Crown Prince, Leon Alexander Hightower laid on his bed. He was tired from last night, his manhood ache, and his head hurts. He had both love and hate for last night. The prince sat up and watched the windows in his room, the morning rays hit the luxurious red velvet, and a soft red glow lights the room.
He passed one hand through his brown hair and pulls back the loose strands that blocked his vision. Feeling something nudge against his leg, he moved the bed sheet cover to see exactly what it was.
It was just the girl’s leg, she was stirring awake now, and Prince Leon leaned over and kissed her shoulder. The kiss caused the girl to give off a soft moan, yet that made Leon give her another kiss. The girl turned, so she could avoid the kiss, it was then clear to Leon that she just wanted to sleep. He felt another hand wrap around his torso and a slight smile creeps on his face.
“Mhm, stay a bit longer, your highness.” The girl whispered into his ear, giving out a soft purr after. He felt her soft skin, and ample breasts, as it pressed against his back. She did not know how much he wanted to stay, but even a prince has duties, and King would not be happy is he missed them.
“I’m sorry Daisy, you know I can’t stay.” Leon replied to the prostitute.
Leon rolled over onto her, pinning her hands to the bed as he sucked on her neck with his lips. The woman gave off a soft cry. Leon let her go and moved over her to sit on the edge of the bed, as his eyes searched the room. He stood up and walked over to a piled layer of clothes and looked through them for his. Finally, he found his pants and his shirt and put them on while he walked to the mirror.
Leon looked at himself in the wardrobe mirror and fixed his shirt. He frowned as he noticed the stain, Well, that isn’t very princely, he thought. Leon opened his wardrobe, searching around for a proper shirt to put on. The maids had folded and washed his shirts, making it easy to find the one he was looking for. He unbuttoned his shirt, putting on the new white one.
Now, where did I rest those boots, Leon thought, as he looked around his room.
He found his grey boots against one of the chairs by the table, hidden by a nice pair of panties. After his boots were on, Leon fond his pouch of coins on the table. He took out three gold coins and five silvers from his pouch, an extra gold as a tip.
I think I have a soft spot for prostitutes, the prince thought.
“Make sure you two leave quickly. Father doesn’t like when I bring home girls.” Leon said to Daisy, who frowned in disappointment and hugged the pillow. Especially girls he hasn’t chosen, Leon mused, as he stood up. He gently lifted the bottle of liquor off the table and poured himself a shot. Can’t start the day sober, he thought, as he lifts his head back and poured the drink down his throat.
Leon picked his sword belt up, with his sword still on it, then attached it around his waist, he did the same for the pouch of coins on the table. He moved towards the coat rack, which was near the door. He took his white leather long coat off the rack, then left the room.
The crown Prince excited his room, two knights were stationed on either side of the door. They were like statues, the finest Almeria had to offer.
“Your Highness” The guards spoke, the sound of metal hitting metal resounded as their gauntlets smacked against their helmets in a salute.
“At ease” Leon responded. He slid his arms into coat, pulling the coat against him as he walked. The knights trailed behind, He felt like his guards served more like decorations than actual guards. I'll have to get used to people following me after I leave my chambers, if I ever want to be king someday, Leon thought.
The upper floors of Hightower Castle are for guest of nobility, staying foreign dignitaries, and of course the royal family. You could also say they belonged to his sisters, since they occupied most of it. Leon loved his sisters, but they were blind to the world around them. He walked down the stairs and was saluted by half a dozen knights as he exited the staircase.
What time is it? Leon thought. He had sword training with Mistress Eve, but most likely missed his training with her, his stomach growled, he missed breakfast, too. He walked past several handmaidens to his eldest sister Ariel, they smiled at him and greeted him a pleasant good morning before walking away laughing softly. It was not until he was on the fifth floor of the castle and looking out over the balcony did he realize why they were laughing.
It was midday and much pass training Mistress Eve would be happy. I was late for court; I was always late. You’ll have to stop whoring and drinking one day, Father also won't be pleased, as if he ever would be, Leon thought. He was lucky enough to meet a maid carrying a tray of food, the woman greeted him kindly by his title as she bobbed a curtsy to him, and was also far too happy to let him pilfer from the tray. When he reached the fourth floor, he had already eaten the bread, cheese, and sausage. He finished his breakfast with a mug of orange juice and gave the mug over to a passing maid, so she could carry it back to the kitchen.
The fourth floor certainly had more foot traffic, instead of knights, there were guards posted evenly throughout the floor. Patrols were regulated and in groups of five, Leon moved quickly towards the throne room, low born nobles and merchants greeted him as they lined up for a chance to meet the king, who acted as a judge when two or more nobles had disagreements. The high nobility required a special court, since matters concerning the high nobility are matters concerning the state, and such things need to be carefully handled.
The nobility mostly argued among themselves while he walked the hall leading to the throne room. A few aggressive noblemen and noblewomen stopped the prince, to either to introduce themselves or their daughters, which were not present, or to boast about their latest political or economic maneuvering’s. His knights moved them away, they are not entirely without use, Leon thought.
Large twin doors guard the entrance to the throne room. The twin doors were as high as three men and made of metal. Two guards stood on each side of the door, unlike the knights in the army or in the castle, they wore a mix of heavy and light Armor, they were true knights, trained to be deadly on the battlefield, and of high nobility. Leon ordered the knights to open the door with a gesture. The door was swung up on its hinges at his command, pushed by the four knights.
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“It was a bloody mess my king.” A knight in black armor said. His helmet was on the ground besides him. A black carpet led from the twin doors to the throne. Pillars surrounded the throne room in a circular formation. Pearl white tiles covered the throne room floor.
Leon walked closer towards to the stairs that led up to the throne his father sat on. The king didn’t look pleased, at all. Leon walked up the black carpet, his guards moved to the circular walls of the throne room, joining the other knights who were already in a circular formation around the room.
“You are late, Crown Prince.” The king said towards to Leon, his voice put emphasize on the title. No need to remind me of my place father, Leon thought. Leon looked at the King, his father was becoming old, even his clothing has changed from the military outfits, to these fancy robes. His hair had slowly faded from the dark black it was, now a dull black with many white strands of hair. However, his eyes still stayed the strong blue, Leon had always felt like he was being stabbed with those eyes. Leon had tried so much to be the Crown Prince that his father wanted, even when he was at his best, his father never seemed happy.
Leon moved to the right of his father, with Arch-mage of the Spire of Vatra on his left. Leon watched the black knight, who knelt before the stairs to the throne. The doors to the throne room slowly creaked back as it closed tightly as peeping nobles tried to get a last look at what was going on in the room.
“General Voukhush update my son on the current situation.” The aging king said. General Voukhush, who was standing halfway up the stairs from the throne, gave a slight bow to the king.
“Two weeks ago we sent a legion towards the Badlands. Reports of villages and hamlets being desecrated were coming in frequent. Those who survived the attacks, reported of skeletons killing all life in sight. We received a generous amount of senior priest from the church of light, sent by Prelate Leron to support the legion. From the accounts of Captain Brass, the legion came across a recently attacked village. They followed the trail until they intercepted a force of two thousand skeletons atop hills. “The general said, bowing once again at the king.
“You may continue your report captain.” The king said as he gestured for the captain to go on.
“Like I was saying my king, it was a massacre, a fountain of blood. I believe they were led by a skeleton lord si-”
“A skeleton lord? Have you gone mad, this could just as easily be a necromancer.” The king interrupted him.
“I-I have thought of that my lord, but it was like in the books our mothers read to us. There was one skeleton. It was murdering my men sire.”
“Murdering?” The king said as he sat up, moving to the edge of his throne.
“Yes my king, the other skeletons, they were savage, hacking at the dead, tripping over bodies and killing horses. This one was different, it didn’t attack the dead, never tripped over a body and had no interest in the horses, except for riding one. “The king looked shocked at the statement as the knight captain talked. There had never been a skeleton lord in over seventy years.
“All this is well and good my king, but I have also read the books, the real ones, not the ones made for children. A skeleton lord needs more than being able to ride horses or jump over dead bodies.” The arch-mage replied in an unbelieving tone.
“I fear that the arch mage `is right, I have also read the records from seventy years back. I think the battle may have taken a toll on you. We cannot jump to such conclusions.” The king replied, relaxing on his throne.
“I AM NOT MAD MY KING!” The knight shouted, everyone in the room looked shocked, including the king.
“Blue eyes! It moved like a shadow, a single swipe, death! It was leading the skeletons on a horse! It killed the priest as if they were children! PRIEST! And, it is one thing to read arch-mage, but another thing when its right before your eyes. You say you remember, but do you remember the songs, because that’s what I remembered when I saw the skeleton lord!”
“Beware the Lord of the Night, beware his blue sight, beware the shadows in the night because you’ll never see the scythe! The Lord of the Night is coming for your life, no army, no castle, walls or light. Will ever save your soul from the darkness in the night.” The captain shouted the words from the song, then he broke down into tears.
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It’s been two days since Jax and Thea have been traveling with us. I still didn’t trust them, but they were earning their keep. Jax had become the unofficial driver of the wagon. Jax and Thea called the area we were in the Badlands. We were apparently coming to the end of it.
Isaac had occasionally begun to cry for no reason during the first day, but he tried his best to hide it from everyone. I am unsure of why exactly he was crying, but it made me enjoy my time in the coffin more. I practicing weaving threads while in the coffin. I fell asleep somewhere between practicing, I still do not know why that happens, but each time I wake up again feeling well rested. It confused me how a skeleton could fall asleep, I did not dream, or maybe I just do not remember dreaming. They say that you begin to forget your dreams in the first ten minutes of waking.
My arm had healed fully, the bones look new, and the hand feels new, too. Thinking about my hand made me thing about the bone thread. Can I do more with it, just like with the repair thread? A few ideas come to mind quickly, created by my wild imagination. Is it possible to control how my bone grows? I’ll also have to test that out when I get a chance. However, a weaving like that must have a high chance to explode.
Thea begun to train Isaac with using swords. Of Course, she did not have a sword to give him, so Isaac used the broken planks of wood from the crate I destroyed. I spent most of that day listening to Isaac shouts of pain every time Thea smacked during training.
Jax would scout the surrounding area wherever we set up camp. He mentioned something about doing all the scouting when during the day, and how he wants there to have no risk to the prophet's life. I almost feel bad that I am lying to them, almost. When it was night, Isaac once again opened my coffin. It wakes me up, I had fallen asleep again. Total darkness just makes me want to sleep because of how comfortable it is.
I pull myself out of the coffin and into the back of the wagon. I embraced the night sky, feeling awakened by it, I tilt my skull upwards to look at the sky, stars of all color brighten the night alongside the moons, and I wonder if one of those distant stars could be Earth. I follow the boy off the wagon, it was parked near the side of the road, behind two trees. Jax is turning what looks like a skinned rabbit on a stick, above the campfire. Thea is sitting on one of the two logs near the campfire, she brushes her hair to the side when she sees me.
I took my seat on the log opposite Thea. It was amazing to be outside in the night once again. Nia would fly wildly around the campfire as it popped and cracked over the rabbit around the campfire as it roasted the rabbit. Isaac sat next to me, rubbing the welts on his hand.
“So Jax, Laoch is like a servant of your god?" Isaac asked. Children are so curious. Jax gaze turns towards me, I believe he expects me to say something. I nod my head towards him Isaac wasn’t the only curious one. Knowledge is why I am doing this to begin with.
“Prophet Laoch. You would not call a king by his first name in his own castle, would you? He is not a servant. The first King’s prophets are like his own hands. He is the will of the First king. “Jax replied, turning over the rabbit.
“Is he like Nehron then? You know, the god of light and healing.” The boy asked again.
“The gods of this age could not hope to reach the height of glory that the First king had when he walked this earth. He is the god of souls, easing those at the gates of death to the next life. He is death in one hand and life in the other. Mercy in one, merciless in the other. Wraith in one, forgiveness in the other. Justice in one hand, unfair in the other. He is also known to be a great protector of children. This is why I have not asked why you are here young Isaac. I already know the Prophet has saved you.” Jax said, with a voice that almost had me believing.
That last part has to be a lucky guess.