Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in the game.
Author's note: I'm glad some people actually took an interest in this fic; I was worried I would be flamed to a crisp by this time… although things don't really get any better for our poor Albert.
Freefall Insanity: BERT. ( XD Sorry. Had to do it.) I'm glad to see you like it, and I don't think I've ever heard Noish described that way before...
M4r1-ch4n: Thanks! And I've read it both ways, so I guessed. -shrugs-
Marinawings: Thanks. I try to keep the readers coming back, even though my updates are few and far between...
Chapter Two: Three WeeksBeing the king of Serdia, Albert had seen many things in his lifetime. Some made him cry, such as when Lavitz, his best friend since they were just young ones, before his very eyes had died, impaled by a sword. The relief and joy of seeing him again in Mayfil was profound, nearly filling his eyes with tears again.
Once again, he was nearly moved to tears. This time, it was the sight of Indel's Castle in the distance, the sunlight reflecting brilliantly off of the white stones and seemingly lighting his pathway home.
Home. The word seemed to have a new meaning now; after all the time that had passed and all that had happened, he was returning home. He had experienced so much; fought in so many battles… and now, with the end of his journey less then an hour's walk away, he knew that he would now never take for granted all that he had.
He entered the town, and began to wonder if something was wrong. The people he passed by in the street were looking at him strangely- frightened, even- and some ran into their homes and shut the doors tightly. Children were pulled closer to their mothers and mothers were pulled behind their husbands. The people tensed as he passed. It only became worse as he entered the castle; many of the guards became pale and held their weapons tighter. Several even ran, heading straight for the throne room; he assumed it was to inform Noish of his return. As he climbed up the steps leading to the throne room, his Warrior's Sense became tense, a hard feeling in the pit of his stomach forming. With a slight hesitation, he pushed open the doors and entered the throne room.
Noish was standing in front of the throne, turned to the left and talking with one of the knights that had run. This was another clue to Albert that something was wrong: Noish usually stood to the right of the throne, not in front of it. Upon the king's entrance Noish quickly turned, his face stretched into a look of shock and near horror. He stood there for a moment, unable to say or do anything. Then the knight he was previously speaking to spoke.
"Your Majesty Noish! Look! The Ghost of King Albert has come to haunt us!"
Albert was stunned. '"Your Majesty Noish"? "Ghost"? What-'
"This… this is no ghost…" announced the elder man, his voice shaking slightly. "This is…"
The heavy feeling in his stomach suddenly hit rock bottom.
"… an impostor!"
'WHAT?'
"Guards! Seize him!"
Two of the guards in the room suddenly rushed forward, taking him roughly by the arms and holding him in place. He resisted the instinct to struggle and looked up at Noish, his soft brown eyes wide and almost pleading.
"Noish! It's me; Albert! You must-"
"Silence!" ordered the newly appointed king sharply, glaring down at the young man below him. "How dare you come here looking like our late king during the kingdom's time of grieving! You will never gain the power of the throne by such deception! Guards; strip him of weapons and provisions, then put him in the dungeon!"
Realizing communication wouldn't work, Albert moved on to plan B. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and with his mind sharp for battle he began to struggle, his muscles tightening and becoming solid as he tried to wrench his way free from the guards' grip. One of the men came off, but then immediately came back, trying to pin Albert's arm behind his back. Several more guards came at a rush, and they began to try to pull him down to the floor. Eyes alight with battle, Albert's mind reached out for the Jade Dragoon Spirit nestled safely under his clothing near his chest.
He never saw the spear coming.
The second the wooden pole struck the back of his skull, his jaw dropped and his head tiled back, a strangled gasp escaping him. Then the light of battle faded from his eyes and he collapsed to the floor, the guards falling with him. As the world faded to black around him, he could faintly hear Noish roaring orders to the guards.
"Get him to the cells below immediately! He must be guarded at all times! Do not listen to a word he says!..."
Time Passes…When he came to, the fist thing he noticed was the throb of pain in the back of his head. The surface he lay on was hard and warmed only by his body heat. He had been lying on his left side for hours at the very least. His eyes slowly opened as a low groan escaped him. A stone floor stretched on underneath him, iron bars stretching up to the ceiling. To his left- or what seemed like above him, due to his point of view- he saw a pile of straw lying on the floor. He was in a cell, he realized with a mental start. He slowly sat up, a hand going to the back of his head as he sat himself on the floor and leaned against the wall. His left shoulder cried in protest against being moved after staying in the same uncomfortable position for such an extended amount of time.
The cell was no larger than five walking paces wide and long. Dim moonlight streamed in from a small barred window above his head, causing the stones of the floor to shine the light back into his eyes. He noted the glimmer of light reflecting off of the armor of a guard just outside his cell door. His javelin and backpack were gone. His Dragoon Spirit…
A hand immediately shot up to his chest, his mind becoming strung up on a stab of panic. He relaxed as he felt the familiar hard sphere press against his skin; they hadn't found his Dragoon Spirit when they took his weapons. He wouldn't be able to use it now; the guard would surely notice the glow and set up an alarm. He would try when the glow would be less noticeable, perhaps sometime in the day. He would need the time to recover from the sudden blow to his head as well. He would attempt to make sense out of this seeming nightmare then.
He settled back down onto his left side, his upper body resting in the straw. His left arm was positioned on the straw for use as a pillow, while his right moved the cape of his outfit to cover most of his body as a blanket. As his eyes closed his right hand came to his chest, resting over where the jade stone sat nestled safely in his clothing. He drew a sort of comfort from it; as long as he had that spirit, he knew he wouldn't be completely defenseless.
Time Passes…He awoke again to see sunlight shining down on the stone floor from the barred window. Another guard stood outside his cell door, his back to the prisoner.
Albert slowly sat back up, allowing his stiff muscles to stretch out. His head still throbbed, although not as much as it had the night before. He felt a little hungry, but other than that and his head he felt fine. He brought his knees to his chest and let his back rest against the wall. He needed to think and identify his situation.
One: He was imprisoned by his own knights and was being held in the dungeon of his own castle.
Two: Everyone believes that Albert the King of Serdia is dead and thus believes him to be an impostor.
Three: Upon learning of his "death", Noish had taken the throne and is now considered the king.
Four: Noish had ordered the knights not to listen to him.
There had to be a way to convince them that he was Albert! But with Noish's order to not to listen to him, it will be more difficult. What could he say? No doubt many things about him were widely known; Emperor Doel was his uncle, his mother had died at his birth, his father was murdered, his best friend, Lavitz Slambert, had been murdered, the Moon Gem was surgically implanted into him when he was six… He could show them the scar left from the procedure, but he doubted anyone would look at him long enough to see it.
He began to rub the bridge of his nose. It was frustrating; was there anything he could do?
He felt a pulse of power against his chest. Would the stone wall be able to withstand a Gaspless? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
He frowned. No. That wouldn't help him at all. He wanted to prove he truly was the rightful King of Serdia. Breaking out would only support the theories of him being an impostor. Besides, he didn't want to damage the castle.
The jingle of keys snapped him out of his thoughts and his eyes shot upwards to the door. A knight opened the door slightly, putting a jug of water inside before closing it again. The man didn't look like a Knight of Serdia, and Albert didn't remember seeing him around the castle. Nevertheless, he lowered one knee in preparation to get up, then paused as he noticed something.
His brow furrowed slightly. "Only water? No bread?"
The knight smirked. "His Majesty Noish's orders. You'll be given food when you drop whatever spell you've got that's making you look like King Albert." He didn't talk like a knight either.
Albert blinked. "And what if I don't?"
"Heh. You'll be losing a lot of weight then." He walked off without another word.
Albert remained on the floor, staring at the jug of water. The entire situation just got more complicated.
Five: He has, at the very most, three weeks to live.
To Be Continued…Author's note: Well, what do you guys think? Is the starving Albert a good idea or a bad idea?… For the story, I mean. Not for him.
Re-uploaded chapter one as well, so it would match this chapter as well. Otherwise nothing else changed.