiously wiped the tears from her deeply strained face. Lemlia rushed over to grab a cloth off the towel rack in the wash room and gave it to the girl.
"Forgive me, my lady," Aisal said, as she vigorously cleaned her face. "I got out of hand, I let my emotions control me..."
Lemlia shook her head. "No, no, you have every right to be upset, Aisal. No, more than that! What that evil tyrant…..that evil…thing out there is doing...and what they did to you? It's unforgivable!"
Lemlia felt really bad over the girl's predicament, and she herself was on the verge of crying. She couldn't believe how inexplicably powerful Maoi had become. It was to the point where no Arlian kingdom stood a chance against him.
Even if they all banded together to put an end to his malicious reign, he had proven to be one of the most cunning and resourceful people on the planet. No doubt he would counter every one of their succeeding efforts with his own.
One of them was a mysterious power - some would call it a type of 'magical weapon,' even by conventional warfare standards - called chi power. No other kingdom possessed such a deadly and formidable skill; nor did they have any kind of knowledge of it, except that it had been a recent discovery.
How King Moai managed to obtain such a devastating power and utilize it among his elite warriors was something the other kingdoms were trying to figure out. Lemlia suspected that the recent visits of alien diplomats from other planets had something to do with it.
She knew that some of those races practiced chi power, particularly in their martial arts and self-defense programs. Right now, it was the one thing that gave Moai the upper hand over his enemies. He certainly wasn't sharing it with anyone else.
"Please...have hope, Aisal," Lemlia said, though she wasn't sure she believed her own words. "One day, Moai is going to pay for his crimes! Him and his followers! They've done nothing but terrorize everyone on Arlia!"
"You don't even know about the other women."
"What?"
"His other wives. Have you ever wondered what happened to them? Why they kept disappearing? His mistresses too. Forced to do anything he wanted, until he grew bored with them and...and..." now the slave looked up, dark eyes so full of terror that it took Lemlia's breath away.
"Nevermind, my lady, I've said too much. Forget about it."
But this only alarmed the Princess even more. Her heart started pounding faster, but nonetheless, she gently touched the other woman's quivering shoulder. "Please, Aisal...I need to know." Pausing for a moment, she added, "if it has anything to do with me, then I need to-"
"NO!" Aisal bolted upright, backing away from Lemlia. "I can't! It's too horrible!"
At that moment, the double doors swung open and in walked none other than the nightmare himself. Lemlia's heart nearly skipped a beat, while Aisal let out an involuntary gasp. Moai was dressed similarly for when he was throwing lavish feasts, consisting of a long crimson cape with an extended sash draped over his upper appendage.
He wore some kind of cologne that Lemlia found quite alluring, though she wasn't the least bit attracted to his foul visage. Immediately, Aisal straightened up and bowed before the king.
"My lord," she said in a shaky voice.
Moai barely acknowledged her, his leery gaze already focused on Lemlia. "Get out."
Aisal swiftly walked past him when he suddenly caught her by the arm. Lemlia tensed up when she saw how he gave the girl a scornful and intimidating glare.
"Or better yet, go down to the dungeon and help those other slave crappers clean out the carnage in the cells," he ordered.
Aisal felt the insides of her stomach turn at hearing that; it took every effort to keep herself from vomiting right there. Moai often had his guards execute prisoners in their holding cells, if it wasn't done in the Arena or on the target practice fields.
The slaves would then be forced to dispose of the bodies. They also cleaned up whatever blood or gore was left behind, depending on how gruesome the killing was. For a moment, Aisal wanted to protest - scream, cry, beg, whatever it took to avoid it - but she knew better than to go against Moai's word.
"Yes, my lord."
Her words were hollow and empty, and even Lemlia took notice of it. The slave then hung her head down, and exited the room.
Lemlia not only grieved for the girl, but she suddenly thought of the rest of her relatives and her people. An image of her immediate family flashed in her mind.
Mother, father...Cora, Seltar...
Dieties forbid what would happen to her parents and younger sisters. One wrong move from her...one displeasure she caused Moai...what would he do with them then?
And what about the rest of her people that were captured? In all of the extreme stress she had gone through, she nearly forgot about them.
"My people…the ones you are took as prisoners. What will happen to them?" Lemlia blurted out.
Moai gave her an unsettling smile. "If you behave well, I won't have to torture them in a very painful, very methodical way. Or execute them in public...preferably hacked to death by my Elite Warriors over a period of several days."
He leaned in closer, glowering over her. "Do you have any idea how many days a victim screams and writhes all over as more of his limbs are taken off? As he is slowly being gutted from the inside out, his liver, tongue and genitals thrown all over the Arena for the Ilik vultures to devour?"
Lemlia shook her head, unable to stop a tear from streaming down her cheek. "No, no, please don't hurt them! I beg you, my lord!"
Moai reached out and grabbed her by the chin. "Do as I say, my dear."
He drawled out the last two words in a tone of mocking possessiveness. Lemlia couldn't stand looking at him any longer, and averted her eyes to the ground. Moai slowly moved his hand down her neck, shoulder and arm, and she flinched at his unwelcomed touches. When his hand came to rest on the gold brace around her forearm, she pulled away.
"Ah-ah-ah!" he warned, brusquely grabbing her arm and feeling the cool metal of each golden bangle. "Such a beautiful ornament. I know what this represents. The lustrous sheen of it is so striking on such a trophy prize as you. Soon, I'll possess the other one from him."
Atla. Beloved Atla…
As Moai's other hand came to rest above her bosoms, Lemlia resisted another urge to get as far away from him as possible.
"I should take you right here, right now. But I need a little entertainment first. A few killings here, and few killings there to make it just right. Otherwise, it wouldn't be so stimulating...so much...fun."
His murky green eyes, reflecting off a deep sickness, bored directly into hers. It was then that Lemlia realized that she was looking into the eyes of a genuine psychopath. "You think I betrayed you and your kingdom."
Lemlia couldn't stop the next scathing reply that came out. "Yes, you did. All of us."
"I was merely biding my time. Enough to test your weaknesses. Your vulnerabilities." He smiled. "And it worked. I simply conquered another enemy."
Please Dieties, tell me this is all a dream, all a dream...!
A sharp, sudden pain jolted her as Moai squeezed her left breast hard, his nails digging deep in. "Enjoy this day, Lemlia. Tonight won't be so lucky for you."
Lemlia let out small gasp. Her soul was going to be destroyed by her worst enemy of all Arlia, and there was nothing she could do about it.
. . .