Raphael Dymear

The age of Kings and Queens has held a strong foothold in the ideals of the people. A class system to determine the general public's place in the food chain. This, however, is not a story of the weak or the poor. It is one of a man who's ambitions cause him to turn his back on all that held HIM near and dear.

Growing up in the shadow of your father has some recoil. A sizable amount depending on the psychological state of the one living by such a condition. From birth until he entered manhood, his King remained a respected individual among the people of the Damascus empire. With two siblings and a loving mother, one would not assume that Raphael was to become so unstable. His first exploit of this lack of satisfaction was the way he treated his concubines at the age of twenty-two. Having a harem of different women at his fingertips with all sorts of different body types and personalities to choose from, one would think this to be quite the.. way of living. His first woman: Meek, timid, submissive. It was what she was taught since entering the life of a royal concubine. The first night she spent with him she was found bound to the bed with a multitude of bruises. The situation was deemed a mishap. The royal council covered up the situation to say that a bunch of criminals stealth their way into the kingdom, bound, gagged and raped this woman.

What were the details of that night? Only two people know the specifics and neither one dared utter a word of it. To this day she is still of the royal harem, however.. she is used for lesser a cause; or a greater one depending on whom is imposed the question, serving the King's guard. A thorough scolding followed by both father and mother. His siblings laughed at the idea, saying that Raphael was an uncontrollable savage. They were not far from the truth...

Twenty-Four years of age. Raphael had gone through a number of concubines and finally discovered his insatiable desires in both lusts and for power. Often Raphael would walk the castle grounds. Never greeting his subjects, but keeping a stern expression. He wanted his presence to be known and revered. The unfortunate happenings of coming across a servant not doing his or her task properly were not uncommon. Raphael, though manipulative was never above getting his hands dirty. What mediated this was the subsequent consequences to follow. Could he talk his way out of the follow-up situation? Yes? Then he will scold and strike the servant. No? Then he will have the guards handle the 'deviant'. By this age, Raphael has been presented two thieves who made the unwitting attempt to break into the castle and try to steal items of value.

It was a warm summer evening, the cicadas could be heard in the distance rising and falling in their animalistic ways. The goldenrod hue in the sky cascading from the sun itself on off to the distance until it turned into a nautical blue. Both thieves were bound by the wrists and a sword held to both of their necks to ensure their attempts to flee would be short-lived. Marcus, Rachael's father was willing to repeal the sentence initially discussed over the criminals. To have them banished I to the mines for six seasons as repayment for their treason. The remainder of the family, save for Raphael agreed to this, however, Raphael was not going to stand for such a sentence! Steal from me!? The young prince thought as he had one of his women situated in his lap with his hand between her legs playing with the wet folds which caused her to writhe.

Raphael was not going to have it and denied the motion when the family was having their final discussion amid themselves. He deviated away from the family. Leaving his concubine at his own crafted throne which sat in line with his parents and siblings. Approaching the thieves which eyed him as a selfish, spoiled brat but dared not speak a word. The boy still not having fully grown in his beard yet looked down at one of the thieves. "Your lives may yet be spared." Looking over his shoulder at the conversing peers. "They believe" Raphael shifted his gaze to the other thief. "That you deserve a second chance a life." The inhale between his sentences was quick as though there was a point to make. "But I don't agree. Who's to say you are going to abide by the forgiveness they have provided in sparing your lives, let alone your fingers." The more he spoke to the thieves the more feverish his voice was becoming. The boy's nostrils flared and in a fit of rage. "Aye. Aye. I'll have none of it!" The sudden shout is what grabbed Marcus' attention to raise his head. Raphael commanded the knight's sword to be handed over and in one strike he brought the blade down into one of the skulls of those who he felt wronged him. Strong, but not efficient with a blade, Raphael struck time and time again into the man's skull who could only brace for the first strike before his life was wicked away on a violent battering with the bladed weapon.

Blood sprayed and splashed with each cut and gash. The crushing sound of the bone collapsing and the Brain being cleaved open into different segments sang like cherubs to his ears. By the time he was satisfied the head sat on display. Bleeding from the new openings onto the floor. He felt.. empowered. He wanted more! Looking over the Crimson sheen on the metal surface he could see his face in the hues of pastel red.

Then a voice boomed. Marcus shouting out the prince's name in scolding. Raphael did not flinch. Did not respond, although he listened as his father neared. Hearing every word said about how a king, Prince, queen or princess never takes the life forms another with his own hands. That he must learn that the laws are the laws for a reason. Forgiveness is possible as well as the changing of a person for the better. Some points Raphael agreed than disagreed but the overall sensation mulling over at his core was resentment. The entire scolding he did not make eye contact with his father, still having that God-fearing sensation rolling over in his mind. That was until the last sentence Marcus said. "These are our subjects. We must respect them as they respect us." Raphael's eyes narrowed when he looked up to the man standing near eye level with each other. "Yes... All. Hail the King" Raphael practically spat those words as he tossed the blade onto the ground as it sounded off with a repeated CLANG.

This was the evening he developed resentment for his family. As he excused himself he saw his mother and siblings only watch. Never saying a word. What did their opinions matter!? Always in the background! Respect the weak!? Pah! Raphael raged once he got into his room. But, it was this rage that began to temper something within his soul. They remained, the thief was banished to the mines for six seasons. In six seasons Raphael began to use something with that heated soul of his. Tempering himself. Refining himself. Forging his person to not be in the same relation as his father. He will do it better, he will do it faster. Raphael will be the better King.

The Prince trained himself. Loving the feel of a sword in hand he spent day after day training and honing his abilities to handle bladed weapons though being fond of the rapier over all others.

By age twenty-five, he had come taken over a neighboring town. Against his father's wishes, he leads the front line. A battle hard fought and not without his fair share of scars, tossing himself into the fires of combat to further temper and shape that spirit of his.

Age twenty-seven Raphael enlisted himself to the army and sat on diplomatic debates. Teaching himself proper discipline in both body and tongue all the while learning who can be manipulated and who not. His elder sister had become pregnant with the son of a blacksmith. She, age 30 saw fondness in the hard work this man did. Marcus welcomed this man with open arms. "If you are the one she wishes to spend her time with. We can shape you into a proper Noble." The declaration made Raphael sick as he stood aloof from his family in joyous celebrating.

"The weak should not reign.."

The coming season was a cold one with heavy snow bringing most production to a halt. Cool winds crawled from the Windows into the lukewarm hallways as dinner was being prepared on the table for the family to dine. "You know. The people have been quite quiet their last few seasons. No one has come to any of the tribunals." Marcus rattled off events where there were normally sizable people. As wise as he was one would think he'd be sharp enough to pick up on the tell-tale signs. "Oh Dear. Don't worry too much." His wife spoke as the flavor of the duck filled her mouth. A succulent taste with just enough seasoning. The remainder of the dinner was silent. Not even Raphael saying a word as he cut into the boar's side to carve off a chunk of meat.

Midway through the meal, a loud explosion came from the main door. While Marcus raised his head Raphael continued to eat. Another sound resonating similarly echoed in their halls until a successive one came with it the roaring voices of the many people barreling through. "Father," Raphael said, putting the piece of boar in his mouth. Eating it as finger food. "I believe the people are rebelling." Once he thoroughly chewed his food. Marcus and the rest of the Dymear kin stood up shouting for the guards who just could not be found. Not a single weapon sat in the dining hall. The weapon mantles seemingly stripped beforehand and only just now being taken into account. Marcus cried out for the weapons but there was none. "Down with King Marcus!" The chants rang through the halls over the trampling of their feet. They moved without resistance. No one suited in armor... no one bearing a weapon to defend the Damascus family. "You are weak, father." Throwing the chuck toward his still pregnant sister. "ALL OF YOU! WEAK!" Rising from his chair. The wooden furnish fell back with his momentum. "You stand idly by while this man ruins our name. Ruins our Kingdom!" The populace began to pool into the dining hall. Surrounding Marcus and rounding up the Queen in her own circle while Raphael's two siblings were thrown to the ground with edged farm tools threatening their vitals.

"You see. Father. All have abandoned you. They see you for what you are. A criminal!" Raphael spouted out the lies that only rallied the crowd. "You raped my sister and paid off a man to be the father..." His voice trailed off. On the dinner table, the head of the blacksmith was presented, removed from the body and the eyes gouged from the sockets, though, from the rather rough cut and the sloppy placement, the head rolled off from the dinner table and landed next to The pregnant daughter. Faced with the mutilated face of her child's father she screamed at the top of her lungs in disbelief and fright. All but Marcus pled that Raphael "stop this nonsense" which all claims were refuted and rebutted. Raphael's brother was accused as a serial rapist. Having several women who; Raphael in fact used and abused to step forth to Raphael's side and shout obscenities to a prince they had nothing to do with!

"And mother..dear sister.." coupling them together. The roars of the crowd growing more ferocious as Raphael's brought cases were soon upon the King. "Had I known sooner.." Going on to explain their 'plot' to seduce their way into the neighboring kingdoms and gain a foothold in the political schemes.

"And how could I of course.. leave out my loving father." Stepping up on top of the table. Kicking some of the food of that was in his path to reach the other side. "MY FATHER, MY FATHER! LORD AND KING MARCUS DYMEAR!!!" Shouting at the top of his lungs. "You not only betrayed me and lied to me..." The look in Marcus' eyes was one of hate yet a part of him was proud...? Noted only by the smirk at the corner of his lips.

The evening went on. The snow fell and the birds chirped, those daring enough to stay the winter season.

-
-
-
-
-
-
Princess Natalie Dymear: Imprisoned until the birth of her child. Beheaded.
-
-
-
-
-
Prince Damien Dymear: Sodomized atop a newly crafted torture device.
-
-
-
-
-
Queen Laura Dymear: Fed to the wild beasts.
-
-
-
-
-
King Marcus Dymear: Cast from the highest point of the castle the following week.
-
-
-
-
-
Prince Raphael Dymear: King of Damascus
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Lily Smithton: Missing