It has all been burned. Legends on the battlefield now piles of dust soon to be blown away. Their legacy amounting to nothing but hopes of a single line in a book written on some third-hand account. Anything unfortunate enough to be left whole will rot and decay, be buried without graves. Nature will be sure to feast on the spoils.

And yet somehow amongst this ruin I remain. Amongst the blood that covers the dining hall walls, the flesh that fills the porcelain bowls at the table, in the rot and ruin, I am all that is left.

As I pass through the halls I am reminded of the scenes I have witnessed. Server boys cut down holding silver trays of olives. Father's losing sons, brothers killing brothers in blind anger. And in the end, all of it for a treasure that now only the living could possess. Only I.

The moment King Ledonous fell, the throne planted its hooks in my brain, called out to me from the beyond. Like a gnat in my ear it buzzed Sit, you are deserving. You are King if you just wish.

I looked around the chaos of the battle to see if anyone else had heard, but no faces turned. Only I could hear its want. Maybe it knew, knew I'd be the lone survivor of the bloody battle. Or maybe I had only survived only in pursuit of its power. Either way it called to me, even now.

You are champion! Come, find me and take your seat. Rule. The thrones voice floated through the castle halls like the smells of spring, wafting me ever closer.

Too long without power and the world collapses. It is you, it must be you! It begged.

Upon reaching the Great Hall the throne suddenly hushed into a collage of gossiping whispers in my head; I could hear none of what they said. The Kings headless corpse still remained on the seat, blood pouring down his blue robes and turning them black.

Voices flooded my head all at once, crowding to fit, begging to be heard. Each pushing the other aside to yell to me. I shut my eyes tight.

It could all be mine if I just took a seat I thought. And then the voices agreed, screaming in a castrophony of anguished voices.

You are deserving, no?

It could all be yours if you just took a seat

Take a seat

DO NOT LET THEM DIE FOR NOTHING

Upon opening my eyes I was face to face with the still seated corpse of Ledonous, his whitened hands now gesturing to take his place. From a great glass window above a beam of colored light shone down upon him as his hands bent. Bent in cracks like the twisting of a rabbits neck as he invited me to the throne, then the corpse fell limp from the seat.

Become. King. King Azadeus The throne belted its final plea.

I reached out with an eager hand and a greedy mind, gripping the arms of the throne. But the ecstacy died, replaced by images of the kings before me flooding my mind. One beheaded, another burned, a queen flayed; each flash revealing another stain on the throne in an infinite stack of stains that only piled larger. The throne was suddenly covered in its past.

I reached out beyond the throne and gripped a lantern from the wall behind.

What is this. Take your place foolish man! The throne yelled.

"You are ugly." I replied, slamming the lantern down in a burst of sparks.

And as the fire burned behind me, the castle belted smoke up to the sky, I was glad it was me that the throne had chosen.