Late afternoon in the Fire Kingdom throne room filled with a warm golden glow. King Aiden, sat upon his elaborate throne, his mind consumed by weighty thoughts. The air was thick with anticipation as one of his trusted advisors approached, bowing respectfully.
“My king, you summoned me,” the advisor spoke, his voice filled with deference.
King Aiden glanced up, his piercing eyes meeting the advisor's gaze. “Yes, I require your assistance with a matter of utmost importance,” he replied, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency.
The advisor, ever loyal and ready to serve, responded, “Anything, my king. What do you require of me?”
With a heavy sigh, King Aiden leaned forward, his fingers interlacing in thought. “We must move up Prince Maccoy's wedding date,” he declared.
The advisor's brows furrowed in concern. “How soon, my king?” he inquired, his voice laced with apprehension.
“I want the preparations to be completed within two weeks,” King Aiden stated, his tone resolute.
The advisor's eyes widened in disbelief. “My king, at that will not provide us with enough time,” he protested, his voice filled with genuine concern.
But King Aiden would not be swayed. “We must find a way to make it happen,” he insisted, his voice unwavering.
Unable to contain his curiosity, the advisor ventured further, “Has Prince Maccoy's condition worsened, my king?”
A flicker of anger flashed across King Aiden's face, his eyes narrowing. “You are not permitted to ask such questions,” he snapped, his voice sharp with authority.
The advisor, taken aback by the king's sudden outburst, quickly apologized. “I didn't mean to pry, sir, but- “
Interrupting him, King Aiden's voice grew colder, cutting through the air like a blade. “But what? I have given you an order. Do as I request, or I will find someone who can,” he declared, his tone final.
The advisor bowed low, his head lowered in submission. “Yes, my king,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of obedience and disappointment.
As King Aiden sat upon his grand throne, his mind wandered to his beloved son, Prince Maccoy. He was locked away in his private chamber, surrounded by a flickering glow that matched the flames that danced within his soul. At his desk, Prince Maccoy delicately lit a stick with his own elemental flame, using it as a makeshift quill to write upon a piece of black coal-like cloth.
“Sweet Hanina,” he began, his heart heavy with unspoken fears. “I try never to worry, but...”
Suddenly, a sinister voice echoed within Prince Maccoy's mind, a voice that only he could hear. The demon's words sent a chill down the prince's spine, as it warned him of the consequences of revealing its existence to his beloved Hanina. “Tell her anything about me,” the demon hissed, “and when I have full control over you, I will make you kill her.”
Prince Maccoy watched as his message disappeared into the cloth, his heart heavy with the weight of his secret burden. He knew he had to protect Hanina at all costs, even if it meant keeping her in the dark about the darkness that plagued him.
Hanina, unaware of the turmoil within her lover's heart, responded to his message with concern. “Dear Prince Maccoy, what troubles you? Sarah told me you were ill when she visited here.”
Prince Maccoy, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and pain, wiped away Hanina's message and carefully crafted his response. “I had a cold, but I am better now, my love. Please, do not worry about me.”
Hanina, ever the dutiful and caring partner, understood the need for Prince Maccoy to focus on his recovery. “I must return to work,” she wrote, her words filled with genuine affection. “I love you, Maccoy.”
With a heavy heart, Prince Maccoy penned his final words to his beloved. “I love you, Hanina,” he wrote, his hand trembling slightly. He placed the message aside and stood up from his desk, his eyes fixated on the world outside his window.
Prince Maccoy turned towards the window, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse of the Fire Kingdom. The flames danced and flickered, mirroring the turmoil within his heart. He could hear a persistent knock on his bedroom door, but he had no desire to answer. His mind was consumed by a sense of rebellion, a longing to break free from the chains that bound him.
***
Prince Tyson navigated his way through the maze of corridors, his steps purposeful, until he reached Victor's office. The door stood open, and Victor, the head of the Fire Kingdom soldiers, was busy poring over a pile of documents.
Prince Tyson knocked on the open door, catching Victor's attention. “Good day, Victor,” he greeted, his voice laced with concern. “Did you manage to recover the Earth Kingdom's medical records?”
Victor looked up, a weary expression etched on his face. “Your father didn’t tell you,” he replied, his voice tinged with disappointment.
Confusion clouded Prince Tyson's features. “Tell me what?” he pressed, his heart pounding in anticipation.
“King Aiden cancelled your request,” Victor revealed, his voice heavy with regret. “When I arrived in the Earth Kingdom, they claimed that the soldier who was killed in the Green Forest wasn't the victim of a human attacker, but rather, the forest itself.”
Prince Tyson's eyes widened in disbelief. “What? The green forest killed him?” he exclaimed, struggling to comprehend the absurdity of the situation.
Victor nodded solemnly. “That's what they claim. The soldiers believe that the forest itself turned against him, taking his life in a mysterious and inexplicable manner.”
Prince Tyson's mind raced, connecting the dots with a sense of urgency. “That's the very reason we needed those medical records for my brother Maccoy,” he declared, his voice tinged with desperation.
Victor sighed, his weariness evident. “I apologize, Prince Tyson. I was preoccupied with the task of cutting and burning down trees. I didn't realize the gravity of the situation.”
Prince Tyson's voice softened, filled with both frustration and concern. “Victor, Maccoy's condition is not improving. We need those records to find a way to help him.”
Victor's eyes met Prince Tyson's, a glimmer of understanding passing between them. “Yes, I received word of his deteriorating health when I arrived this morning,” he acknowledged. “In fact, they have already taken the liberty of moving Prince Maccoy's wedding date.”
Victor looked at Tyson with concern. “Tyson, you looked shocked about the news of your brother's wedding date being moved up,” he said.
Tyson sighed heavily, his worry etched on his face. “I knew my father was considering it, but I never thought he would actually go through with it. Maccoy is not well,” he replied, his voice laced with sadness.
Victor placed a comforting hand on Tyson's shoulder. “Plead to your father again, Tyson. Stress the importance of obtaining the Earth Kingdom's medical records for Maccoy.”
Tyson's eyes searched Victor's face, uncertainty clouding his thoughts. “But what if he doesn't agree? What if he refuses to see reason?” he asked, his voice filled with desperation.
In a hushed tone, Victor leaned closer to Tyson. “I am saying this off the record, my prince. Sometimes in a man's life, when he knows he is right, he must go against the grain.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Tyson nodded, absorbing Victor's words. “I understand, but it's different for princes. We have obligations, responsibilities,” he muttered, the weight of his position evident in his voice.
Victor's gaze softened, his eyes filled with empathy. “Well, then let's hope and pray for the best for your brother. And remember, Tyson, sometimes the greatest strength lies in challenging the norms, even if it means going against your own blood.”
As they watched the Fire Kingdom soldiers training outside the window, a sense of unease settled upon them.
Tyson's eyes narrowed, his voice filled with bitterness. “My father will not believe it until the blood is on his hands. He has always been blind to the consequences of his actions.”
Victor sighed, his voice tinged with sadness. “You know how the last great war started, Tyson. It wasn't a Wind Kingdom Prince being killed, as many believe. It was the Water King's obsession with power that led to the destruction and chaos. And now, he seeks to erase any reminders of his past mistakes.”
Tyson's eyes widened in realization. “So, he is starting problems with Marudeva and the Dwellers? The Dwellers never cause any problems,” he exclaimed, anger and disbelief mingling in his voice.
Victor nodded gravely. “King Arroyo wants something from Marudeva, and so he is causing problems for him. Innocent lives are being affected by his stubbornness and arrogance.”
A fire ignited within Tyson, his determination burning bright. “That's wrong, Victor. It's all wrong. But for now, my focus is on helping my brother. Thank you for your advice,” he declared, his voice filled with newfound resolve.
Prince Tyson exited Victor's office, feeling a mixture of frustration and urgency. The training building of the Fire Kingdom soldiers loomed behind him, its echoes of clashing swords and shouts of warriors fading into the distance. With determined steps, he made his way towards the back entrance of the Fire Kingdom Palace, his mind consumed by thoughts of saving his brother.
***
As Hanina walked down the mansion’s halls, she couldn't help but notice the maid standing there, her eyes darting around nervously. Curiosity piqued, Hanina approached her, wanting to understand what was going on.
“What are you doing?” Hanina asked, her voice filled with a mix of concern and authority.
The maid, blocking Hanina's view of the hallway, looked at her with a hint of defiance. “Hanina, you need to chill. Rowan is not here.”
Hanina's brows furrowed. “Even though Rowan is away, his expectations remain the same. The house must be kept in order.”
The maid sighed, walking Hanina away from the hallway. “You work way too hard, Hanina. Lucy, the other maid, is much better at communicating with the staff than you are.”
Hanina felt a pang of frustration. “Did you clean the third-floor game room?” she asked, trying to divert the conversation back to the tasks at hand.
The maid smirked. “Lucy says she will be in charge when Rowan returns.”
Hanina's heart sank. She had always been loyal to Rowan, faithfully carrying out her duties. But it seemed that Lucy had been spreading seeds of doubt among the staff, slowly eroding their trust in Hanina's abilities.
“Lucy lied to you,” Hanina said, her voice laced with a mix of sadness and determination. “I spoke to Rowan before he left. He entrusted me with the responsibility of overseeing the house in his absence.”
The maid's eyes widened in surprise. “Hanina, everyone talks about it all the time to Rowan. You are far too beautiful to be just Rowan's assistant. With a little more convincing from Lucy, Rowan will realize it too.”
Hanina's heart skipped a beat. The maid's words were unexpected and unsettling. She had always seen herself as a trusted member of Rowan's household, someone he relied upon for her skills and dedication. But now, the insidious whispers of doubt began to take hold in her mind.
Hanina noticed another maid, walking towards her from the end of the hallway. The maid seemed flustered, as if she had something urgent to attend to. Hanina, standing near the grand staircase, called out to her.
“What's the matter?” Hanina asked, her voice filled with concern.
The maid paused for a moment, catching her breath. “I apologize, Hanina,” she said. “I was just about to head downstairs to finish my tasks.”
Hanina frowned, her eyes narrowing. “Rowan entrusted me to keep an eye on his mansion. You should go back to your work,” she said firmly.
The maid hesitated for a moment, then nodded and scurried away, disappearing down the hallway. Hanina watched her go, a sense of unease settling in her stomach. Something didn't feel right.
As Hanina turned to walk back towards the hallway, she noticed Lucy, another maid, standing near her bedroom door. Hanina quickened her pace and approached Lucy, stopping beside her.
“Lucy, what are you doing?” Hanina asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Lucy looked startled, her eyes darting down the hall to make sure no one was watching. “Hello, Hanina,” she said, attempting to sound nonchalant.
Hanina crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on Lucy. “Why were you trying to get into my bedroom?” she demanded.
Lucy hesitated, her eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and concern. “I wanted to know what you're hiding in there,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hanina's eyes widened in surprise. “There's nothing to hide, Lucy. And even if there was, it's none of your business,” she replied, her tone firm.
Lucy took a step closer, her voice filled with determination. “Hanina, I can feel it. You're concealing something important.”
“Just go back to work, Lucy,” Hanina said, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and caution. “There's nothing for you to find here.”
Lucy sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine,” she said, her voice filled with resignation. “But remember, Hanina, sometimes the truth has a way of revealing itself, whether we want it to or not.”
Hanina watched as Lucy hurried down the hallway, her footsteps fading into the distance. She sighed with relief, grateful for the brief respite from her duties as a maid in Rowan's grand estate. As she stepped into her own bedroom, a sense of unease settled over her.
***
As Marudeva approached the imposing Dweller Warrior training building, he dismounted with a graceful leap and strode purposefully towards Aurgelmir, his trusted General.
Aurgelmir stood tall and resolute, awaiting Marudeva's arrival. As they exchanged a knowing nod, Aurgelmir spoke with a hint of urgency in his voice, “Sir, we have been monitoring Willson the armor for days, observing his every move. It has come to our attention that his wife passed away last year, and now he is left to raise his ten-year-old son alone.”
Marudeva's brows furrowed as he absorbed this information. “Do you suspect that he may be working with the Water King?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
Aurgelmir hesitated for a moment before responding, “We cannot be certain, but the signs are troubling. We must tread carefully, sir. Shall we bring him in for questioning?”
Marudeva's eyes gleamed with determination as he shook his head. “No, Aurgelmir. If Willson truly is working against us, we need to keep him unaware of our suspicions. We must gather more information before we make our move.”
Aurgelmir nodded in understanding, his loyalty unwavering. “Yes, sir. But it is difficult to fathom that some of our fellow Dwellers would betray us.”
Marudeva's gaze turned distant, lost in thoughts of treachery and deceit. “Desperation can drive even the most noble hearts astray,” he mused. “Perhaps Willson is driven by greed or has fallen victim to blackmail.”
Aurgelmir's eyes narrowed, his voice filled with determination. “Rest assure, sir, we will uncover the truth and resolve this issue swiftly.”
Marudeva's expression softened, a flicker of sadness crossing his face. “I can only hope that my beloved wife finds solace in our new surroundings,” he murmured, a hint of longing in his voice.
“Sir,” Aurgelmir began, his voice steady but respectful. “No worries, sir I will personally start observing Wilson.”
Marudeva looked up his paperwork, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination. “Aurgelmir,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “You must understand the importance of this task, just watch him. I trust you to keep me informed on anything that may jeopardize our safety.”
as Marudeva sat hunched over his desk, poring over the endless paperwork that came with running the vast Dweller lands. His eyes strained, his mind weary, but he knew this was his duty, his responsibility. Just as he was about to finish up for the day, Aurgelmir, a trusted warrior, barged into the room with two Dweller warriors in tow.
Marudeva looked up, his tired eyes filled with curiosity and concern. “What is going on?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of weariness.
Aurgelmir pointed a finger towards the detained Dweller warrior, his voice seething with anger. “This disgrace of a Dweller warrior was helping Willson. We caught him red-handed, passing information from Willson to a soldier of the Water Kingdom. The exchange took place in the heart of the desert.”
Marudeva's brows furrowed as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. “Does Willson or anyone else know that you have detained him?” he inquired, his mind racing with possibilities.
Aurgelmir shook his head, confusion etched on his face. “No, why?”
A glimmer of opportunity sparked in Marudeva's eyes. “Because,” he said slowly, his voice filled with calculated determination, “we might be able to use him.”
Marudeva rose from his seat and walked purposefully towards the detained Dweller warrior. His steps were measured, his gaze piercing. He stood before the warrior, towering over him, and asked, “Why would you betray your own people for the Water King?”
The detained warrior's voice trembled slightly as he answered, “The Water King promised me riches beyond my wildest dreams. Gold and diamonds, a life of luxury.”
A surge of anger coursed through Aurgelmir's veins. He grabbed the detainee by the chest armor, his grip tight and unforgiving. “You betray your own people for material wealth?” he spat, his voice dripping with disdain.
Marudeva raised a hand, signaling Aurgelmir to release his grip. He wanted to understand the depth of this betrayal. “How did you hear about the Water King's offer?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with authority.
The detained warrior hesitated for a moment, then confessed, “A soldier from the Water Kingdom approached me. He whispered of the riches that awaited, all I had to do was deliver notes from Willson to the Water Kingdom soldier.”
Betrayal had taken root not only in the heart of a warrior but also in the sanctity of his own home. A surge of determination coursed through Marudeva's veins. He knew what he had to do. He would use this detained warrior as a pawn, a means to uncover the truth, to protect his wife, and to restore honor to the Dweller lands.