The Not So Good Guy Series

Linus reached Castle Twinpeak as the sun climbed higher into the sky, casting long shadows over the imposing structure. The castle stood majestically atop two adjacent hills, its twin towers rising defiantly into the heavens. The crenelated parapets were manned by vigilant guards, swords and spears strapped to their backs, ready for action. The sound of sharpening blades echoed faintly from above, mingling with the morning breeze.

A massive iron gate guarded the castle's entrance. As Linus approached, the gate creaked open slowly, its heavy chains groaning under the strain. Beyond it, the grand courtyard revealed hints of preparation—a row of freshly forged weapons piled neatly against one wall, blacksmiths working with fevered intensity, their hammers ringing against anvils.

Linus moved through the castle's winding corridors, his footsteps echoing off the polished marble floors. Servants hurried past, their arms laden with bolts of cloth and bundles of arrows, while crates of provisions stood against the walls, ready to be transported. The air inside was cool but carried an undercurrent of urgency.

As Linus passed by an open archway, he caught a glimpse of soldiers training in a courtyard, their voices raised in battle cries as they drilled in unison. When he reached the entrance to the inner keep, a guard blocked his path, his eyes narrowing in recognition. "State your business, Linus," the guard demanded.

"His Majesty summoned me," Linus replied, calm but authoritative.

The guard's expression remained stern, but he gave a respectful nod. "Very well," he said, gesturing to a nearby servant waiting in the shadows. "Escort him to the King's chambers."

The servant stepped forward without a word, bowing slightly before guiding Linus through the labyrinthine hallways. The grand opulence of the castle's public areas gradually faded, replaced by a more subdued elegance as they approached the King's private quarters.

King Aldric was not in the throne room at this time, which could mean only one thing. The rumors are true.

The air grew noticeably cooler the closer he got, a quiet tension lingering in the corridors. As the servant leading him knocked gently, Linus couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that something was off.

The door opened with a soft creak, revealing a room steeped in intimate quiet. Heavy drapes were drawn partially open, allowing beams of sunlight to filter in and illuminate the space. The walls were lined with bookshelves overflowing with ancient tomes and scrolls, and a large fireplace crackled softly, providing warmth.

He stepped inside, his eyes subtly scanning the room. Right away, he sensed it once more. Although the King appeared to be alone in the area, Linus couldn't shake the feeling that someone else was observing him.

His gaze flicked over the details as he approached the bed—dust undisturbed on the far corners, the faint scent of herbs hanging in the air, and, near the bedside, a small, ornate medicine cup placed on the table.

The cup's rim was stained with dark residue, remnants of some concoction the King had taken recently. Linus noted it, wondering what effect the medicine was meant to have—and whether it was truly aiding the King's health.

In the center of the room, a grand four-poster bed draped with rich, dark fabric dominated the space. King Aldric lay there, his once formidable presence now reduced by age and illness. His hair, once a rich shade of auburn, was now a thin silver halo. His complexion was unnaturally pale, and his features appeared drawn and haggard as if he had not slept in days.

King Aldric's eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of the sharp intellect and authority that had defined his reign. He turned his head slightly, acknowledging Linus's presence with a faint nod, and beckoned him closer with a trembling hand. As he moved toward the bed, Linus felt the oppressive weight of the room, and the sensation of being watched intensified.

"Linus," the King rasped, his voice weak but polite. "You have come."

Linus bowed his head respectfully. "Your Majesty," he replied, his voice steady. "What do you require of me?"

King Aldric's gaze sharpened slightly, and he signaled Linus closer with his hand. "There is much to discuss... and little time," he said, each word strained, as if speaking cost him greatly. "But first... take a seat."

Linus pulled a chair closer to the bedside, prepared to listen and confirm why his presence was requested.

"I need you to head to Thornfield," the King continued his voice barely above a whisper. "Your skills with numbers and administration... they are well known. Mara needs guidance with the taxes. She is to oversee the township's welfare and administration. She must learn... as she is a princess and understand what it means to lead."

Linus nodded, masking any reaction. "I will see to it, Your Majesty," he replied, his tone unwavering.

King Aldric's eyes softened slightly, maintaining a polite but distant demeanor. "Thank you, Linus. Your assistance is appreciated."

The King closed his eyes for a moment, exhaustion washing over him, but his expression remained one of calm resolve. As Linus rose to leave, the King's hand moved weakly, almost instinctively, toward the medicine cup. Linus watched the small gesture but said nothing.

As the door closed softly behind him, Linus couldn't get rid of the sense that someone was observing him. It persisted even as he moved away from the King's chamber. He cast a final glance back, eyes narrowing at the shadows that seemed to loom just a bit longer than they should.

Alexander, King Aldric's eldest son and heir to the throne, was already maneuvering to consolidate his rule. Engaged in a relentless campaign to bring rebellious townships and tribes under his control, Alexander was determined to ensure that no challenge would threaten his claim when the time came.

Among the most troublesome of these factions was the Rudhiran clan. Known for their ruthless tactics and fierce resistance, the Rudhirans had seized upon the King's failing health to fuel their violent rebellions. It was rumored that the Rudhirans were receiving covert aid from Mariya, the neighboring country, which harbored its own ambitions and sought to exploit the kingdom's instability for its gain.

This alliance with Mariya had made the Rudhirans a far more formidable foe than any Alexander had faced before, stretching his military resources thin and adding a treacherous layer of complexity to the conflict. It was no longer just an internal rebellion but a proxy war with outside forces eager to destabilize the kingdom.

In this struggle, Alexander was supported by four powerful generals, each renowned for their battlefield prowess and unwavering loyalty. General Curtis Underwood, the most well-known among them, had proven instrumental in the fight against the rebellious factions. Known for his strategic brilliance, Underwood had led countless successful campaigns, carving out victories where others would have faltered. But his role went far beyond military engagements—he had been tasked with a secret mission to seek out sources of power that could tip the scales in Alexander's favor.

Underwood wasn't alone in this pursuit. General Elira Stone, the kingdom's most skilled sorceress and master of the arcane arts, had joined the hunt. Her knowledge of ancient magic and her ability to sense mystical energies made her invaluable in locating relics of power. She was rumored to possess the ability to bend the elements to her will, and her methods were as enigmatic as they were effective.

General Garreth Crowne, known as "The Iron Fist," was another of Alexander's trusted supporters. With a reputation for his unparalleled strength and brute force, Crowne commanded the kingdom's most formidable battalions.

Finally, there was General Lysandra Vale, an expert tactician and spy whose shadowy network extended across the kingdom and beyond. Known as "The Serpent," she specialized in gathering intelligence. Her ruthless efficiency and willingness to operate in the gray areas of morality made her both feared and respected.

These four generals—Underwood, Stone, Crowne, and Vale—were Alexander's most trusted allies in his quest for supremacy. Each was tasked with finding powerful relics, artifacts, and sources of magic to give the kingdom an edge against the Rudhirans and any nation that dared challenge Alexander's ambitions.

Alexander's dreams extended far beyond mere consolidation of power. He envisioned himself not just as the ruler of a single kingdom but as the supreme sovereign of the entire world of Boomi.

To maintain his focus, Alexander had begun methodically sending his siblings away from the capital, dispatching them to distant parts of the kingdom under the guise of diplomatic missions or responsibilities. This maneuver ensured that any potential competitors within the family were kept away, avoiding internal power struggles that could distract him from his larger goals.

Linus knew that he, too, was just a small part of this dangerous power game that Alexander played with ruthless precision.

Alexander was the son of the King's first wife out of four, Queen Evelina. He had a sister, Princess Elara. Queen Beatrice, the second wife, was the mother of Prince Leo and Princess Rosalind. Queen Margaret, the third wife, had a daughter, Princess Seraphina. Queen Helena, the fourth wife, had Mara.

He couldn't help but reflect on the complex web of family dynamics, especially Mara's tumultuous relationship with her eldest brother, Alexander.

The rumor—or rather, the open secret—was that Alexander had a hand in the death of Mara's mother, a dark accusation that lingered in the air like a curse. Proof remained elusive, yet the animosity brewed a storm within Mara, a tempest contained only by the sheer will of her resolve.

"Mara has dedicated her life to honing her skills with the blade, a pursuit fueled by a thirst for revenge rather than any desire to lead or govern," Linus thought, his internal monologue dripping with irony. "And yet, here she is, being sent to oversee the welfare of a township. It's a cruel jest to place her so far from her... 'interests.'"

Despite these musings, Linus was aware of Mara's isolation within the court's intricate social labyrinth. Her relentless focus on martial prowess left little room for the cultivation of alliances or the nurturing of political influence. She was a warrior in a court of schemers, a blade honed for battle, not for the delicate dance of diplomacy. Linus saw an opportunity in this—her singular focus could be exploited, and her lack of alliances was a vulnerability he could manipulate.

Linus allowed himself a rare, fleeting smile, the faintest twitch of his lips as he considered how he might play his part in this grand game. Each sibling was a pawn, a potential ally, or an obstacle, and Alexander ruthlessly removed them. But even the most careful player could be blindsided by a piece he underestimated, a threat nurtured in silence.