Prologue
The dense fog covered the dark forest, hoof beats could be heard. A small lantern flashed the dark trees every now and again.
The fog had never been this close to the city. The rider gripped the reigns tightly. Legend said that what lied in the fog was dark nymphs, known for stealing the women of villages, and sacrificing the men to their gods.
Not many wandered into the fog when it appeared, but this time it came close to the large capital city Valnome, of the country of Astermia.
What lied on the other side of the fog was an unknown mystery. The stories told us of a world full of death and chaos. But that was all we knew, the dark forest was the only way in or out of the city.
It was no wonder every time the fog rolled in families would disappear into the forest when travelling. The horse and rider made their way slowly down the dark path.
The rider clenched something in his hand. A small book it seemed. The crest on their cloak was the symbol of the Royal family, he was a messenger. Footsteps echoed around deep in the forest.
The rider gripped the book closer, a small red jewel flashed in the light. He looked around, holding the light out. Dark eyes flashed in the tree above him, then they were gone.
The trees were alive with creatures, moving around the path. A tree branch fell behind him, he spun around. It was a trap.
He turned back around to a man standing in the path in front of him. Dark eyes starred him down, he pulled out his sword. The man walked forward, his hand moving along his side.
A branch flew from the tree and pinned the rider to the ground. His sword flew to the side, the book landed at the feet of the attacker.
The rider was approached by the attacker. The attacker reached his hand out and ran it along the riders face.
He then removed his hood to see bright blonde hair, his blue eyes were full of tears. The crest on his cloak was also on a necklace around his neck.
“You are imperfect, Prince. You will please the king.” The attacker whispered into his ears.
“Please, my father will send armies. I wont go quietly.” The prince cried, struggling to get out from under the branch.
His attacker picked up the book, it was untitled, like a journal. “Please that’s my mothers!” The prince cried as the attacker opened the book.
His eyes grew wide, “Your mother?” He cried, he slipped the book into his pocket and blew green dust in the prince's face.
The attacker slowly removed the branch as the prince went to sleep. “You will be our king.” His attacker whispered, picking him up over his shoulder.
