The Broken Crown

Sacrifice of Youth

There were stories River had come to hear as a child, stories of the rogue woman who won over the heart of a cruel king. Stories of a rogue who utilized her sexual appeal to reel in a desperate and mourning king in need of a fling. Stories of an evil king who enlisted the aid of an assassin to murder his pregnant wife. These were just some of the exaggerated and twisted stories River grew up hearing as a child. 

The truth was entangled in the bias stories he was told by those who cared for him, raising him up for the life he would live. Caregivers would be caught lingering with one another, whispering their own opinions on River's parents to the other, spreading rumors. Keva was one of the few who lay out the facts to River, displaying the timeline of events and the solid truths from the stories River had come to learn of. 

Yet his own two parents, the two who the stories were about and influenced River's childhood, they were two individuals who seemed hesitant to retell the story to their son - the son they had given up to be raised by the elf who would eventually betray him. All of this only furthered the resentment River came to feel for his parents. For all they had fought for, for the magic to be preformed to bring Sybil back to life to start over on the family Zion wanted, all those two had fought for...they did not fight for their own flesh and blood. 

The simple stone cottage was what River did not expect to find beyond the wall of thick evergreen trees which sheltered the dwelling from the world. With a Tudor style to the small cottage, the dark green painted door of the house was marked with a simple symbol under the brass handle. The symbol of his father's family - the crest of the royal family before the kingdom's fall. 

With two short knocks at the door, River was unable to pinpoint how he felt in this moment. An endless stream of emotions fell over the past alpha, flooding the man as he told himself it was just nerves. Yet he also wondered after today, after the next coming weeks when Leala would take the throne and he would help build the new kingdom, River wondered if this would be the last time he would see his parents. 

A petite woman with brunette locks pulled the door open, her watering eyes glancing up to the golden eyes of her son. As the woman put her hands forward, her arms opening up to welcome her son, River stood still in the moment. A dry throat and tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, River remained silent and still as Sybil embraced her son in a gentle and warm hug. It had been months since she had last looked upon her son - last talked with her son. A part of her thought he had died in the battle against Keva when she heard that the battle was underway. 

Golden eyes glowed in the shadow of the entrance, looking past the shoulder of his wife and into the identical eyes Zion's son shared. "We are not here to argue. To pull you away from the track you have set yourself on."

"It was not my desire to become the man you wanted me to be," River spoke, no longer scared to speak. "It was never my destiny." 

"It was a choice-"

"It was a choice I never wanted," River interrupted, noticing his mother pull away and back into the entrance of the house. "You do not deserve the right to tell me the choices I had or even now have. You had the choice to stay with me or to even take me and run across the world with me."

"No child deserves a life of hiding from the world," Sybil softly spoke. Zion took a step forward, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist. "From being hunted."

"I still must hide who I am from the world." River glanced to his father. "I still must run from my identity."

Zion rolled back his shoulders. "And what does this new queen of yours know?"

"She knows of the truth. We both know the truths of our family bloodlines. Yet she was able to grow into that person...into the Maxwell name." River looked back to his mother. "But we make no progress casting insults here."