The Suns Heir: A War of Two Kings

Rainer: The Prophecy.

"Glistening eyes will set upon the coveted seat. Two blades forged in the same womb shall meet and when all is done when fires dim. A crown once lost shall be regained." The seer gasped as her words came to an end. Her long fingernails dug into the lord governor's palm, drawing blood. Lifeless eyes shot open, bloodshot, and weathered.

Those eyes had seen a great many things...

The Seer was met with an enraged governor who had now retracted his hands.

"Speak plainly. Is it my destiny to wear the crown, as my forefathers once did? Will the clan Sunbarrow reign once more?" The governor was brimming with questions. His tone demanded answers and the good governor was used to getting his way.

"I saw two figures. Their faces were unknowable. But their eyes. Golden gems. Light bringers. Yes. Two Sunbarrow's. There was a sword betwixt them. They are at war. One shall fall and to the victor goes the crown." The seer remained breathless; her eyes still burned from her vision. Yet she still found the strength to meet with the lord Sunbarrow. She wished to gaze upon his reaction. Measure the impact that her prophecy would have.

Another figure stepped from the shadows. A man far younger than the governor. He'd seen no more than sixteen years. He held a likeness to the older man. Both Sunbarrows had a height about them, a stature in both rank and body.

Even in the dimly lit room, the sparsely placed candles would bounce off the two men's eyes. They were golden and blazed like the sun itself. Many would compare them to freshly polished antiques. Others would say it was if the honeyed embers of the sun resided on their faces. The family had been touched, blessed even. The almighty power above had birthed them in its image.

Some fanatics took their belief further. Men and women who believed in the scriptures of old. The Sunbarrow family was divine. Placed on the mortal plane to be worshiped and revered. Their existence served as the primordia's vessels on earth.

The son looked to his father inquisitively, curiosity radiated from the boy. His lord father had always been a difficult man to decipher.

Looking upon him now it seemed as if the seer's words both pleased and set him ablaze with anger...

"Father, pay these ramblings no mind. She only tells you what you want to hear, or at least enough to please you." The younger Sunbarrow edged ever closer to his father as spoke. But soon found himself retreating backward as his lord stood.

"Pleases me! Do you think it pleases me that my own kin, my own blood would dare challenge me for the throne that is rightfully mine?! Jocasta sees all and has foretold many of our family's triumphs. You would do well to heed her council should your time come." Rage coated every word that left the governor's lips. He spat with anger and shook with a temper fiery enough to set the hut ablaze.

"No Sunbarrow would dare challenge you. Uncle cares not for the title. Only that his pockets are filled with enough coin for ale and women. My siblings idolise their lord and father, as do all people in the Sundom. They know that it is you that provides for them. It is you that ensures their security and prosperity. They know their King cares little for the realm. He is a man who wears a trinket on his head. A man with a fondness for bosoms and feasts." Each word was filled with hope. Hope that he could quell his father's temper. That his words would please him.

The older Sunbarrow approached his son. His hand gripped the boy's shoulder firmly. "Perhaps it is my all too wise son I should worry about. Perhaps, the would-be heir will be my usurper." Suspicion coated the governor's lips and met his words as they came into the world. He looked upon his son with no affection. His eyes did not radiate a father's love. But instead, projected paranoia and fear.