Amaranth's Yule

Chapter Four ~ Fallen Leaves in the Summer

Lassor awoke in complete darkness. All around him was an empty, black expanse. The air smelled smoky and musky, foul even. Am I in the Voidlands? he wondered, feeling like the darkness was stifling his very existence.

After moments of listening carefully and peering into the dark, he mustered up the courage to begin inch forward cautiously. He stuck his arms out in front of him, feeling for anything that might be lurking in the darkness. The deafening silence and lack of anything physical besides himself was unnerving. Eventually, after minutes of wandering blindly in one direction, something rough brushed across his hand. It's rock, he realized, running his hand over its uneven surface to make sure it was real. He had begun to think there was nothing in this vast, black expanse. He ran his palm over the wall higher and higher, but it kept going up, beyond his reach. He faced the other way and walked about three yards until he felt the other wall. Am I in a cave?

He turned and continued walking forward, keeping one hand on the rocky wall. As he kept creeping deeper into the petrifying darkness, the smoky smell grew stronger. He stopped abruptly as he began to make out a gentle breathing that echoed around the cavern. It sounded like it was coming from a very large creature. After a moment of trying to figure out where it was coming from, he took a few more steps forward.

Then he froze.

A light, smoky breeze was blowing on his face, going in and out rhythmically.

The source was right in front of him. Lassor didn't dare reach his hand out.

Suddenly, two lucent, amber orbs appeared inches away from his face. In the middle of each light was a thin, black slit. Those aren't lights, he realized, gazing into them fearfully. They're eyes.

The dragon let out a deafening roar right in his ear, giving Lassor a glimpse of its gaping, fiery mouth, before he bolted upright in bed. Lassor gazed wide-eyed around the room, breathing heavily, sweat dripping off his brow as he took a minute to blink himself back to reality. Reality, he thought with a sigh after he had calmed down. It's practically a nightmare itself.

The events of the previous day had shocked everyone, including him. The whole afternoon was spent mourning and honoring. People gathered in the streets, left flowers and gifts at the castle, and decorated the buildings and shops in their memory. Sadness had hung over the kingdom for the rest of the day, like a gray cloud ready to pour, and nearly everyone in Revelen had attended the funeral that evening. And while Lassor was still greatly saddened by his parent's deaths, he knew he wouldn't have much time to sit around and wallow in sorrow like others. In only two years, Lassor would be old enough to take the throne, which meant he was going to have to learn everything there was about being king, and he was not looking forward to it. Fortunately, the castle regent would handle all the political matters until he was ready, but he certainly wasn't going to get a break during those times.

Lassor sat in his bed a little longer before getting up, knowing very well that it might be the last time he didn't have to constantly worry about the fate of the kingdom. He got dressed and threw on his favorite cloak; black, fur-trimmed, and made of silk. Red had never appealed to him that much; it was too bright. As soon as he opened the doors, he noticed the commotion down the hall at his sister's dorm. He hurried over and stood behind the three servants that were making all the fuss. "Good morning, men," he greeted casually.

The servants whipped around, startled, and bowed a welcome to him. "Good morning, Prince Lassor." They said in chorus.

"What's going on here?" Lassor asked, looking beyond the servants and through the small crack between the two doors.

"The princess won't come out of her room," one explained

"She has not had a bite to eat since yesterday afternoon!"