Stormbringer: King

F I V E

"One day, the younger brother went for a walk,
and it was then he met a girl.
A beautiful princess of white."

・ ・ ・

Storm awoke to someone shaking him.

He sat up groggily, blinking. Sunlight streamed in and shone on his face, and he screwed his eyes shut, groaning. "Who is it?" he asked blearily, rubbing away the sleep crusting the corners of his eyes.

There was an amused chuckle, and Storm's vision cleared.

Bayne sat on his bed in front of him, smiling. "Good morning, son," his father greeted, his blue eyes shining in the morning light. Storm faltered.

"Uh, good morning, Father," he said slowly, rather perturbed. Why in the name of the Guardian Spirit was his father in his room?

He glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty.

"... Do you need something?" he asked. Bayne hummed, and patted his shoulder, still smiling.

"We'll be heading out of the Palace later, and look around the kingdom," his father simply stated. Storm took a moment to register his words, then gasped, eyes growing wide.

"We're... going to leave the Palace, and see the kingdom? Later?" he said, voice hushed as he stared at his father, awestruck. Bayne let out a bark of laughter, tousling his hair.

"Of course, son. I understand that it will be your first time outside, so I thought you might want to know earlier and have more time to prepare yourself," the king explained.

A shudder of excitement ran up Storm's spine, and he grinned.

They were going to leave the Palace!

They were going to see the kingdom!

He got out of bed, and raced to the window, gazing out of it. The people of the kingdom were already going about with their daily activities. He saw children playing on the streets. Shop owners proudly advertising their products. Adults gathering together, chatting heartily.

Laughter.

Smiles.

Beautiful happiness.

I'm going to see the world.

He turned back to Bayne. "What time are we leaving?" he breathed out, trying to contain the overwhelming ecstasy attempting to gush out of him. His father seemed rather amused by his reactions.

"We will be leaving at ten-thirty sharp, so you have about—" Bayne glanced at the clock, "—an hour and fifty minutes to get ready."

Storm bit his lip, resisting the urge to grin. He wanted to tackle his father and hug him, but he wrung his fingers together, stopping himself.

That would be rather undignified, jumping on the king.

Bayne must have seen something on his face, because he spread his arms wide invitingly, a humoured smile on his face. "I know you want this," he said, and gestured with his fingers.