In a vast field, Count Fenwick sits atop a horse overlooking a field of dead bodies. Soldiers go across the field, making sure no one survived the battle, as he observes. A figure in a black cloak appears next to his side, staring down at the field and nodding as a body moves. A young man stripped of his armor shoots out from under a corpse. He laughs, running as fast as he can out running the armored soldiers as they chase him. Running over the corpses of his allies, he only thinks of escaping only for a bolt of lightning to shoot down from above. It fries him to a crisp, leaving nothing but ashes as Count Fenwick finishes his spell.

            “Alright, keep up the search. There might be more rebels trying to flee!” He orders the soldiers.

They salute him and return to his search as the count turns his horse away from the battlefield.

            “That was the last living rebel there. Why waste the soldier’s time?” The shadow asks.

            “It’s because they need to learn the consequences of mercy.” He says, shaking his head. “If we let one rebel live, they’ll go out and spread their message. These culls are the only thing preventing the continent from falling into complete chaos.”

            “This is the last week, I believe. The War Games should begin soon, so hopefully, a new king will be crowned soon.”

He shakes his head. “I hope not. The King Candidates were selected from the best families and possess the greatest skills and wealth we could find from the noble families. If the War Game were to end so fast, then it would be a waste of gathering such talented youths.”

            “What of your son? I believe your son is taking part.”

He pauses. “Yes. That one.” He says under his breath. “That child only got in by throwing our family name and wealth around.”

            “That’s rather harsh to your son.”

            “I have to be. The boy was spoiled by his mother until she died. It’s a shame he’s technically my heir. I’d rather he shape up and show his loyalty to whoever becomes the new king. Our bloodline was not meant to rule the land. We were meant to serve man’s liberator.”

            “Your house words?”

            “Yes ‘For King and Country’ those are the words of House Fenwick. We are to serve the king and the country. But how can we serve if one of us sits upon the throne?” He shakes his head as he stares off into the distance.

A large bird flies in from the distance and lands on the Count’s shoulder. He stares at the colorful bird as it sits perched on his shoulder before opening its mouth.

            “Count Fenwick. The Council of Lords is gathering to discuss the growing rebellions. Please return to the capital at once before the end of the day for the meeting.”

He nods. “Fine then. I guess it’s time for another shouting match. These lords sure love to shout at each other, arguing about power.”

            “If they descent too much, the continent could shatter apart.”

            “That is true. But I have several of them in my pocket already. I’ll do my hardest work to keep this country together, even if I have to sacrifice my house and my fortune.”

The shadow bows before fading away. “I will return to my work in the shadows.”

The Count laughs as his horse takes off. “To think the only person left who would take my side willingly is a Shadow. I must be doing something wrong in life.”

            “But it is no matter. I will do what I must for King and Country!” He yells out as his voice is carried by the wind.