The Empire

Another writing prompt:

"The king has ruled for 1000 years, secretly using black magic to take over the bodies of his heirs. This is only known to a select few in a dark, secretive Order. You are the next heir, and have discovered the truth. Now you're on the run, and the dying king has sent his agents after you."

"There are some arenas so corrupt that the only clean acts possible are nihilistic."

The small dark room smells like rotten food and piss. I take a drink from my flask and try to keep the door closed. I boarded the entrance with the remnants of a bed, but it will at most buy me minutes. I need more time! They would have killed me by now and taken the next one in line, but the old man really wants me.

It's an ego thing, he wants to prove that he beat me in every way possible. That no one can escape his will.

Well fuck him! We'll see about that.

The door erupts in a shower of splinters and the masked men rush in. My father's most secret butchers are highly skilled in what they do and will stop at nothing to carry out His will. Only they can execute the ritual through which my father will change body with me. I could not belive it at first had I not found so much evidence of it happening in one of their secret ledgers. The unwritten history of the greatest Empire ever build, one that encompasses all of humanity is a bloody and dark thing!

I stab the first to come through with my knife. I go for the throat and I feel the blood gush from the wound as the man sags down heavily on the floor. It will do not good. The others rush in and immobilize me before I can do anything more.

They pin me to the floor and start drawing what I can only presume are the runes necessary for the transfer. 4 of them enter carrying a palanquin. One of them pulls the drapes apart and I can see an old face staring at me. An old man's voice cracking voice comes from within.

"Ah my son! Finally we meet. You do realize it's nothing personal, right?" - his voice is light, we could be having a conversation about the weather, not about my imminent death.

I think of spitting at the figure, but I don't want to be gagged.

"Ah 'father' how nice to finally meet you! You are just like I imagined. Tell me do you feel at all guilty for all your crimes?

Can you sleep well at night?" - I try to instill my voice with mockery, but it comes across as bitterness and it probably is.

"You don't understand son and honestly how could you? You haven't lived enough. You haven't seen the atrocities of war because

there have been no wars for a thousand years! How can you presume to judge me? You live in an age of prosperity and peace! Nothing bad happens!" - this seems like a speech that he has rehearsed and well he probably has had all the time.

I need more time, gotta keep him talking.

"Nothing bad unsanctioned by you! What about your crimes father, do those not count?"

"They are necessary! You think I would not prefer people to be free from censure? To love me instead of fearing me? I tried

to rule like that at first. Oh I was naive just like you are now. You think those loving subjects will hesitate to slit your throat at the slightest sign of weakness?" - I can hear the iron in his voice, the righteousness, the conviction that what he does is right and that HE can do no wrong.

"So you slit their throats preemptively father? How very nice of you!" - I almost manage to laugh.

"I hold the peace at any cost! Mine is the golden path of peace. It goes into the future and it drags willingly or unwillingly

the whole of humanity! You know nothing of the horrors of religion because I've forbidden any type of worship! You have no idea of the barbarity of your kind if left unchecked! Mass killings, racial hatred, irrational hate all this and so much more! Don't lecture me about responsibility, I hold on my shoulders the entire human race! All men are equal under my rule!" - not he is a schoolteacher imparting a difficult lesson.

"Sir, the preparations are complete. - one of the masked men interrupts"

"Ah my son, don't worry you will serve a higher purpose, your sacrifice will not be in vain. You do not understand it, but your

death is the least of all evils." - the voice cracks at the end in a fit of coughing.

"You will also get to experience old age and maybe even wisdom, albeit for a very short time." - an inhuman grin stretches his lips as he looks at me.

And therein lies the problem. You live that long, things start happening to you. You get too impressed with yourself. Ends up, you think you’re God. Suddenly the little people, thirty, maybe forty years old, well, they don’t really matter anymore. You’ve seen whole societies rise and fall, and you start to feel you’re standing outside it all, and none of it really matters to you. And maybe you’ll start

snuffing those little people, just like picking daisies, if they get under your feet. Sure, you rationalize it to yourself

that you are doing it for the greater good. The stability you bring outweighs the excesses. The people you hurt are just the

small price that is always paid for peace. Well fuck you and fuck your peace.

I want to respond but my jaw locks, so I only smile.

He starts whispering the incantation and I feel my soul ripped from my body. And not a moment too soon. It is quite an unique sensation. The next sensation is pain, but it is nothing compared to earlier. My father is gravely ill. He would probably have died within a week.

My former body rises from the floor now with the help of the masked men. I can feel that aura of command, it is something nurtured for a thousand years. I can see the laughter in his eyes fur just a second until he realizes. The laughter turns into rage and then dare I say it? Yes, fear! Ah, the old man has not known fear for a long time. He doubles down and writhes violently on the floor.

Now, he will die within minutes. The poison is quick once it spreads through the body. One side effect is an inability to speak. I needed it just in case he tried to switch bodies again. I feel an incredible weight removed from my shoulders and I start laughing. Nothing personal father? Fuck you, it's personal.

As I see the 'old' man writhing on the floor in pain I realize that the end of the Empire is the beginning of all that is possible. Oh they will try to keep this hidden and they will fail. Goodness or atrocities, it does not even matter, as long as there is a choice.