Relato Corto Blog Fiction

Piercing the Shadows


Reginald woke up in a dark room, but couldn’t figure out where he was. The memory of the pain he had to suffer came back—the young prince raised his arms but could only see scars where the rods had been driven into his body. He felt his arm but couldn’t find any trace of the metal artifacts.

As the prince rose from a stone bed…he lost his balance and easily pushed himself off the wall with one hand—he was shocked. Reginald felt light. Healthy. Full of life. What have they done to me? he wondered, walking towards the window.

Reginald realized that he was in a room high above Zurkaks—from there he was able to see the vast plains of his father’s reign. Then he ran towards the door, agitated at the thought of being a prisoner. They might know who he was like. To his surprise, the door was open.

He returned to his room and closed the door, when a strong sense of frustration assailed him. The young prince recalled the last conversation he had with his father.

“…it’s too late for that,” his father had said.

“Let me go back to the Brothers of the Rising Light,” Reginald said. “They will understand the seriousness of the situation…”

“Stop!” said Frederick, “I’m tired of this, boy. Go and do whatever you want with your life—obviously you are incapable of…Aslan could not defeat the Knights of Darkness. What chance do you have?”

The words were repeated over and over in the young prince’s mind. Reginald was willing to do whatever it took for his kingdom. That was important. Getting his light back could have been the only thing that mattered; without it, he was nobody.

Reginald knew that Aslan’s powers were unmatched, but there had to be a way to defeat the Knights of Darkness.

His father’s words haunted him. The prince felt an emptiness in his chest. He just wanted to make the king proud. He saw him as an idol. Reginald wanted to grow up to become as powerful as Frederick, but the pain kept growing.

Everything I’ve done to make you proud, Reginald thought. The wooden door to his dark room opened.

“I see you feel better,” Lady Night said, entering his room. “Use this…I have something to show you.”

Reginald grabbed the black leather satchel that Lady Night threw at him.

“I’ll be right back,” Lady Night said, before leaving the room.

Reginald found a black Knights of Darkness uniform and decided to put it on.

By the time Lady Night returned, the young prince looked like one of the soldiers from the Temple of Eternal Mist. “Follow me.”

Reginald walked through the dark stone corridors, hurriedly following the stranger. Inside him, the resentment against the memories of his father continued to grow. Feeling angry. You’ll see what I’m capable of, Reginald thought. I’m going to show you that I can be the most powerful.

Lady Night stopped. “They are waiting for you.”

Reginald looked at Lady Night curiously. “Them?” he said.

“You’ll be fine, Sparky,” Lady Night said, before opening the door. “Go on.”

Reginald frowned. Who are you calling Sparky?

Four hooded men waited in the room. Each was seated on a beautiful tall black wooden throne. In the middle of the room was a black blade greatsword on a wooden weapon rack.

This was the first time Reginald had seen the blade of the sword of darkness. To his surprise, the metal seemed to throb and somehow call out to him. The young prince was drawn to it. He wanted to grab it. Not caring about the consequences, Reginald walked straight to the greatsword and picked it up with one hand.

Calamity—the greatsword of darkness—rejected Reginald’s commands.

Reginald felt excruciating pain in his arms, a force that made the greatsword heavier and heavier. Pain spread through his chest. Reginald screamed at the top of his lungs. The rising anger helped him endure the pain.

The four hooded men rose to their feet, bolts of black lightning shooting from their fingers.

Reginald was surprised by the energy of the elders. The force calmed the pain emanating from Calamity. He raised the sword over his head…the pain disappeared.

As he lowered his sword, the young prince saw the four hooded men motionless on the ground. Then he heard the door behind him.

Lady Night walked in and saw Reginald holding the sword. “Good job, Sparky.”

Reginald frowned, then sheathed his greatsword—Calamity.

About the author

Sebastián Iturralde

Writer of enigmatic tales, weaving captivating narratives that provoke thought and stir the imagination. Unveiling the depths of human experience through words.


Relato Corto Blog Fiction

About Author

Sebastián Iturralde

Writer of enigmatic tales, weaving captivating narratives that provoke thought and stir the imagination. Unveiling the depths of human experience through words.