The Virtuous Criminal

The Kangella Empire is an empire that began from a small and poor kingdom. A kingdom so small and poor that it could barely hold the title of a kingdom. The kingdom - Kingdom of Barazhan - only held 5,000 men alongside women and children in its humble beginnings. The country was so poor that even the king was a beggar. How could a country like that become such a mighty and vast empire that surpasses the Romans and even the British? Surely this must be the most fierce and brutal empire to ever exist? On the contrary, unlike the Romans and all the other mighty empires, Kangella rose to power through the virtue of mercy. When Kangella would overtake a nation, they’d do it with honor: restraining to strike a man without a weapon, never shedding the blood of the innocent, and taking more prisoners rather than deaths, but providing them with the support and means for freedom. Each nation that is integrated into the Kangella Empire must vow to uphold the statues and precepts to follow the same virtue of mercy to others as towards themselves. Any ruler of a nation that fails to uphold these vows will receive the same measure of mercilessness in which it was given.

Helena Amourette, prisoner to King Louis-Arnando V, king of the nation, Zavva-Myre, newest member to the Kangella Empire. Helena is kept away in a cell so far beneath the castle that one must travel to the very core of the earth to find her. Helena was thrown into this cell when she was fourteen, upon the birth of the king’s son, Prince Stephen. For fourteen years Helena has lived in a cell only lit by four taper candles. For fourteen years she has received not even a mere ounce of mercy from the king. Daily visited by him as he brings her meals, meals so intolerable and small that in comparison, the rats are feasting. To add alcohol to a wound with salt, the king, even with his daily royal duties, seems to have all the time in the world to taunt and berate Helena with degrading insults. The assault is never physical, though at this point that might even be better; for at least it wouldn’t cut as deep and linger as the degrading and unbearable words Helena endures. Fourteen years of this hell on earth, or in Helena’s case, hell in the earth. Sweet and strong-spirited Helena, never returning an insult, never lifting her hand in retaliation, not even the desire of evil against the king has stirred in her heart. O Sweet and strong-spirited Helena, arise and take up mercy as your sword, for the enemy approaches for battle once more. The steel door opens and standing in the candle lit cell is the King of Zavva-Myre.

“Greetings, my king,” Helena said.

Helena curtsies as the King puts out his hand for a kiss. A hairy hand - that might as well be a bear paw - with 12 rings on it. As usual, the king launches his verbal assault. No other soul shall hear these words for there is no soul that can withstand them like Helena. Afterwards, Helena asks the king for a request, a request that was promised by the king himself once Helena turned twenty-eight years old, which so happens to be today. She asks to see prince Stephen and upon hearing this, the king scoffs and laughs that Helena believed such a lie.

“But you promised me, Father!” Helena cries. Fourteen years I have waited, since the moment Stephen was born and I beheld him in my arms for a mere seven minutes before you locked me away, Helena said.

“I have no daughter! And you have neither father nor mother. I am the King thy ruler, you must remember thy place or I’ll charge you with treason,” The king said.

“Father? Father, is that you? A voice of a young boy said from the halls.

The king recognizes the voice immediately, but is confused upon how the voice is here.

“Stay out of here, Stephen!” The king commands.

“Stephen? Brother?” Helena quivers

Helena bolts for the door to see her brother, but the devil grabs and restrains her from moving any further. The devil can fight all he likes, but he cannot stop what is to come. Stephen enters and immediately locks eyes with Helena with a puzzled yet curious look.

“Who are you?” Stephen asks

“I am the first-born of the King, your sister, Princess Helena,” She exclaims

“Helena? Sister?” Stephen confusingly said.

These twelve words said by Helena enrage the king so vehemently on this day that for the first time in 28 years…King Louis-Arnando V has violently struck Princess Helena. Relentless and unyielding is this devil as the rings of his right hand rain like a meteor shower upon the beautiful and delicate face of the princess. Who could sit still and not rise up as a guardian angel? Here comes the honorable Prince Stephen as he is liberated from his paralysation of shock, intervenes in the battle against the devil.

“Father stop this at once!” Stephen cries out.

Stephen jumps onto the back of the king and attempts to restrain him with all his strength, but only manages to reduce the king's strength from a thousand men to a hundred men. The king begins to grunt and toss about like a wild boar while still charging for Helena. The king then manages to fend Stephen off of his back. Staring Helena down like a lion preying upon a zebra, the king unsheathes his sword and prepares to pounce.

“You will not tell another soul of your existence, but if you did, no one will believe you. For I am the King of Zavva-Myre! My word is law! If I say you don’t exist then that is truth and law,” the king proclaims.

The king raises his sword and points it towards Helena.

“I have had enough of you! I have endured you for 28 miserable years! No more! Hear this new law: today you are exiled…from life!” The king proclaims

The king lunges towards Helena as she is frightened.

“No, Father!” Helena and Stephen both cry out

As death is close, Helena closes her eyes to hide from this horror…blood is splattered. Helena opens her eyes once more…and to Helena’s and the king’s horror…King Louis-Arnando V has slain Prince Stephen. The king drops his sword as he comes to the realization that this horrific nightmare is reality.

“What have you done?!” Helena cries out.

“No, no, no , no!” The king said through sobs.

Helena sobs over her Stephen as he gently run his blood hands through Helena’s hair

“Forgive us,” Stephen says, choking on blood. “Run,” Stephen commands, and with that he draws his last breath.

“This would have never happened if you wouldn’t have been born!” The king cries.

“It would have been better for you to kill me the day that he was born so that I wouldn’t live to hold his...his…” Helena said shakingly.

“Oh forgive me for the slight delay! Fear not you shall receive your wish here and now! The king shouts.

The king scrambles to pick his sword up again, but before he could stand, Helena musters the little strength she had left and limps towards the opened entrance. The second Helena stepped into the hall, the door of the cell suddenly shut closed as if it had a mind of its own. Helena doesn’t waste time to ponder about this as she continues to limp towards the elevator shaft that leads to the earth. The king trapped in the hell he made, screaming one word over and over again:

“Helena! Helena! Helena! Helena!”