He was related to the king of Amres, the emperor of everything anyone saw around them.
That king of Amres had six sons. Ravenis was the fourth son of the fifth son of that king.
That king died.
Ravenis wasn't special back then. He sure ain't special now.
I know much about him, as I am him.
I am Ravenis, the insignificant grandson of a man who was king in the past.
And I just saw a woman who might possibly be my love, my life, and the one who could (and will, given my behaviour in the past) kill me.
Let us start with my application to the Castle. That would be an appropriate start to my epic story. Maybe not so epic, but it may start with how bad I was. Reflecting on the future of this story, it is preferable if I refer to myself in the third person. That would involve me referring to myself as he, him et. al. This may generate an impartial tone to my voice, and may remove the bias.
Or maybe not, but I am trying it anyway.
"You're a disgrace."
The man outside the grand castle in the middle of the sea judged me through the variety of crystals his head bore.
"But I know magic."
"You're still a disgrace."
"See this." I stretched my hands, and whispered the words old man Uress usually told me to tell. "Ollere Aware." Druidic magic required a cold heart. You had to stretch your hands to do that.
"Nothing happened, Ravenis Fervallis. You're still-"
"A disgrace?" I asked. the magic had started, though, and the vines draping the trees near the entrance to the Castle had grown. They reached my hand, as did the grass which had grown up, touching my knees.
"Yeah." The man frowned. You know magic, Fervallis. But we can't risk going against the throne. Your cousin rules, and you know what your father did."
"My cousin is the king! Why can't I get in to learn?"
"Your father lost you a chance, Fervallis. Go back and try Sliver. That school has a much lesser standard to uphold."
The Sliver school was a poor substitute for Castle. Castle had extremely skilled magicians, while Sliver had a council of druids who didn't know the difference between their feet and their beards.
Before you judge the man outside the gates of Castle, you have to have an introduction to how bad the mistake my father had done.
It basically went like this:
My father, Carve Fervallis: I challenge the throne, Ulver.
Ulver, my uncle, a cool guy: You have anyone to support your claim?
Carve, being a stuck up idiot: My son is by my side, Ulver.
Me: (sounds that a baby makes)
Ulver, angered: Father gave me the throne, and you a seigneurship. You have the small villages outside Vale already. Do you want the Vale in its entirety?
My father, being the same idiot he was in his previous dialogue: I want Amres and the entire continent. Vale to Featherhill, Mandale to Cernhelm.
(He mentioned the Western, Eastern, Southern and Northern borders of Cea, for the uninitiated.)
Ulver, now visibly angered: Father raised us all to be kings, Carve. He gave this continent for me to rule, but in reality, your cooperation helps me.
(He said more good things like this, I heard, from the impartial source of my mother. She was in the court that day, and obviously was irritated at my father asking this without the respect the king demanded.)
Ulver, trying to negotiate: You will be exiled, brother, if you continue to do this. This is madness. All of Vale will be yours if you stop this here.
My father, seeing a good bargain: I'll take it.
Three years later, my father, ungrateful to Uncle Ulver, started a war. Naturally, all my other uncles gathered under Ulver and defeated my father, who was then branded a traitor. He was allowed to retain Vale till he died, though, but what my uncles had not thought of, was me.
Ravenis Fervallis, grandson, nephew, and cousin (once removed) to kings, am now without any useful property except magic.
Without a way to learn it, however, I will be useless, like my father.
And I must actually thank the man at the gates, for without him sending me away from Castle, I wouldn't have met her.
By her, I mean the girl I mentioned earlier, the love of my life, by which sentence, I shall fall back to the territory of cliches.