The lit torches glisten against the stone walls and illuminate his path. The young man knew this walk like the back of his hand, for he’s walked down this path more than once though all of his attempts had been thwarted. This time though, he could feel it in his bones, he knew that he will not fail. He will kill King Henry. Sharp claps of boots against the hard ground alerts him to oncoming guards. As quiet as a shadow, he hides behind a collection of barrels and crates near the wall rather than face them. If the guards caught him out of his cell once again, there would be no next attempt. He waits in the cover of the dark as the sound of guards fade into oblivion. When he’s positive that the guards have passed, he crawls out of the shadows and continues on his way. His feet don’t even make a sound as he hurries up the steep spiral steps. ‘Almost there.’ He thinks encouraging himself, pushing his feet to go faster. Soon it will not only be his moment of revenge but for the rest of the kingdom too. Ever since the new king came into power, things couldn’t be worse. All the king could cared about was himself and himself only. The king would have lavish feasts while people were starving, he had ridiculous nightly requests that would keep the people up until morning, and made sure there was no longer any fun in the land. This made the people angry, so to secure his his safety he had placed guards at every nook and cranny of his palace. But tonight will end all that. He cracks open the door only so much as to slide in unnoticed. As he makes his way over to the king, fast asleep in bed, he pulls out the sword he had taken from a guard earlier. The kings chest rises and falls with each breath looking peaceful, almost innocent. Almost. ‘Better not prolong this any longer,’ he says trying to make himself move faster before he’s discovered by guards. He brings the sword high over his head, then with all the force he can muster, slams it down unto the king and- The baby’s high pitched screams immediately erupt from his entire body, alerting the mother right outside in the hall bringing her in. She scoops the wailing baby into her arms trying to soothe him back to sleep. “Mikey, I told you not to wake up your brother Henry!” she says exasperatedly before swiping the foam sword out of her first born son’s hand. “And I told you multiple times, not to hit him. Now go back to the time-out chair,” she yells over the screaming baby. As Mikey sulks back to the time-out chair, he thinks about how good life was before Henry. But he won’t stand for his newly born brother’s tyranny any longer. One day he’s take his life back. One day.