Chapter 1
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Introduction
~ Thriller - Adventure - Romance - Mystery - Self worth ~
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Permanent like that name that engraves into the stone. A structure that holds year old tales and prophecies. A place to be prideful for and accepted, a family line of hope and cherishable futures. A life meant to be. A life.
The first thing that comes to ones’ mind, when heard of the word, “fate”.. You think of a hopeful destiny.. Beauty cherished, life to expect. Hope. As you know, not all destinies end with joy.
A royal family built and strived many years ago. A new kingdom of ruin, a life of terror to those who are low of standard. The first born of Philip and Erania Corbet, the king and queen of the terror lands. This new found young prince was to be named, Archey Corbet.
As a young child, he would often watch alongside his dear mother. Observing as others trained and fought. Watching the birds fly by through the thick brush of trees. Out into an open field where the sun rose above the open sea. The young boy never saw much beyond the walls he grew up in. sheltered, alone. Isolation was his only companion. No children of his age were generally allowed to even be a few feet away; nonetheless even in the same area as the young prince. His low twinkle of curiosity shined from his small, dull emerald eyes. Gazing over the wall that surrounded the palace; all from a balcony. The sight of the docks along the ocean's seam, bustled with many crowds. It was the young prince’s birthday. Near the dock held a line of thick forest that surrounded a great field. Green and open, flowers spread abroad.
“Dear Archey.. You are no longer allowed to enter this room. You know this child..”
A pleasant yet gentle tone echoes from the room that is connected to that balcony.
“But, mother.. I wish to see those who walk in the village below. Might I once?”
His tiny voice echoed back as he dismounted from the stone balcony railing. The sound of tiny feet tampering along the marble flooring replicates. Running up to his dearly beloved mother with open arms, though with a straight face. The embrace wasn’t long, though southing. Southing of the aching mind that held tight on the idea to travel.
“We may not. We are no longer allowed down among the people my child..”
The response has the young one thinking. His mind of brilliance and curiosity was of no other.
Fate was the key to all, so he’s often heard. Told as young as he could be to listen, his fate was to be king.
Though, how could such a person so young and isolated, possibly find the courage to rule over a broken world. How could it be fix it all..
Heres where our story begins..
20 years further on-
This young prince stands before the open window of his chamber room. The birds chirp out like a song of many. His gaze slick over the hills of the field. The wind blows like a natural fierce of fresh beauty.
“These infuriating feather holders..”
The book which once was resting in his hand, falls onto the desk table. Slamming louding at the surface, frightening a flock of birds off. Frustrating it must be, so cold and solitary. Disappointing to others, yes. Though no one had ever gotten his motives before. Understood his outlook.. Cherish his mind. Those are the thoughts that shelter themselves away from the world. Questions left unanswered. Questions that may never be answered. What is it that destiny had instored for this young prince? Some may question the reason for this, glim story. I may tell you only the minimal of answers, perhaps you could figure out this mystery yourself.
“What’s on your mind, young prince.”
The fellow guard walks into the dim lit room, a shaggy old man but quite vibrant with a bright smile. One of the best fighters in whom has remained a smile for so many rough years.
“Nothing quite amusing sir Nizlo.”
The wind echoed off the glass panels which held open, drifting them against the bookshelf nearby. Thump thump thump. The glass of the windows shake with the sway.
“You seem distressed.. Prince Archey.”
The elder man who went by, Sir Nizlo, glanced at the prince’s side portrait. His brow furrows with genuine concern. The smile still vibrant even through his worry, as if not even a storm could affect the joy that beholds on his outer core. Flower petals flew in from the wind's strong and fierce push. “Primula Belarina petals..” Archey reached out along the desk to pick up the lovely white delicate Primula Belarina petals. A touch grazing upon ever so gently. Emerald eyes filled with fascination. The beauty of this flower captivated him in a unique way. As if it were addictive, the curiosity pulled his mind away from which he were so worried about beforehand.
“What a lovely flower..” Sir Nizlo comments upon the sight of the princes’ focused look.
“Indeed it is..” his voice was accusentent towards the flower petals before him. With a tight grasp at the petal in hand, a gust of wind blew through the chambers once again. Brushing the remaining flower petals up and out with the chilled winded breeze.
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Liv
