The Rowdy Prince

King Zachaeus, looked gloomy, staring at the night sky from his high-rise balcony. A gold-plated box clutched in his palms. His expression was sternly dark, as flashes of scenes played in his mind. Screams of women, chasing footsteps, a bloody hand clung onto the hem of his clothes; the person on the brink of death uttered a request which he reluctantly fulfilled. The dying person’s eyes showed no signs of despair or fear, rather they were filled with hatred and a strange aura of strength, followed by an ear-splitting scream.

Zachaeus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He then proceeded to open the box. The insides of it were covered in red velvet and in it, there was a white round crystal, shattered into pieces. He took out the biggest shard which still has the shape of its initial form and looked at it, before putting it back, and closing the lid. He then went up to a locker that was concealed within a phoenix statue in his room and put it back. Soon his phone rang; the screen