Complete Novella Available on Amazon
Episode one
“Great job today, everyone. We’ll pick up tomorrow.”
Kyle gave the stage manager a nod and wiped the sweat from his brow. It had been the same routine every day for years. Wake up. Work out. Receive the day’s script. Review past plot points, the reports from the two Kings, and ongoing tactics and storylines. Acting was always the hardest part, but Kyle had grown into his role.
He hadn’t fought in the original war. Only a few of the blooded soldiers remained, most having been written off at some point or another. Some had taken jobs around the massive set or had gone to work as spies inside the two castles. The others had disappeared, seeking the quiet life of retirement. The original purpose of the war had vanished with them. Of course, no one had told the two Kings the truth of the war. That was the only rule.
“You look tired, superstar,” Miranda said as Kyle took his seat.
Kyle smiled weakly, running a hand through his blood-flaked hair. It was fake blood of course. When he had first been cast, the hair had been fake as well.
“Why do you always worry so much?” she asked, wiping the makeup from his face. “The two Kings believe every word of the reports. You and Octavian are their favorites.”
Kyle glanced to the other side of the sizable makeup tent. As always, Octavian was bloviating, his artificial squad laughing at his every word. Octavian was one of the original soldiers. As he often advertised, he had witnessed the Surrender, the day the real war had ended, first hand.
Everyone loved Octavian.
“I think it’s a mistake,” Kyle said as Miranda adjusted his hair. The makeup artist had been with him from the beginning, from his rise as a common foot soldier to one of the elite. If there was anyone he could talk to, it was her. “This could ruin everything.”
“You’re not really being captured,” Miranda sighed. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“The Writer has never done something like this before. The two Kings crave death on the battlefield. Why the sudden change in tactics?”
“The show has been at a standstill for four seasons. Both King George and King Ender have demanded to see progress. You know the rule, we have to keep them believing – no matter what. Just think how many lives you have saved by playing King George’s Commander. A few days off site won’t hurt. It’s not like you haven’t performed in front of a King before.”
She spun Kyle around, permitting his reflection to fill the tall mirror. Years of training and work under the unforgiving sun had turned his body into that of a god. Thick black hair hung to his broad shoulders, curling artfully at the ends. His skin was smooth and tanned, hardened from hundreds of simulated battles. Sometimes, he hardly recognized himself.
“What of George’s retaliation?” Kyle questioned. “Losing me will cause him to do something extreme, something unpredictable. Frederick isn’t ready to handle my role as Commander. What if the King stops by for one of his random inspections? What if he wants to fight again?”
“It’s only temporary,” she assured him. “Remember, this is all leading to your dramatic duel with Octavian. When you finally kill him off during your escape, the show will be safe for another few months while Ender works out his next move.”
Kyle sighed. She couldn’t see it. Eventually, this whole operation was going to fail. The real war would start up again. It was simply a matter of when.
As Miranda applied fresh makeup to ensure his impending capture was convincing, Kyle studied Octavian in the distance. The other Commander sensed his stare and flashed him a flawless smile, teeth stained red from the nearby fruit platter.
Always so perfect, Kyle thought, suppressing a frown.
Why couldn’t the others see the truth? Octavian wasn’t going to let himself get written off the show. He loved the money, the women, and the fame. This kidnapping plotline was a sham.
Octavian had been saved from death’s door a dozen times already, often surviving through miraculous circumstances. It was almost as if he was personally protected by the gods, as if he had been writing the show the entire time.
Kyle couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that once he left the main set of the war, he would never return, despite the script. He was certain that Octavian had somehow convinced the Writer to reverse the outcome of their duel, that the other man would narrowly avoid death. Again.
If only there were some sort of evidence … but there was nothing. Octavian was a professional, the biggest star on set, the only one who could influence the Writer. Kyle couldn’t risk speaking to the Writer directly. It was far too dangerous.
“You look lovely,” Miranda said with a smile, touching up Kyle’s black eye. “I guess I won’t be seeing you again for a few days.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Say hi to the King for me, superstar!”
A moment later, Kyle was shuffled off the main set and onto the stinking field that housed the show’s countless horses and battle equipment. He voiced his thanks to the assistants as they set down a movable set of wooden stairs in front of the rusty prisoner wagon.
Kyle stood on the top step for a long moment, looking back on the set in thought.
His scripted escape and the subsequent slaying of Octavian would put King George in position to win the war. Of course, a short time later, the Writer would reveal how King Ender would get back to even ground.
That had always been the way of the show. One of the Kings would temporarily gain the advantage only to be quickly thereafter outmatched by the other. The show’s plot was endless, a delicate balancing act written to ensure neither side ever prevailed.
As the war aged, so did the complexity of its storylines. Kyle’s imprisonment was the most extreme yet. He wagered he would live to see even wilder stunts as the show marched on … if everything went according to plan.
Better safe than sorry.
Taking a deep breath, Kyle retrieved a small knife from the barrel next to the wagon and stashed it within the pocket of his ruined Commander’s coat. Octavian wouldn’t let himself be killed off. Kyle had never been surer of anything in his life.
He sat patiently as a group of soldiers arrived and convincingly bound his wrists and ankles. The opposing Commander sauntered over to the wagon fifteen minutes later, two of the goddesses introduced in the previous season hanging on his every word. He dismissed them with a wave and a smile, and the two soldiers rode off into the night to thunderous applause.
Octavian waited until several miles had passed before speaking. “It’s been a long journey for both us,” he said, blue eyes gleaming in the torchlight. “However, my ascent has only just begun.”
episode two
Kyle frowned as Octavian drove on in the moonlight. He hadn’t thought the opposing Commander would reveal his plot so quickly.
This must only be a part of it.
Octavian was manipulating him, just as he had done to countless others. The long-standing Commander was determined to remain on the show no matter the consequences.
Not this time. The Writer has spoken. Octavian will die at my hand!
Kyle had traveled the path to King Ender’s castle only once before, as a lesser officer in the failed assault two seasons before. It had been the closest King George had ever come to victory, advancing deep into enemy territory after unveiling a brilliant new battle tactic. Octavian had led a valiant midnight charge from King Ender’s castle which had caught King George’s troops by surprise.
It had been one of the most extensive battles in the history of the show, leaving hundreds dead on both sides. Assistants had been forced to feed massive burial pyres for a week to maintain the illusion of the war. Sometimes, Kyle still wondered what fuel they had used to keep them going. Miranda had advised him not to question it.
“Your ascent? What do you mean?” Kyle asked after a moment.
Octavian produced a stack of paper from inside his satchel and waved it mockingly in front of the bars of Kyle’s mobile prison. “There’s been a change to the script.”
Of course. I’ll bet I’m the one who has to die now.
“No one told me.” Kyle kept his voice level. Once, his tone would have betrayed his inner turmoil, but with his extensive acting experience, he could conceal his true emotions. Until he understood the other man’s plan, it would be best to play along.
“That’s because the Writer can’t afford to let everyone know the truth,” Octavian explained as the path began to wind into the mountains. “I didn’t even believe it myself at first.”
Kyle eyed Octavian skeptically. “The truth?”
“We’ve entered the final season of the show. This storyline will end the war once and for all. Obviously, I’d let you see the script if I could, but you’ll have to believe my word for now.”
Kyle was thankful for the darkness to hide his shocked expression. The end of the show? Did Octavian honestly expect him to believe that?
“Explain yourself.”
“I’m sure you noticed that this storyline is out of the ordinary.” Octavian paused. There was a spark of flame followed by the smell of tobacco smoke before he continued on. “We’ve only come to this point because King Ender has forced the hand of the Writer. Truthfully, it was only a matter of time before one of the Kings grew tired of the endless war.
“You see, King Ender ordered me to push on after our latest victory, no matter the cost. Even after I told him King George had sent reinforcements and held the advantageous ground, he wouldn’t change his mind. This imprisonment storyline was the Writer’s solution to temporarily placate him. It was only in rewrites that they realized the real opportunity at hand.”
“Your … ascent, I’m guessing?”
“Exactly. The Writer has decided to kill off King Ender and install me in his place.”
Kyle’s jaw dropped. It was worse than he had thought. Octavian hadn’t just talked the Writer into allowing him to survive their looming battle, he had somehow convinced them to make him the King. It was a storyline that would never work…
This isn’t coming from the Writer, Kyle realized. This is all Octavian. He’s gone completely off the rails. I can’t let him succeed.
Kyle had always believed the show would eventually run its course, but he would not let Octavian end it prematurely. He would not let the selfish man restart the war just because he couldn’t stand to have his character written off!
Kyle took a calming breath. He needed to hear the new script to understand how he could save the show. “What do I have to do?”
Octavian hesitated. “You … actually believe me?”
“Of course,” Kyle replied, “I know you speak with the Writer. That’s the only way you could have survived this long, right? It makes sense that they would want this twist to remain a surprise. It will change everything.”
“Exactly,” Octavian said, once again the pinnacle of confidence. A lesser actor wouldn’t have noticed the slight hesitation.
“So, what do I need to do?”
“The beginning of the scene is unchanged,” Octavian explained. “You’ll still be imprisoned, and you’ll still be freed by one of King George’s spies within the castle. Only now, instead of trying to escape, you will confront King Ender…”
As Octavian explained his self-created rise to power, Kyle rested his bound hands atop the knife he had taken from the main set. He would not let Octavian end the show and restart the war. It was his duty to maintain the peace for as long as possible.
If that meant actually killing Octavian, then so be it.
EPISODE THREE
“Hold still, Commander.”
Kyle cursed under his breath as the unfamiliar assistant continued to apply his makeup. The chair beneath him was equally unfamiliar and leaned slightly to the right. Miranda would have made sure he had a properly balanced chair. After all, his cell was only supposed to look like a cell.
More pressingly, Kyle had been imprisoned for nearly two days. It was almost time for his initial confrontation with King Ender. Octavian had certainly had plenty of opportunities to stop by the prison set and show him the revised script. Unsurprisingly, he had yet to appear. Kyle knew that he never would.
Because the script is a fake. Because no one else can know of its existence!
Bringing the script to the set had the potential to ruin Octavian’s scheme. The producers and their assistants would never ask to read it, but they would speculate that there had been rewrites. That would lead to gossip. It was obvious that Octavian couldn’t afford for anyone to see them together. That Octavian had done this sort of thing countless times already. That Octavian knew exactly what he was doing.
He’s going to put the blame on me, Kyle concluded, turning as the assistant began to add a new assortment of bruises to his face. He’s going to force the Writer to go along with his new storyline to avoid catastrophe.
“Commander Kyle?”
Kyle blinked. Had the woman been talking the entire time?
“I need you to lie down on the floor so I can add the marks from your lashings. Remember, you have been tortured this entire time,” she said with a smile.
“Of course,” Kyle replied smoothly, standing up. “I was just going over the lines in my head.”
He waited for a second assistant to lay a blanket across the grimy stone floor before stretching flat on his chest. Another man placed a plate of smoked meat and vegetables within reach. A third added a copy of the actual script for a last-minute review.
As he feasted, Kyle flipped through the upcoming scenes. On the main set, the producers distributed a fresh copy every day. There were always subtle tweaks and potential rewordings based on the reports of the two Kings the night before.
On this copy, nothing was different. Not a single word.
What if…
“Is this the most recent version?” Kyle asked. He was careful to keep his voice warm and unassuming. It was possible that Octavian had planted a spy on the prison set, that there were others committed to his cause. In fact, it was very likely. Everyone loved Octavian after all.
“As of a few days ago,” she replied. “We aren’t given daily updates like on the main set. The producers feel it’s too dangerous.”
Her response wasn’t surprising. Octavian knew the inner workings of King Ender’s castle. He had been stationed there at the start of the actual war. That’s why the old King trusted him so much. That’s why–
Kyle stopped cold. No. That can’t be it.
But it made sense. Octavian’s ascent wouldn’t stop upon taking King Ender’s place. His reign would be short-lived if the show was truly ending. No. Octavian wanted to become an actual king. Octavian wasn’t thinking about simply ending the war – he was thinking about winningit.
Kyle glanced to where he had hidden the knife under the pile of straw that served as his bed. His plush cot had been temporarily removed in preparation of his meeting with King Ender. On any other occasion, he would have thought the transformation of his cell remarkable. Now, all he could think of was how to stop the rogue Commander before it was too late.
There was a knock on the iron bars. “Wrap it up. The King is on his way.”
The assistant instructed Kyle to stand and examined him closely as the others removed the blanket and decorated the stone floor with drops of fresh blood.
“How do I look?” Kyle asked, giving her his best smile. Miranda would have made sure to bring him a mirror. It was always easier when he knew where his injuries were.
“You look great, Commander,” she replied. “I can’t wait to see you in action!”
While the assistants scurried toward the exit, Kyle took several calming breaths to get himself into character. Then, he sat in the bloody straw and placed his head between his knees. He wouldn’t get a chance to stop Octavian until later that night, but the feeling of the knife’s hilt against his thigh was reassuring nonetheless.
A few moments later, the heavy door to the dungeon was thrown open. Wearily, Kyle raised his eyes, careful to keep the left only half-open.
He had performed for King George a hundred times before but never for King Ender. The other King was a few years younger than George but clearly well into his later years. His long black hair was streaked with gray. He wore a thick beard that hung past the lavish collar of his regal red robes and smelled heavily of wine.
Kyle nearly broke character when he saw Octavian standing behind the King. The Commander had put on his best uniform complete with Ender’s sigil, his handsome face freshly shaven and his thick blond hair tied behind his neck.
Octavian subtly winked at Kyle as their eyes met.
With actual disdain, Kyle glared at his counterpart. Octavian wasn’t supposed to be in the scene, but there he stood. He’s here to make sure I play my part.
“So,” King Ender began. “We meet at last, Commander Kyle.”
Kyle spat at the King’s feet in defiance. “I have nothing to say to you.”
The old King grinned, obviously pleased. “Your reputation as a loyal soldier proceeds you. I went to sleep the past two nights comforted by the sound of your screams. Sadly, I am informed that you have revealed nothing.”
As planned, Kyle tried to stand but purposefully stumbled on the bloody stone floor and fell back to the ground.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to speak to old George on my behalf?” King Ender asked after his laughter subsided. “With your help, I can finally win this war, and this land can finally be at peace.”
“I’ll never betray my King!” Kyle growled.
King Ender placed a wrinkled hand on the Octavian’s shoulder. “Then, the only use I have for you is as a symbol. Your public execution will force George to retaliate. He will act recklessly to avenge his Commander, and I will at last be able to destroy him.”
“When shall I schedule the execution, my King?” Octavian asked.
“Sunrise. I want you to handle it personally.”
Ever the professional, Octavian nodded. “Your will be done.” The Commander bowed deeply and motioned the King back toward the door. “Remember to stick to the script tonight,” he mouthed to Kyle. “Keep up the good work.”