The Caged Bird

The palace walls were a polished gray, adorned with pillars that held dark purple banners; covered in intricate etchings made of golden quilting. A grandiose throne of granite sat atop an elevated platform. Streaks of gold were engraved onto the throne, giving it a sense of authority along with the man who sat upon it. The dense cushions were blood-red, and these too had been embellished with golden embroidery. The man who sat upon the throne whose crown was gilded with gold was not a man of a virtuous heart. Instead, he was more of a monster, or a demon, who enjoyed seeing fear and terror devour his victims, whole. Despite these atrocities, he was fortunate and blessed. It was unfair to watch him commit crimes and be rewarded with the title of king.  The king claimed he was a religious person and sought to justify his actions, as he did when he captured Elara. She was kept in a bronze cage that stood in the middle of the throne room floor so everybody who entered and left the throne room could see. It was a way to humiliate her. He said it was because she “disobeyed” him, that the gods had told him to do it.  The moment Elara was born she was taken away from her mother. There was no morality in this man, he never made exceptions; he was a heartless, cold-blooded killer. The begging and pleading never seemed to work, no matter how many tears she shed. Freedom would never come. She was fated to watch her life slip through her fingers, leaving her behind with nowhere to escape.  Elara stared out of the cage at the king, sitting idly on his throne. She loathed him, the emotion was so strong it would send ripples into the air. Everyone always told her that what the king was doing for her made her special, that this act of kindness should be returned, and that she need not complain, because whatever punishments he gave her were for her own good; to teach her discipline.  A sudden pain stung her back. She winced. She believed she had grown used to the pain. However, it was difficult to pretend it wasn’t there. The people there never cared, they only wanted to see her use magic and admire her beauty; to worship her. It was never their wish to see her happy, so they would never set her free.  Her hair was down, falling below her chin, tresses of magenta dangling by her waist. Her lips trembled as she grasped the bronze bars of the cage, rage leaked through her eyes, and the hatred she held for him would never go away. Suddenly, the two giant doors of teak swung open, sending a tremble into the ground.  “What is the meaning of this?!” The king shouted, his brows furrowed as he got up to get a closer look at the fool who had interrupted his ‘wonderful’ time with Elara. A figure walked through, followed by three others.  “It is I, the one who will slay the tyrant and free this land of tyranny.” The figure said, stepping closer.  “How foolish! Guards, get him!” The king yelled. The guards tried but could not stop the figure and were all slain in a matter of seconds.  The other three went around rounding up some of the servants that were there and helped get rid of some guards. The king was taken aback, his eyes were wide with fear, he unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the figure. “I dare you to step closer. You—you dirty money-gobbling peasant. I bet that’s all you want. Money! I refuse to give any of my precious gold to the likes of you!” “Do not worry, ‘my’ king. It is not your gold that has led me here. Instead, it was your tyranny and cold-heartedness,” the figure said, stepping closer.  "Tyranny! What tyranny!" You foolish man! You do not even know what you are saying!” “Whether you believe me is up to you. I will not force you.”  The figure took a deep breath. He ran at the king, who could not react in time, causing him to tumble down. The king slashed the figure on the shoulder and crawled backward. The figure took his sword and tried to stab the king. But couldn't. The king got up and tried to run away, but he didn’t get far, since he had collected a large amount of fat over the years. The figure ran towards him and jumped on him. Finally, he had caught the king. He took his sword and slowly pierced it through the king’s chest. “I am not a peasant." The figure clicked his teeth, as he put the sword deeper. I have to say, I took offense to that comment. Nevertheless, I am the Duke of Lamont.”  Bubbles of blood came out of the king's mouth, his body moved uncontrollably, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Even with all of this, he could recognize that title. It was the title he had given to his brother,  but that man wasn’t his brother…Who was he? Streams of blood trailed down his mouth. And a pool ran down his body. The king was officially dead.   The Duke got up and winced, the wound on his shoulder was quite deep. He looked at the cage. Elara looked at him. She didn't know if she was supposed to be scared or happy. The duke walked in her direction. "D-DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!" she shouted, as she closed her eyes. The duke ignored this. He continued to walk. The sudden rustling of keys was all Elata could hear. She carefully opened her eyes. He had opened the cage, the filthy cage she had to endure for years! She was finally free. The duke backed up waiting for her to come out. Elara came out. She was free...She looked at the Duke and smiled. "Thank you..." She said. "Your very most welcome, miss." The Duke replied. Sadly, all happy endings must come to an end. Elara suddenly fell with a heavy thud. The duke, alarmed, tried to catch her. "Hello? Miss respond." Elara could not wake up, the king had fed her poison all this time. Over the years it was accumulating in her body. And she could no longer take it. Unfortunately, Elara died that day along with the king.