Austin had tried his hardest, that he knew without a shadow of a doubt. The life of a ruler was plagued with difficult choices. But worst of all were the realities no one knew.

"A shadow comes to swallow your kingdom. Before your reign has ended you shall see your home in flames."

So said the teller. Austin knew what must be done.

The safety of his people was paramount, they looked to him for safety and guidance. He would be no ruler if he let the coming darkness threaten his people.

And so he made his preparations. He couldn't explain why, but he increased the taxation of his people. He explained it was for their safety, to fend of crime and dangers outside their borders. The people grumbled and complained, they called his selfish. Austin ignored it, how could they even begin to understand the choice he had to make for his kingdom, THEIR kingdom.

"My lord, the people are, overall, disapproving of you taxation. I strongly recommend easing the amount, some of your subjects are... struggling." Austins steward was concerned for the people and for Austin.

"Worry not. There is a plan, and I shall see to it those people will be given paid work." Something in Austins words did not put the steward at ease, not for either of his worries.

That was when the mines were opened. Those who struggled worked the mines. To begin with the offer of work was a welcome change, but the demands were heavy and unrelenting. Whilst being reminded that their work was for the betterment of the empire, they were pushed to breaking point.

The mood of the people changed. There was unrest on the streets. The words 'tyrant' and 'slaver' were whispered in the dark. This was how it would begin then. Their enemy would destroy them from inside. It was not long before the mines were filled with those charged with treason.

"My Lord, I urge you to reconsider. The people are displeased as it is. I don't need to tell you what they call you."

"Enough."

"The Tyrant King."

"ENOUGH. You are just like them, you cannot understand that I do what I do for THEIR PROTECTION, FOR YOUR PROTECTION." Austin turned his back on the steward. "Leave me, your services are no longer required in these halls."

The same day, Austin personally announced his conscription plan. He would have an army ready and waiting, armed and trained. They would be ruthless, for they would fight with the fury of those eager to protect their home.

Austin was right. When the people turned on him, they rose up, armed and trained, fighting with the fury of those eager to protect their homes.

His every choice had been made for them, but he had been blinded by the fires he feared would engulf his city. Now he stood looking across the burning city, knowing who he was. The Tyrant King. The Coming Shadow.

In the public eye, mother was fine. She shared her stories with her adoring public, laughing at the tropes that she just couldn't resist. But that wasn't her.

Behind closed doors she was paranoid, convinced someone was following her. I was so glad to be away from her when I finally moved out, now that moment floods me with gilt.

Page after page I flicked through her stories, again and again. Somewhere there had to be a hint. She used to talk about how she took inspiration from the real world for her stories.

I tap at the window made me freeze. Slowly I turned, only to see a branch rocking in the stormy winds. I sighed, not aware of how tense I was. Whoever had interest in my mother had no reason to show interest in me.

I returned my attention to the books strewn across the table in front of me. Pages picked at random, pages chosen from wedding dates and birthdays. I don't know what she could possibly hide in her writing but somehow, I knew there had to be something.

My eyes past over a paragraph from her latest book, a description of the first victims kitchen. Square table with four chairs, the black counter tops, the sink looking out the window into the garden. I slowly looked around at the room from the book.

I grabbed the book and read carefully. The rest of the house was different but the kitchen was what mattered, that was where the sighting was. I read as the first victim stood doing her dishes and glimpsed a figure in the garden.

Was this it? Wad this her clue? I grabbed another book. Another room. I took the book in mothers bedroom. The colours were wrong but the layout undeniable. And just as I feared, another sighting.

I prayed my eyes were playing tricks on me as I glanced out the window. It was just a shadow in the storm, a shadow in the corner of my eye. It had to be, I told myself this again, trying desperately to make it true.

I needed another book, another clue. The living room this time. Mother refused to come in here in her last few months. She insisted it was too open.

I agreed.

I stood in the doorway, looking across the room at the undeniable figure at the window. My heart wanted to leap from my chest, I wanted to turn and run yet my legs wouldn't move. I was living one of my mothers books, and I knew how those ended for the victims in this house.

I realised then, mother was right to be so paranoid.