A man garbed in reds and silvers came up with a long wooden box, followed by another who was adorned in blue and gold. One stepped towards the Tzar, while the other presented himself to Cadar. They bowed in unison, and opened the boxes.<br/><br/>Within both boxes, there were identical light weight, ornate, bronze swords. The Tzar took his, hand shaky from age. He knew his son would kill him that day, and also knew it was time. If that boy was right in the head, he would show no mercy.<br/><br/>Cadar took his sword confidently, spinning it a little to show off. The two men who had gone up there moved away, and a single horn was blown. Before even a moment could pass, the Tzar stumbled back, blood gushing from his throat. The old man had been slow, and had already been prepared for death. It had been quick, and simple.<br/><br/>Cadar picked up his father's sword, though not before cleaning his own on his shirt. He turned  to the crowd, smiling enthusiastically, and bowed. There was a slight twist to his smile that had been cruel, and mean. Even so, every Kyrshian in the square whooped and cheered.<br/><br/>They had a new Tzar. The components seemed to scowl collectively. All this meant was one more tyrant to step all over them.<br/><br/>Cadar cleared his throat, and the crowd went silent. "By this rite, I am now Tzar. Bow to me!"<br/><br/>Adia did not want to bow, but she knew she had to. So she did. It was disgusting, killing the elderly like that.<br/><br/>Cadar raised a hand. "That's enough. As you all know, it has been I who has run Kyrshia while my father was ill. Very little will change, though I have some things in mind for you all. This was a joint decision between my father and I. Now, we must give him a funeral..."<br/><br/>Picking up the frail old man, Tzar walked down the back of the platform, heading for the castle to bury his father.<br/><br/>Adia groaned. "That's certainly not a grave I will be paying any respect to." Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head.