Chapter 55: Ruthless
The people in Scyl started getting more and more restless as months ticked by behind the huge walls that boxed in their village. What used to be a lively community had turned gloomy and frustrated. The King’s orders had cut the village off from the outside world, and most families couldn’t make a living anymore. Quiet complaints spread around like sparks, threatening to light up into full-blown rebellion.
Dads, husbands, and sons who had been working outside the village before the walls came up were heartbroken when they tried to come home. At the gates, desperate to see their families, they were stopped cold by the guards, who blocked their way with sharp spears.
"You can’t come in," one guard said firmly, though the unease on his face showed he wasn’t happy about it.
The men begged, their voices full of emotion. "We’re from Scyl! Our families are in there! You can’t just lock us out!"
Even though the guards looked like they wanted to help, they stuck to their orders. "The king made it clear," one explained. "No one who’s been outside the walls can come back in. It’s to keep the village safe."
The workers were devastated. Their cries rang out, bouncing off the cold walls, and people inside the village heard them. Wives and kids rushed to the gates, shouting their loved ones’ names, their voices breaking with tears. But the guards stayed strong, following orders despite their personal feelings.
Inside, the village was boiling over with anger. Families being split apart only made people more furious about King Ivar’s rule. In every corner of the village, complaints grew louder. People doubted the king’s reasoning, his fear of outsiders, and his cold-hearted decisions.
Those walls, meant to protect Scyl, had turned into a prison, dividing the king from his people. But King Ivar stayed holed up in his castle, sure he was doing what was best for the kingdom.
The scene at the gates was heartbreaking as the workers kept begging the guards, their voices thick with desperation. "Please," one pleaded, his eyes full of pain. "Our families are in there—our wives, our kids! We’ve been gone for ages. We just want to go home!"
Another man stepped forward, fists clenched. "You can’t lock us out! This is our home. We’ve lived here all our lives!"
The guards, looking more uncomfortable by the second, still didn’t budge. One motioned for the men to back off. "King Ivar ordered this," he said firmly. "No one gets into Scyl unless he approves. You have to leave."
Those words hit the workers hard. Their protests got louder, their voices cracking with emotion. "Leave?" one of them shouted, his voice breaking. "Where are we supposed to go? There’s nothing for us out there! Our lives are here!"