Eleven men had gathered in an unassuming hut in the capital city of Caelanthor. Together, they had received a sinister mission from the Queen of the Melandor Empire: to plot against the kingdom of Kaelon, a plot that would reach all the way to the king himself.
Four of the men were from Kaelon itself, traitors to their own people, while the remaining seven came from the neighboring kingdom of Melandor. Their plan was as simple as it was cruel: to turn the king against his own subjects until the people, weary of their ruler, would finally overthrow him. Now they were ready to put their malevolent plan for the gradual destruction of Kaelon into action.
Caelanthor was suddenly in an uproar. Elandor was out in the city with his family; they were strolling happily and carefree through the streets when a townsman rushed up and frantically addressed the king. "Elandor! My king, please come quickly…" the man gasped, completely out of breath. Elandor placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, boy. What happened?" The man took a deep breath and blurted out, "There's been a violent altercation at the market. A resident has been seriously injured; he's already lying lifeless on the ground. His head is covered in blood." Elandor's expression darkened instantly. He turned to his wife. "My beloved, please go home with Elenya and Lyrielle first. They mustn't see the blood." Lysandra nodded silently and led her two young daughters away from the scene.
Elandor hurried with the messenger to the market. There he saw the injured man, lying motionless on the ground, covered in blood. "What happened here?" Elandor demanded sharply at the crowd, his malevolent gaze fixed on the obvious assailant. The attacker, a muscle-bound, bald giant named Marven, stepped forward. "This foreigner and his men are ruining our businesses... They had to be punished for that!" "Punished by you?!" thundered Elandor. "You are neither the executive nor the judiciary! You have no right to judge anyone, and certainly not to use force!" His voice was harsh with anger. Marven merely laughed derisively and advised Elandor to worry less about him and more about his wife and daughters. "You dare to lecture me?" Elandor snapped. Marven just grinned and remained silent. "Fine, if you have nothing more to say!" shouted Elandor. "Guards! Lock this man in the dungeon until he is brought to trial. And if the victim dies, you will pay with your life!"
Sunspeakers rushed forward and desperately tried to save the injured man, but he had already lost too much blood. Discontent arose in the crowd over the king's decision. Quiet voices were heard: "Marven may have acted too harshly, but he certainly didn't want the stranger to die." "He's right, the foreigners are ruining our businesses." "His livelihood! Those foreigners certainly deserved it."
Almost simultaneously with the riot at the market, Lysandra and her two young daughters, nine-year-old Elenya and six-year-old Lyrielle, were ambushed by ten men in a deserted alley. Since the townspeople had gathered at the market, the streets were empty. The men gagged Lysandra and threatened her: "If you resist, your children will pay with their lives!" They threatened the children in turn: "If you resist, we will have to hurt your mother very badly!" said one of the men with a broad, repulsive grin. Thus, the men expected no resistance. They dragged Lysandra and the girls into a nearby hut to assault the queen. The doors slammed shut. There was no escape from the horrific scene that was about to unfold. They tore her clothes off without even the decency to cover the children's eyes.
"Children, do you remember the game Papa used to play with us?" Lysandra asked hurriedly, her voice trembling. The two nodded, their faces streaked with tears. "Then we'll play that game now. Yes?! Until I touch your arm," Lysandra said, trying to smile despite the tears welling in her eyes. The little ones obediently closed their eyes, pressed their hands over their ears, and began to hum a song loudly.
What happened next robbed Lysandra of all dignity, all strength. The men didn't wait. They held her fast, leaving her no room to breathe, no escape. She endured it silently—for one reason only:
As long as her daughters sang, they were still alive.
Suddenly, Lysandra heard her daughters stop singing. That moment was worse than anything she had ever had to endure. "Don't stop singing, my two little rays of sunshine! Don't stop, okay?! Listen to Mama. Everything will be alright, my two little rays of sunshine!" "Yes, Mama," a little voice answered obediently, and they continued humming the song.
But that wasn't all. After the brutal attack, the men planned to behead Lysandra and her daughters. "Who should we behead first?" one asked, laughing. "Let's start with the children," another suggested. "They'll have their eyes closed anyway and won't even notice if we kill their mother. That wouldn't be any fun." He laughed shamelessly.
Lysandra begged for her children's lives. "Please, spare my two little rays of sunshine! They haven't done anything to anyone! Kill me if you absolutely must—but let my daughters live." One of the men answered tonelessly and harshly. "Your husband didn't spare our families either. Why should we show mercy now? Say goodbye to your little sparks, you filthy whore! Oh, they can't even hear you." Laughter filled the room. "Pleeease!" Lysandra cried, sobbing. "My husband certainly wouldn't have done such a thing. He's an honorable man. This must be some misunderstanding. You come from the kingdom of Melandor?" "That revelation won't do you any good now!" one of the men replied coldly. "You're just whining for your life and the lives of your brood. Back then, our families whined. And your husband and his soldiers slaughtered them like cattle. Did he have mercy? Keep begging, maybe we'll spare you!" He paused for effect. "Hahaha, that was just a lie! We'll never spare you and your brood!"
A dull thud echoed through the hut. Then a second. The song stopped. Something inside Lysandra died that no god could ever heal. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She just stared at the men—blank, broken, but filled with hatred. Then the men approached Lysandra. "A few last words, you filthy whore?!" Lysandra no longer begged for her life. She was powerless, broken by the death of her children. "Just do it already!" she cried, filled with pain and hatred. "Kill me if it makes you feel better. But this won't be the end! I swear!" The hatred within her grew immeasurably. "My husband will haunt you for eternity, hunt you down, and slaughter you like cattle!" The men grinned, unmoved. "We certainly hope so! This was all planned, you stupid whore!" Lysandra stared in horror, but it was too late. She closed her eyes and prayed to the sun one last time. Then the sword swung down.
The men impaled the heads of Lysandra, Elenya and Lyrielle on spears and rammed them into the ground next to the well – as a message to King Elandor. Townspeople discovered the horrific scene and, shocked, alerted the king. Elandor rushed to the scene, but he was too late. He fell to his knees and cried out in agony to the heavens, louder than he had ever cried before in his life. "Why?! Why, God?! What did I do wrong?! What did I do to incur your wrath? Why did you take my family from me?! Take me for my sins! Haven't I always served you faithfully?!"
Elandor's entire body began to tremble uncontrollably. His chest, heart, and throat constricted so tightly that he could barely breathe. He lay limp on the ground and vomited several times. He could no longer perceive his surroundings properly; everything was just a blur. Elandor realized that he could no longer speak the names of his loved ones. Desperately, he tried to pronounce their names, but he simply couldn't. Tears streaming down his face, he gasped on the ground and clutched his neck tightly with both hands, as if trying to force himself to say the names of his loved ones.
Eyewitnesses reported that men from the city had left the hut. Elandor immediately dispatched his guards. They quickly located the suspects and arrested three men from the capital. But instead of showing remorse, these men laughed shamelessly. "She smelled so wonderful," one sneered. "I've never fucked such a beautiful whore. Her flesh was so tender and..." "Stop it!" Elandor roared in fury and plunged his sword into the man's thigh. The man continued to laugh despite the pain. "Your wife was fucked by dozens of men, in front of your daughters. And then we beheaded the little ones in front of your whore! Hahaha..." Elandor twisted the sword in the wound to silence him. "Who are these pigs?! Tell me!! I want names!" His gaze was murderous. "If you don't tell me, I'll slaughter your family like cattle!" "I will never tell you," the wounded man gasped. "Just kill me! You've already killed my family. You can't take anything more from me. You want names? Find them out yourself!" Elandor pulled his sword from his leg and thrust it straight into the man's heart.
He turned to the second prisoner. "Then we'll play the same game with you. You know the rules." The prisoner interrupted him: "Yes, I know the game. We've already played it with your wife and daughters…" Before he could finish, Elandor pierced his heart as well.
He strode toward the third prisoner. "Now for you, you Noralem!" Elandor spat out—which meant "Dishonorable." "You get only one chance! Just one! Make a wise choice!" The man, Torlin, trembled. "I will say nothing! Did you make a wise decision when you executed my family? You won't get a word out of me. Torture me, kill me, but I will remain silent!" "I have never in my entire life taken the lives of women and children! If you continue to tell lies and have nothing else to say, then I will execute you on the spot!" Elandor shouted, raising his sword.
"No, my king!" cried Kaeldrim, the king's right hand and once his father's advisor. "I know how you feel. But we need him alive! Otherwise, we can never bring the other criminals to justice. We must give him a fair trial. What would the people think of us otherwise?" Reluctantly, Elandor lowered his sword. He knew Kaeldrim was right. Suddenly he looked at his hands, which were covered in blood; was it his blood or the blood of others?
Then a guard called out, "My king, one of the prisoners wishes to speak with you." Elandor went to the dungeon. It was Marven, the man from the marketplace. "I only distracted you so the others would have time to rape your wife and execute her along with your daughters," Marven laughed. "Even the one who called you at the market was one of us… Hahaha…" It was an obvious lie, but Elandor was blinded by rage. "Tell me who else belongs to us, and you'll get a reduced sentence," Elandor offered. He gestured for the arrest of the man who had brought him to the market. Marven burst into devilish laughter. "You won't get any more information from me. I'll take it to my grave." "Then you'll be put on trial," Elandor said coldly. "And you'll hang from the gallows!"
Shortly afterward, a guard brought in the man who had fetched Elandor. Elandor confronted him and pierced his thigh. "Who else is behind this?" he demanded furiously. "This is your last chance!" "But my king, I have nothing to do with this! I swear!" the man begged for mercy in agony. Elandor didn't believe him and beheaded him on the spot. Only when his head rolled did he come to his senses – but it was too late. "Ha... ha... ha…," Marven's laughter echoed from the cell. "I lied to you. He wasn't even there. I'll never tell you the names of the real perpetrators!"
The townspeople, who witnessed the events, were stunned by their king's vigilante justice. Elandor had to restrain himself from killing Marven immediately. He wanted the remaining criminals. He placed a bounty: 10 kael—gold ducats—for each head, dead or alive. When no leads came in, he increased it to 20, 30, 40, and finally 50 kael. The people's greed was awakened. Countless false tips poured in, implicating their own neighbors. Dozens of innocent people were executed. A climate of fear gripped Kaelon. Many fled to neighboring kingdoms.
Meanwhile, the true culprits, the Melandorians, had long since escaped. Infiltrators from Melandor now freed Torlin and Marven. Elandor sent an unmistakable message to all neighboring kingdoms: "Hand over the criminals! If you protect them, your kingdom will burn!" Most kingdoms refused to comply with Elandor's insane demands, as they could no longer bear to witness this madness, let alone condone it. Three kingdoms—Baiteng, Aelorienne, and Serenwynn—allied themselves and declared war on Kaelon should Elandor attack.
Only the queen of the neighboring kingdom of Melandor sent Elandor the heads of the criminals, including those of Torlin and Marven, who had fled to her kingdom. She called it "an act of goodwill toward her peaceful coexistence with the kingdom of Kaelon." She, of all people, the mastermind behind the murders of Lysandra, Elenya, and Lyrielle, pretended to be a friend of Kaelon.