Centuries ago
He stood in the middle of the room,petrified,in his hand he held an already used match stick,which he swore he never stroke.But if he didn't then who can explain the cause of fire which filled in the palace
The fragrant smell of the royal paint,gone,along with the gold carvings and statues which were all turned to pure ashes
His body froze,not being able to move he could only witness his home crumbling down to ashes,the cries of his parents,the king and queen could be heard echoing through the room
He watched as they burned,their body quickly fleetimg away along with their cries,he tried to close his eyes but he couldn't,he stood there still frozen as he heard his brother's last sniffles until there was none left
Then came the whispers and echoes which had been tormenting him for decades
You will return
The echoes said swirling along with the smoke
It will call for you,and you'll obey it,but you're not ready yet
It added this time louder in his mind ,he had to run away from everything,but death wasn't an option,even if he wanted to die he couldn't,that was his fate
The smoke chocked him,but the fire didn't burn him,this wasn't a blessing it was pure curse
The guards came running ready to secure the murderer,but all they got were piles of ashes,no bodies,not even a soul could be traced.They looked at each other I disbelief everything was burnt,ni life could avoid death in this situation.
But one thing stood standing totally unscraped,The throne of cinders
