The bard glowingly recited the most shocking and famous story of the age, the death of King Manuel Theodren the fifth. It happened ten years ago at the height of the King's power. The assassins were never caught. The King's baron's created a council in light of the lack of a heir. And all of the world heard the story over and over again. Mothers told their children stories of the killers to make them obey. Fathers swore by their names.
The Dragon, The Wolf, The Rats, The Page, The Firehawk, The Mage, The Snake, and The Fox.
At least they got that part of the story right.
I know them differently.
The Dragon was Maria Melendez, a sweet and caring woman with a heart for orphans. I miss her still.
The Wolf was a large bald scarred man with a cookie for any kid brave enough to ask. His name was Luis Moreau.
The Rats was Thomas Lee, a quiet booklover with a soft smile.
The Firehawk was a dashing vibrant young man named Messaih Omand. Messaih could dance like no one ever and all the ladies wanted to twirl with him.
The Mage, was a short brunette named Susan Graves. She and Thomas were an item. She always had a good word for others.
The Snake. Aleksandra Tarasov. A sharp tongued beauty filled with passion and life.
The Fox. Fernando Guerra Gomez; a grey haired captain. Hard eyes and a firm mouth. Still, he had opened his camp to me. And that was more than most had.
And The Page. Myself. And I was never accepted by the late King. Never trusted. I was just deemed the least threat. And the others had distracted him enough for me to get behind him and bury my dagger cleanly into his throat. Freeing our world of his sorcerous tyranny.
I just wish I had aimed a bit better... because as his life blood leaked out he still had words in him. And with his death breath he cursed us.
"The world will hate you, the world will blame you, I will have your glory. You will have my shame. And the story will never be told as long as you live."
We didn't really pay attention. I think only Aleksandra and I were close enough to hear him anyways. But when we left the throne room and re-entered the world we had saved we found out how true his curse had flown. In the inn where we had stayed the night before; that night we'd been toasted as heroes for challenging his evil. The afternoon of his death there were death warrants up on the walls and men were cursing our names.
We fled in fear taking Maria's body with us. We buried her privately in a hidden grave for fear of her final resting place being desecrated. And then, we hid. Disappearing to private silent lives. Every time I run into others I have to listen to that murdering fiend's praises and to my comrade's good names being destroyed. So, secretly and with much care I have prepared this document proving our case... and hidden it deeply in every library I've found as well as in a few other well placed locations around the world. So that when our lives end, the sacrifices of my friends and their families in the war will be known. So that the freedom won in that final gamble will be valued. And so that a vile king's legacy will have the light of truth shine on it.