Treachery dooms a kingdom, and the king and queen must fight to expose the truth. |
Part of the same book as "Ver's Struggle," but this tells some of the background story. It is another idea I have had for a prologue. It is still pretty rough, so please be gentle, though please also be honest. Prologue Ruanna shook with fear as she heard the sounds of steel upon steel coming from the lower levels of the castle. She and her husband had feared this day would come, though they had hoped against hope that they were wrong. Treachery had been afoot, betrayal had seemed imminent. A people who had once been their allies, who had once stood side by side with them in battle, now were running through the streets killing their people. She looked at her husband, who was still sitting on his throne. She could see the wear of the previous days’ events on him, the lack of sleep that came with being king during these tough times. He had foreseen this before she had, even with the arcane powers of insight that she possessed. “How many have we lost?” he asked Komer, the commander of the army, who was kneeling in front of him. “The main army has not returned from the mainland, and we cannot count on them to be here to relieve the siege. Our garrison numbers are few, and the enemy have us outnumbered nearly ten to one.” “Any reinforcements?” Komer shook his head no. The king hung his head in defeat. “Sire, what are your orders?” The king paused, clearly having difficulty. Ruanna went over to him and took his hand, sitting in her seat beside him. “Fetch my daughters,” he finally said without looking up. “No!” Ruanna exclaimed. He looked up at her, and she could see the measure of his resolve. “It is time,” he said. “We must act before it is too late.” Ruanna could not argue with the truth of his words. But that didn’t mean she was happy at what was about to happen. She wanted to talk him out of it, but no words would come. “By your leave, Your Majesty,” Komer said to her. She reluctantly nodded and he walked out of the chamber, also clearly troubled by this duty he must now perform. Outside she could hear the sounds of battle getting closer. She held her pendant in her hand, the royal pendant bearing the carved image of an eagle’s talon clutching the socketed peridot stone. She saw it begin to emit its bright green glow as she started to weep, the stone seeming to glow even brighter the more she wept. She wiped the tears from her eyes long enough to look over and see the ring on her husband’s hand glowing too, the large sapphire turning a bright blue, clearly highlighting the two eagle’s talons wrapped around his finger and both coming to rest on the gem in the center. The enchantment appeared to be working. “Your ring...” she said to him. “Yes, I have been aware of it,” he said. “Your pendant has been active longer than you know.” They both looked up as the door to the chamber opened once again, and there stood Komer with their two daughters. The king rose from his throne and walked to them, the commander kneeling as he did so. Their youngest daughter, Brienna, just stood there in stoic silence, her three year-old mind no doubt unable to comprehend what was happening. Jianna, their older daughter, rushed up to embrace her father. The king allowed this brief display of affection, but after a moment he gently pushed her away. “My children, we have little time,” he began. “The enemy will soon be upon us. I must get you to safety before it is too late.” “But father...” Jianna began. “Silence, Jianna,” Ruanna said. “Please let your father speak.” “There is a secret passage in my royal bed chamber,” the king began anew. “An attendant will be waiting there to take you away from here.” “We don’t want to leave you father!” said Brienna, a vocal outburst uncommon from her. “You must. If I go with you, they will never stop looking for us. I do not want anything to happen to you.” “My liege,” said Komer, “if you will permit me the honor, I will guard your children with my life.” “I thank you, Komer. Please see to it that they do not come to harm.” “I swear by my sword, sire.” Both daughters were visibly distraught now, tears streaming down their cheeks. The king turned to speak to them again. “I leave you with – ” he choked up mid-sentence, but fought to continue. “I need you to do one last thing for me.” He paused, taking the glowing ring off his finger and putting it in Jianna’s hand, his large hands softly closing her fingers around it. Ruanna rose from her throne and came over to stand next to him. “You must take this with you, and never let it fall into the hands of the Venar. Tell your children, so that our people will be avenged. The memory of this day must be preserved, so that future generations will know what happened here.” The sound of battle seemed to be coming from the hallway outside now. The few remaining chamber guards rushed forward to bar the door. “Our time together is at an end,” said the king, as Komer started to guide them toward the rear of the throne room. “Go now, children. Run with haste. Make for the lands of Kalen. They will protect you.” Shouts were coming from the corridor outside now. Ruanna put her hand on her husband’s shoulder as he turned to watch his daughters leave. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Komer will keep them safe.” “Let us pray that he does.” He turned to face her. “You must also go.” “I will not leave you,” Ruanna said. “I have been through everything else with you. I will not leave your side now.” “But your pendant...” Her hand moved to her chest, grasping the pendant once again, its bright green glow so bright now that it seemed to shine through her hand. “My pendant is useless to them without the ring. Only the ring has the memories.” “But if they know about the pendant, they will no doubt attempt to find the ring.” Now there were sounds of people pounding on the door. Only minutes separated them from their destiny with fate. “Very well,” Ruanna said. “I will hide the pendant. But I will be right back.” He gazed into her eyes. Her eyes had not been dry for what had seemed like ages, and now she could see his eyes begin to moisten as well. She put both of her hands on his face and kissed him tenderly, their tears mixing together and dripping on the floor. Their moment of passion was cut short when they both looked up at a loud crunch of splintering wood from the door. She looked back at him, her thumb stroking his cheek. “Don’t you go dying until I get back,” she said with a half-smirk. “No promises,” he said, smirking back at her. She ran toward the side exit of the throne room to the king’s garden, hearing the metallic sound of her husband drawing his sword. As she opened the door, she heard a loud crack from behind her, clearly the sound of the chamber door breaking. It was followed by footsteps, and she quickly shut the door behind her. She knew she should continue forward to find a hiding spot for the pendant, but her emotions and curiosity got the better of her. She turned back to peer through the small window of the door into the throne room. Enemy soldiers were pouring into the throne room, and the king’s bodyguards had moved to make a circle around him to protect him. Mani, the leader of the enemy troops, walked to the front of his forces, his reddish hair and swept-back ears clearly differentiating him from the troops standing immediately behind him. Ruanna also recognized quite a few of the soldiers on his side, people she had met during her trip to the capital after she had become engaged. They were Polanians, though after the events of today she wondered if they deserved to be called Polanians anymore. Mani stepped forward to approach the king, his body language exuding an aura of arrogance. “This land is ours now,” he said. “Put down your weapons and we may spare your lives.” “You and I both know that is a lie,” the king said. “You are a traitor, born of a family of traitors. We will fight you until none of us is left standing.” “As you wish,” Mani said. He turned to his troops. “Please grant the king’s last request.” The enemy troops let out a massive warcry, and converged upon the king and his bodyguards. They numbered so many that they completely enveloped the small circle of people in the center of the room. Right before he disappeared, the king looked over toward the door she had exited, and appeared to make eye contact with her. Then he raised his sword as enemies surrounded him. She couldn’t make out much of what happened next, but saw soldier after soldier fall, both enemy and ally. After several excruciatingly long minutes, the fighting suddenly stopped, and she could see her husband on his knees, clutching a sword embedded in his chest as blood leaked between his fingers. "We...we will..." the king said, fighting through gasps of air to speak. Mani stepped forward and grabbed the sword, twisting it in the wound. The king did not cry out, but the look on his face betrayed to Ruanna the incredible surge of pain he just felt. She wanted more than anything to be by his side now, but she could not peel herself away from the door. "You need to speak up so we can understand you," Mani said, putting his ear to the king's face, taunting him to speak louder although he could not. “We...will not...forget...” the king finally forced out, and collapsed onto the floor. "Hmmph. Was that all?" Mani said, looking down on the king with contempt. "What a disappointment." He spat on the king's body. Ruanna's blood began to boil, and she went to yank the door open. Her heart felt like it had just been ripped out of her chest and sliced in two. This bastard would feel the incinerating wrath of her fire magic if it was the last thing she ever did. She would not let him get away with this foul deed! But then she remembered her promise to her love, knowing that she must hide the pendant. With all of her effort, she forced herself from the door and into the garden, where she desperately looked for a place to bury the pendant. Sweat and salty tears burned her eyes, making it difficult for her to see clearly. With a swipe of her arm she wiped away the tears, but more quickly replaced them. In front of her, she saw her husband’s journal, the royal journal that had been passed down through generations of hereditary rule. In a brief second of rational thought, she grabbed up the book, knowing that it also contained information about what had happened, information that would surely be destroyed if found. She ran from the throne room until she reached the king’s tree overlooking the sea below, where her legs collapsed under her. She tried to get up, but was shaking so much from her anger and sadness that she couldn’t get back to her feet. This is probably as good of a spot as any, she finally thought, and started to dig a hole with her hands at the base of the tree. It was hard dirt, so she pulled out her royal dagger to assist in the digging process. Before she buried them, however, she took out the pen accompanying the book to write one last entry. It would have to be short, but she had to make one final entry while there was still time. She opened it and turned to the last page. She wrote about her children being safe, along with the ring. As she wrote about the king being killed, her tears started dripping on the paper, smearing the ink in places. The pendant glowed so bright now that it was hot to the touch, and it was even slightly burning her clothes, but she didn’t care. Suddenly, from the other side of the tree she heard the throne room door opening, and voices. She shut the book and set it in the hole. This is it, she thought. Her left hand gripped the pendant, and she could feel the heat it was giving off burning her flesh. Her right hand picked up the dagger laying on the ground beside her. Her lover was dead, her kingdom was destroyed, and she had nothing left to live for. Moreover, she knew that the enemy would likely kill her if they found her, just like they had her husband. She would not allow them that pleasure. She took off the pendant, which immediately started to fade as soon as it was no longer in contact with her neck. She laid it in the hole on top of the book, and then covered both of them with dirt. She then picked up the dagger and held it up with both hands, its blade pointed at her left breast. “Goodbye, my love,” she said, and plunged the dagger into her heart. |