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Prologue

Birth of an Heir

 Lord Amlodipine, Duke of Kansas, was awake late in his chamber, writing in his long, tattered journal. He had returned late the previous night after rushing back from the monthly war summit, where he schemed and tried to worm in his own evil to the constant warring. Virginians were proud, as any nation could be. But what mattered of a nation when a newly born babe had kept him awake through that late night? 

 One child had been enough, but two heirs would be the end of him as they stretched their self interests like taffy, Amlodipine in the middle. As the screams of Mortemer rang in his ears, all they reminded him of were the screams of battle. Amlodipine had fought hard for his position as Duke, and he wouldn't let a messy secession ruin his work. Only one heir; one that could be manipulated, molded into a tiny clay ego. At least that's what Lord Amlodipine of Kansas, Duke of Kansas thought. 

 He closed his journal and slowly stood, as if he was feigning hesitation. It was clearly a show though, as his eyes pierced those of the babe and still didn't shake his mind. Even when his hand shook over the dagger, it was calmer than it had been on any weapon. Death and war was his past and future, and the babe was only another casualty. 

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 He was a silhouette before the moonlight, casting the babe in shadow until they were one with the darkness. He wouldn't even have to see their face while his knife was wrenched in their chest. 

 The baby was prepared though. With their father's thrust, they rolled to the side and clutched the short sword they had grabbed from the un-baby proofed castle. After Amlodipine clutched his cut arm in surprise, his rage guided his hand back down. 

 The fighting manuals left open at the child’s crateside had depicted the exact attack strategy, teaching the babe all they needed to know. They blocked and rolled the knife to the side, bringing the dagger across their father's throat.

 Lord Amlodipine's expression of shock would never fade from his lifeless face, unlike the babe’s innocence. With their mother gone and Amlodipine committing the unthinkable, they had embodied the legacy of their father: war, and death. 

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