It was a calm day in the palace as the young prince, Charles Reol Folsone, listened to his father speaking with his cabinet.  Though he was only twelve, his father had him present at every meeting he held.  “It’s important for you to know these things now, as I may one day not be able to teach you,” he had once told the boy.  And so, here he sat, bored and unattentive, trying to find some way to pass the time.  
“The Tonarins are no longer a threat to us, Your Majesty,” the king’s general reported.  “After decades of squabbling amongst the populace along both sides of the border, an agreement has finally been reached.  Neither group will throw a shadow upon us again.”
The king smiled in approval.  “Excellent work, Andrew.”  he stood to shake the general’s hand.  You’ve always followed through with your word,”  
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”  he bowed.  
Chuckling, the favored ruler said, “I guess you’ll never understand that I don’t like it when people call me ‘Your Majesty’.  
“That’s just because you are not the proper king you should be,”  Andrew smirked.  
The prince wearily glanced over at his bodyguard, leaning apathetically against a wall in the corner and rolled his eyes.  The man, wearing a dark blue suit and a flowing cape, many weapons hiding within the numerous folds of his outfit, nodded slightly in agreement, but said nothing, keeping his face cold and emotionless.  The king stared over at his child, “I’m sorry, son, but you’ll need to know these things someday.”  Charles sighed and focused back on the meeting.  
One of the aides was about to resume speaking when the captain of the palace guard burst into the room.  “Trouble, sire!”  he panted, trying to desperately to catch his breath.  There was a large gash on his head, and blood was slowly dripping to the floor.  Everyone immediately jumped to their feet, anxious to hear the cause for concern.  
“What is it, Robert?”  the king demanded.  The wounded man stumbled over to the window and stared out.  “Robert Arite, what is going on?!”  
He caught himself, and said through heavy breaths, “A revolt, sire! An uprising began in one of the cities and as the soldiers moved in to keep order, they were ambushed.  Almost none of the men came back.  And on top of this, about two hundred of our troops turned on their own men and killed them.  They have stormed the palace grounds, and we are trying our best to hold them off, but we know it will only be a matter of time before they reach us.”
The king lost his strength and sunk into a chair.  “How could this be?”
Robert grew somber and said in stunned disbelief, “We’ve been betrayed...”
The ruler motioned over to his son.  “Jonathan, take him to safety.  He must get out of here!”  The bodyguard grabbed the young prince firmly by his arm, as he could see that he wanted to stay and protect his father.  Charles yelled in protest, but Jonathan picked him up and ran with him down the hall.
King Edward stared out the window at one of the many palace gardens in defeat.  There was fighting everywhere.  A trio of palace guards dashed into the garden, ready to give their lives for their king.  They ran toward the gate, which the invaders were already beating down.  The door shuddered violently again and again, but held its own.  The king held his breath.  His hopes were shattered when the gate finally collapsed and dozens of men spilled through the hole, dashing for the palace in a great flood of shouting and firing.  The three guards were helpless and fell before the onslaught before they could react.  
Upon seeing this, Edward returned to his senses and spun to face his advisors.  He pointed to the door.  “Go now.  There might still be a chance for you to escape,” he said, keeping himself calm and collected.  They all shook their heads.
“When I joined you, I vowed to stand by you to the end,” the general stood strong,  “and that is exactly what I plan to do.”  The others nodded in agreement.  “We will go where you go, Your Majesty.”
The ruler smiled grimly.  “I would rather have no one else with me on this terrible day.”  Before they even reached the door, gunshots sounded from around the corner, followed by the screams of men, women, and even children as they fell to the ground.  “Oh my god, they’re even targeting the whole families...”  King Edward could not believe it.  “We need to get to Evelyn!  Follow me, we don’t have much time.  I fear it’s already too late!”  They dashed down the hall with all they had.  Up the stairwell, past the countless clashes of palace guards against the flood of marauders, and to the highest level of the palace they ran.  
When they reached the top of the steps and approached the royal chambers, Edward heaved a sigh of relief, though mixed with worry.   A number of guards stood vigilantly around the bedroom door, watchful of anyone that might come up here.  They saw the king and one of the defenders approached him.  “King Edward, it is a relief to see you well in this crisis.”  The ruler nodded and looked past the soldier to his wife, who had stepped out into the hall.  She was quite beautiful, with dark blue eyes and flowing red hair.  Her forehead showed the tension of the moment, but did nothing to betray her soft, smooth expression.  
The two embraced each other warmly.  She looked up at him, calmly asking, “Did you get Charles out?”  
He nodded.  “Jonathan is with him.  There is no need to worry about him.”  Growing solemn, he said “I don’t think we will get out of this alive, dear.”  
“I know.” she held him tighter and sighed.  “But we must try.”  She looked up from her husband to the circle of loyal men and women who had spent so many years with them.  “We must try,” she repeated in a whisper.  
King Edward released his wife and pushed his way through the  crowd of guards, many wounded, but all alert, to speak with the Captain of the Guard.  “Robert, how many of these man can fight?”  
The captain, who had now gotten control of himself, said, “All twenty-four of them will fight for you, but there are only five who haven’t yet been wounded.”  
“That will have to do,” their king said, considering his choices.  “Follow me.  We need to get to Cairne’s Defense-Way.  It’s been years since I’ve been there, but I remember the path.  There is an extra emergency broadcast system in it.  We can use that to transmit our final orders.  There should be an elevator leading down to the lower levels just a couple floors down.  I hope I remember the way...”  He spun and began descending the stairs, followed closely by his allies.  
As they were sinking further into the stairwell, an explosion sent ripples throughout the foundation, causing the party to slow to a stop.  The general turned to a window and stared out.  He saw a large pillar of smoke rising in the distance, several miles away.  A brilliant streak of light flashed past the window and shot into a marketplace just outside the palace walls.  The market exploded in a brilliant flash of light, and another immense rumbling shook the palace.  He pivoted to face the group and explained solemnly, “They’re using missiles.  They don’t care who or what they hit.  This is no rebellion, it’s an invasion!”  They gasped in shock and rage, but forced themselves to continue downward.  
When they had finally reached the proper floor, the king led the group down a narrow corridor to a large, iron door.  He pressed his hand to a small scanner and entered a code in on the keypad.  “Arite, stay with the guards and keep the enemy from gaining control of this shaft.  Follow us down once we reach the bottom.  The captain blinked in acknowledgement and stood aside.  The door slid cleanly open, and they all crammed inside.  The general pressed the button for the third floor, and the elevator began its silent, hurried descent.
It was chillingly quiet in the shaft.  The party could not hear the battle they knew was raging around them.  Everyone held their heads low, still trying ot comprehend the hopeless situation.  The queen broke the stillness by whispering, “Why would anyone ever do this to our people?”  The king’s top advisor shook his head in despair.  
“I swear, by the name of our son, we shall one day have our revenge.” the king was now cold, stoic.  His concerned, kind face was now replaced with that of a man fighting an impossible enemy, knowing he was to die, and that his people would suffer unspeakable cruelties at the hands of wretched invaders.  The elevator slowed to a stop and the door glided open.  
The general was the first out, and his eyes betrayed the smallest amount of shock as he stared down the hallway at the ballroom.  Most of the palace guards had united there in a final defense.  They were scattered across the room, some behind cover, but most in the open, vulnerable to fire.  Upon seeing the general, a small group of the guards moved to defend the hall so the party could make it to safety.  The marauders had already forced their way to the glass doors just outside ballroom, and were slowly gaining ground, inch by inch.  As the king led his group across the hall, the general asked if he could stay behind to rally the guards.  In that instant, an explosion rocked the ballroom, and the defensive line fell.  The enemy troops swarmed in, slaughtering the guards without mercy.  “Go, now!” the king’s advisor pushed the group onward toward their objective.  The door was just across the hallway, but the seconds seemed like hours as each foot pounded the marble floor.  
The elevator door behind them opened and Robert stepped out, followed by his squad.  The queen paused to glance back at them, and in that instant, a bullet ripped through her shoulder, and she fell to the ground.  Edward, hearing the cry, turned and bent over his fallen wife.  She lay there, unmoving.  The king screamed in anger and rage.  He aimed his pistol at the fast-approaching soldiers and fired.  “Go!” he screamed at his aides and shoved his general at the barred door leading to Cairn’s Defense-Way.  He fired round after round into the wave of oncoming troopers, uncaring of his fate.  Finally, a bullet entered his leg, and he sunk onto his knees.  The Captain of the Guard tried to drag his king out of the fire, but he wouldn’t budge.  “Get to safety, NOW!” the man roared.
Before Robert could respond, however, his ruler was hit in the chest, then the neck.  He slid onto his side and groaned, before a final bullet struck him. The aide struggled to pull the king out of the open, but he could see it was too late.  He ducked under the tracers screaming past him, across the hall, and into Cairne’s, where the rest of the group was waiting for him.  
Before the door hissed closed, the part witnessed a horrible sight they would not soon forget.  Norton Erin, one of the country’s most trusted generals, stepped forward from the mass of enemy soldiers and strutted over to his king.  Edward shakily held his hand out for help, what little strength he had left quickly fading.  Instead of assisting, his face devoid of emotion, Erin aimed his pistol at the ruler’s head.  The king’s face twisted in a grimace of pain at the betrayal of someone he had trusted so much.  A hoarse rasp sounded from deep within his lungs.  Erin then pulled the trigger, and the king fell back onto the ground, lying motionless.
“ NO! YOU TRAITOROUS DOG!”  Andrew roared at the man and lifted his rifle toward him  Before he could fire, however, the heavy metal door just in front of him slid shut.  The code lock on the door shuffled random numbers, finally resting on a complex sequence.  No one would be entering or exiting from that way for some time.  Norton smiled wickedly and waved slowly at his enemy as Andrew stared out the door’s window, then paced back toward his troop of betrayers.  Andrew slammed his fist on the door, trying desperately to find a way out so he could avenge his king, but it was no use.  
“Stop pounding on the door,” Robert said as he put his hand on the general’s shoulder.  “There is nothing we can do now.” They were, for the moment, safe.  The chamber was quite dark, and one of the advisors searched the wall with his hand for a switch.  Soon, the room was engulfed in light, and everyone shielded their eyes, unused to the change in brightness.  The party saw that they were standing in a long corridor, numerous monitors lining the walls, showing camera views of the horror going on around them.  Despite the immense length of the hall, everything was sterile, and not a single spot of dust could be found.  Even the smell of disinfectant floated in the air.  Several doors could be seen on both sides of the hall, each labeled neatly.  
The Captain of the Guard, who had become the unofficial leader of the party, took his squad of soldiers to one room, “Armory” written above it in bright red lettering.  They soon emerged and passed weapons out to the people who didn’t have any.  Many of the wounded, including Robert, now had bandages wrapped around their injuries, and were feeling stronger from the medication they had just taken.  
The prime minister had already entered a small room just across the corridor.  The communications room he was in had all kinds of equipment stacked around in a seemingly haphazard manner, a strange variant to the neatness of the corridor.  After carefully glancing over the controls, he picked up a microphone and adjusted the knobs on a console in front of him.  He was about to turn the console on when Andrew spoke to him.
“These monsters haven’t just struck Barone.”  His voice was faltering, unable to believe his own words.  “Every city, every town, every farm, has fallen under the weight of these invaders.  We have lost...”  At that moment, Robert stepped into the crowded chamber.
“We should have kept better records of the palace grounds.  If we had remembered this defense-way, many more lives may have been saved.”  He looked at the two sternly, unwiling to give up hope.  “We pulled up some schematics on the computer in the corridor, and have discovered that Cairne’s has multiple bolt holes with enough supplies to last a year down here.  It won’t be necessary, hopefully, because the last door down the hall leads directly to our emergency tunnels, which haven’t likely been discovered by them yet, as I hadn’t even learned of their existence until only recently.  But if we move, it must be now.”
The general smiled weakly.  “You are right.  We musn’t give up all hope.   We will pull through this.  Our kingdom has always risen above its challenges, no matter how bleak things appeared.  Let’s go.”  He rose to leave, but the prime minister stopped them.
“Wait. I have to make a final announcement to the people.”  He flicked the power to the console on and began speaking.

Miles away, in a large park, there was almost no hint of the destruction occurring elsewhere.  Several ducks and geese floated lazily on the waters of a large pond at the center of the park.  Not a single person was in sight.  A statue of Auerilas, one of the nation’s ancient heroes, stared confidently up at the sky.  There was a small tool shed built next to the pond’s bridge, undisturbed by the park’s creatures.  This tranquil image, however, was shattered when a missile screamed overhead and struck a building in the distance, causing it to slowly collapse into a fiery heap.  A figure with a dark blue suit slowly held his head out of the shed and gazed carefully at his surroundings.  After a moment, he motioned another cloaked figure, this one much smaller than his counterpart, out into the sunlight.  They were alert, constantly glancing around for any possible threat.
“We’re safe, for now,” Jonathan told Charles as the two  stepped further into the park.  From the moment they had left the council room, the pair had been sprinting from corridor to corridor, making their way toward the closest bolt hole.  The palace, which had been built countless years before, was created in a period of deep turmoil.  The architects who had built the palace had these special tunnels constructed in case things changed for the worst.  The worst had happened that day, and the duo took full advantage of it, entering in a long combination of numbers and letters to open one of the multiple, heavy, iron doors that protected those routes of escape. Just as they had sealed the door once more, a deafening roar sounded from just outside, sending Charles sprawling to the floor.  From that moment, they ran, not slowing until they reached their destination, one they weren’t even sure of.  But they had escaped, and there they stood, in a small pocket of tranquility, surrounded by chaos
Charles  still breathing heavily, turned his cloaked head back towards the fiery remnants of the palace.  His legs collapsed under him, and he sunk to the grass, eyes locked on the ruins of his home.  At that moment, an enormous explosion sounded and one of the palace’s towers crumbled.  Fires were ablaze all throughout the immense network of buildings, and Charles knew there was no chance for anyone else to survive.  The memories of all of the hours he spent bored, listening to the seemingly endless discussion between his father and his cabinet, splintered, thrown aside by an outburst of all of the good, happy times he had spent there.  He had grown up in that palace, surrounded by loving people who had been with him through the good times, and the bad times.  He knew they would no longer be with him, and his stomach lurched.  He keeled over, fighting the vomit threatening to come up.  
“Charles, it’s okay.”  Jonathan kneeled down beside him.  Charles looked up, and for the first time in his life, saw compassion in his bodyguard’s eyes.  It was there and gone in an instant, and was replaced by the man’s normal emotionless, ice-cold stare.  “We’d best keep moving.  They will find us if we stay here long.”  The young boy nodded slowly and stood.  Jonathan glanced over the prince to make sure he was fit to travel, and the pair continued on, leaving the park behind.  They moved cautiously, enuring that no one was following them.
“Jonathan,” Charles turned to face the older man.  The tears were gone from his face, but the boy’s speech still broke in mournfulness.  “Where will we go?”
Staring ahead at their path, Jonathan said, “We’ll find somewhere we can stay without being detected.”  
Charles nodded, keeping his watering eyes on the ground. The silence was broken when the voice of the prime minister came over the public address system, with speakers scattered all over the city.  He looked up at the street lamp it was hanging from, almost expecting to see the middle-aged, already graying man standing under it, having somehow escaped the carnage of the palace.   All that was there, however, was a trash can, dented from years of resting there.  
“This is Prime Minister Mikalen speaking.  Today, even as of right now, a terrible blow is being dealt to our nation.  These invaders have struck without warning, and are ravaging our ctiies, countryside, and our capital. Our soldiers have fought bravely, but this is a battle we will not win.  I urge those of you who have not yet been struck by this enemy to flee.  It is a horrible thing to say, but there is no other option.”  The prime minister’s voice broke.  “The king and queen have both been slain, gunned down in their own palace.  Hundreds of soldiers have died, and thousands of everyday people lay unliving in the streets.  I pray that you all can escape from the clutches of this new threat to our people.  There is one thing we have that will hold us together-hope.  Keep your hopes and your spirits, and there will be a chance for our kingdom yet!  Get out of the country now!  This is Prime Minister Mikalen, signing off.”
Charles listened as the voice on the intercom abruptly faded away and turned to face his bodyguard, the man who had been watching over him for so long.  “What will happen to us now?”
Jonathan continued staring at the surroundings for a second before finally saying, “We will escape to safety, and, when the time is right, we will strike back with power the likes of which, this enemy has never seen, nor ever will again.”
The young prince could hardly believe the man’s words.  “How?” he stuttered. “How can we fight this army when our own has been crushed and the country is in pieces?”
Jonathan’s eyes closed to small slits and he whispered a single word: “Rebellion.”