Chapter 31 The Descent into Maddness
It was the dead of night on Doom. Zarkon lay in his bed tossing and turning fitfully. Nothing had been going right lately. Mogor's body had been found on one of planet Arus's deserts. His body was badly damaged. His face had been pecked at by vultures. His body had also been ravaged by numerous scavengers. The king remembered the grotuesque site as he identified the body as that of commander Mogor. He knew the commander had met with a savage death. He also knew that the small party that had gone with him had not returned. The king only surmising they had been taken prisoner or killed. Haggar was still working out the control issues with the monsterous dragon that she claimed was under her power. And the territories within the empire grew restless. Though the alliances still held together, that was only through fear and intimidation. No other kingdom wanted to be laid to waste by the dragon's awesome power.
The king was also haunted by the wounds he suffered in his last encounter with his nephew and brother. Every time he looked in the mirror, the black patch that covered his eye was a reminder of the injury as was the ugly scar that now decorated his face. He also had to contend with the constant infection that set up in the wound to his shoulder. The king, out of anger and habit continually picked at the wound forcing it to bleed and making it vunerable to infection. He was constantly having the wound treated with antibiotic remedies. The doctors did not dare reprimand him on his behavior out of fear for their lives. They would cautiously treat the wound knowing the foul state of mind he was in.
He continued tossing and turning trying to find the will the sleep. But the recent events kept playing over and over in his head. He could still see Lotor's face glaring back at him before he and his comrades escaped planet Doom. He despised the very site of the young prince's visage that was burned into his mind. He could see the eyes of his own father staring back at him. He could see it in the eyes of his nephew. Those eyes haunted him even in his dreams.
"Your lies are catching up with you." Whispered disembodied voices.
"You should have killed him when you had the chance." The barrage continued.
"You.... will... die."
"SHUT UP!" The old king roared in both a fit of terror and rage.
He lumbered violently from his bed grabbing his robe. He stomped into his bathroom and threw the robe on the floor. He quickly stripped from his night clothes and stepped into the lavish shower. Sprays of luke warm water hit him from all sides. He stood there in an attempt to calm himself and rinse the cold sweat that covered his body. He rinsed for only a few moments before turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. He grabbed the immense and fluffy towel and quickly dried off his body. Afterwards he put on his robe and went to his personal bar. He took a bottle of tyrusian wine and poured a full glass of the stuff. He raised the glass to his lips in a huff almost spilling it on his expensive robe.
He began to quickly swallow the drink, so quick that he momentarily choked on it. He slammed the glass down so hard that the remainder of the contents sloshed violently out onto bar's surface. The old king looked down angrily at his spilled drink. He looked at the tiny pools of red. Suddenly they began to move and slide toward each other and form a perfect circle. Zarkon's eye widened at what he saw as an image began to form in the now single red pool. At first the image was blurry and distorted as the liquid flowed of its own accord. Splotches of blue and white and gold began to swirl in the red mirror. Then the liquid stilled and the image came into focus.
"I'm coming for you... uncle." Said Lotor's voice in a sinister tone.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" Zarkon thundered and slashed his arm across the barn. The bottles of various intoxicants went flying through the air. Glass shattered against the wall and the floor spilling out their contents. The king stood looking down furiously at the mess he'd made. His whole body was shaking and his eyes wide. He was in such a state he did not hear the calls of his elite guard outside his room. After continued silence to their calls, the captain had the door bashed in. A small unit of the elite guards rushed into Zarkon's room to find him standing at his bar. His hands were tightly gripping the corners of the bar table. He turned to see the group of men staring in confusion at him.
"Sire...we heard,"
"Never mind what you heard! How dare you barge into my private quarters!" The king spat viciously.
"But majesty, we thought you were in danger." The captain said trying to reason with his king.
"GET OUT!" The wicked monarch roared as he began to hurl glasses and bottles at the guards. All made a hasty retreat before any permanent damage could be done. Zarkon was once again alone. He stood tense and shaking with his eyes wide and his fangs beared. He looked back at the bar surface expecting to see the face of his nephew continuing to torment him. But to his suprise, the singular pool was no more. The splashes of wine that had fallen were back in their original formation. It was as if the vision had never happened.
"I'll kill them. I'll kill them all." He hissed to himself.
The next few hours passed as the royal court assembled in the throne room. All were shocked to see that King Zarkon had yet to arrive. Coralle stood by his large golden throne. Sylvana stood at her side with an ornate sword strapped around her waist. Haggar stood on the other side of the throne. The masses all waited for the king to make his appearence. Several more moments went by before the massive doors to the throne room finally opened. All eyes went to the floor and all who stood went to their knees in respect to the king. He walked stiffly past the kneeling forms and ascended to his seat of authority. His right eye was covered with a black patch that was adhered to his skin. The scar from the wound was still quite evident making his menacing features even more gruesome. His right arm was also still heavily bandaged under his robes as he continued to open the would by moving his arm too rapidly and too much.
The council of the king's advisors also gathered within the throne room. All kneeled humbly before the king and waited for permission to rise. With a low growl Zarkon told those who prostrated themselves before him to get to their feet. He looked down at his advisors with stern and menacing eyes. They could all tell the king was displeased about something, though none of them knew what. He rested his clawed hands upon the arms of his golden throne.
"What news of the alliance? Speak." The old king demanded.
"All is going well sire. Your...disciplining of Corribus was absolute and effective. None of the other territories dare to turn against you." The head advisor answered respectfully.
"What of the armada? How much man and fire power do I possess?" The king inquired.
"It is taking time majesty, but I assure you that planet Arus will have no defense against it." The leader answered.
"Taking time? Exactly how much time is required to gather an army? Every territory within the empire should be at my disposal. Are you saying that there are still those who dare to stand against me?" Zarkon growled, his tone becoming dangerous.
"No, no majesty. All have sworn loyalty to you. But it takes time to mobilize ships and soldiers." Said the head advisor. His expression became one of concern and with good reason. He knew how deadly the king's temper could be.
"Perhaps I should do something to speed up the process. Perhaps I should let loose my new weapon upon some of the slower kingdoms and see if that can motivate them!" Zarkon barked.
"Sire, please that won't be necessary. You can be assured that all is going well. You need not destroy those who have sworn alligeance to you!" The leader yelled. As the words left his mouth he realized his tone had put him in danger.
"You....dare to raise your voice to me? You dare to speak over king Zarkon!" The tyrant roared.
"No your majesty! I meant no disrespect to you sire! Please forgive my insulence!" The advisor begged. But his fate was sealed. The rage in the old king's eyes was clear. He would not tolerate anyone speaking over him at this moment.
Of course to the masses surrounding him, the advisor had only tried to reason with the king. But at the moment, Zarkon would not be reasoned with. Things were not going according to his plans, and that displeased him. His rage needed a victim, and that victim had been chosen.
"Guards!" The king barked.
The soldiers immediately mobilized before the monarch. He looked down at the head advisor with murderous intent. "I am not in a forgiving mood this day." He hissed as he motioned for the guards to surround the advisors.
"Kill them!" He barked.
Without hesitation or remorse, the guards unsheathed their lazon swords. Like lambs who'd been led to slaughter, the advisors began to panick and tried to scatter. But the guards were much stronger and faster than the aged councelors and caught them easily. They were forced into a horizontal line. Their hands were bound behind them and they were forced to their knees. One by one, they were unceremoniously beheaded. One by one they all screamed for their lives and begged for mercy, but as Zarkon had stated, he was not in a forgiving mood. Within moments, where the advisors had stood, now there was only a line of headless corpses. Blood was splattered on the guards and upon the floor. The stench of bodily wastes filled the air, though not one living soul dared to protest.
Zarkon's expression became one of twisted satisfaction though his paranoia was no less relieved. Those around him did their best not to display their dismay at his actions. The condemned had been the king's advisors for decades, and now they lay dead on the floor. Haggar most certainly did not agree with the king's actions, but she did not question them either. Agreeing with the twisted ruler was the only way to ensure survival.
Sylvana stood with a vicious smile upon her face. She reveled in the suffering and fear of others, innocent or not. The display of sudden and grizzly death amused and entertained her. Her smile however quickly vanished once the king shot her a menancing glare.
"You find something funny woman?" He growled.
"Of course not your majesty. I was simply appreciating the fact that you can render such swift and severe punishment without a second thought. It is truly a trait to be admired great king." She answered.
"This was not done for your amusement wench. Remember that as quickly as I put you in a position of power, I can easily take it away...along with your life. Let the fate of my now late advisors be a reminder of that." Zarkon warned.
"Yes majesty. I will not soon forget it." Sylvana said with a respectful bow.
"See that you do not." The king said with a low growl. He looked about his throne room at his court. "And let that be a reminder to all of you. By my word you live and breathe. And by my word, you all can die just as easily."