"!! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" Stone walls trembled. „How can someone like him, dare to hurt someone like me? "
Henry Tarakan's roar shattered the silence of his chamber. Veins bulged along his neck as his hand clenched around the sword beside his bed, the metal shrieking as his grip tightened.
"NO—" His breath hitched, twisted, then broke into a laugh that was sharp and unhinged. "No… even worse."
He staggered to his feet, naked sheets tangled around his legs. His hands shook as he pressed them to his face.
"I'll torture him," Henry whispered, eyes wild. "Slowly. I'll kill his loved ones, piece by piece. I'll make him beg to crawl back."
He turned toward the window, staring out over Tarakan, over walls and slums and forests beyond.
"You can't hide from me," he hissed. "You're nothing. A rat. A broken thing. First I'm going to step on to the next experimental level and then…" His laughter echoed through the room, hollow and furious.
„…kill you!"
Henry then dressed up with the help of some maids and dragged himself into the throne room of Tarakans castle, there he sat. Lord Tarakan, his father. With glowing old eyes, full with disgust did he look at Henry.
„Father…" Henry began, his voice shaky and uncertain.
But the lord of Tarakan just waved his hand in the air, „Henry! „ he spat, „I rather hear a good explanation, or…" he coughed and stomped while looking straight in Henry's eyes, „I'm going to kill you, right here, right now!"
Henry looked towards the ground, his hands trembling. The marble beneath his feet felt suddenly slick, like it remembered blood from past beatings.
"I—" His voice cracked. He clenched his jaw hard enough that his teeth hurt and forced the words out again. "She...she insulted me…no, she insulted this whole fortress…!"
Silence fell like a slab of stone.
Lord Tarakan rose slowly from the throne. Not in anger—never that. Anger was for weak men. This was something colder. He descended the steps one by one, each step heavy enough to make the hall tremble.
"Insulted," he repeated softly.
Henry nodded, still staring at the floor. "Yes! She… A woman! With no power dared to insult—"
A fist slammed into his stomach.
Henry folded instantly, air exploding from his lungs as he crashed to his knees. He gagged, saliva stringing from his mouth, vision swimming.
Lord Tarakan crouched in front of him, fingers seizing Henry's chin and forcing his head up.
"You are stupid! What even can you do?," his father said calmly. "You just had to follow my words, my instructions. But now…" he shook his head, hit him again and continued, „you showed me your true disgusting self, again."
Henry's eyes watered, "I'll correct it," he rasped. "I swear it. I'll ride next week. No! Tomorrow! I'll ride towards Torrs'End and show them our greatness! I'll—"
"Our?" Lord Tarakan's lip curled. "Why do You presume that a you is a part of this? You, made the wrong decision in the first place."
He released Henry abruptly. Henry collapsed forward, hands scraping against the cold stone as he struggled to breathe.
"That was my chance," the lord continued, pacing now. "This castles return to real greatness. She was an chance I created. And you! You let it slip right from your hand. Your only chance to be helpful to me!"
Henry's hand twitched involuntarily.
He felt it again.
The absence.
His father stopped pacing.
"And now," Lord Tarakan said, turning back, "you sit there shaking like a beaten cur and tell me you will fix this? Your small thing, even got cut of by an what? Runaway slave?" He spat.
Henry forced himself upright. Slowly. Deliberately. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened his spine.
"Yes," he said. This time, his voice did not shake. "Because I know what to do now. That slave. This labor rat."
He looked up.
That earned a pause.
Lord Tarakan studied his son for a long moment, glowing eyes narrowing slightly. Not with sympathy—never that—but with interest.
"…Continue."
Henry drew in a breath, steadying himself. "He fled into the monster lands. Injured. Bleeding. Alone. No equipment. No allies." His lips curled. "He won't survive long. So he will try to get back in the reach of the nearest town. And to get revenge I need power, and I'm going to do anything for it. And this slave, with it I have the possibility to gain power in Lyrania."
A thin smile crept across Lord Tarakan's face. The hall was silent again.
Finally, Lord Tarakan turned away and ascended the steps back to his throne.
"Very well," he said. "You have until the next moon. Bring me proof—the engagement paper or a title in Lyrania , your choice."
He sat.
"And Henry?"
Henry stiffened.
"If you fail again," his father added casually, "I will personally finish what that slave started."
Henry bowed low, forehead touching stone.
"Yes, Father."
As he rose and turned to leave, his hands clenched into fists so tight his nails bit into his palms.
Somewhere far beyond the walls of Tarakan, in a forest that devoured the weak—
A rat was learning how to bite. And Henry Tarakan was going to make the world bleed for it.