The king was moved with emotion by Darben’s care for his honor. He looked upon the uncovered face of his son one last time, then nodded slowly to Darben.
“It shall be written,” he said softly. Darben glanced over at the queen, who would not even look at him. He respectfully bowed before the king before slowly turning to walk away.
Later that night, he was joined in his chamber by Omron, who urged him not to leave, but to offer an apology to the Queen.
“Darben,” Omron implored. “Please consider the matter. I do not even care if you tried to seduce Leila or not. But one day, as King, I shall need you.”
Darben stood in front of his brother, smiling. “Omron, I have always felt that my destiny would take me elsewhere. From behind these sterile walls, and even beyond the reach of our father’s kingdom. In a strange way, I believe that what has taken place is simply fate.” He placed a hand upon his brother’s shoulder. “You always have been my brother, and no matter where I go, I shall always be yours.”
At sunrise, at the King’s order, his guards escorted Darben from his chamber, leaving behind his royal wear, carrying a few belongings to the castle’s doors, dressed in his princely cloak. As he passed through the gardens, he saw the queen watching him from a window. Suddenly, he thought of something he wanted to say and he stopped. Turning to face the queen he announced:
“One day, my Queen, this Kingdom and its entire splendor shall be delivered into the hands of one not strong enough to hold on to it alone,” he shouted, referring to his brother. “Because this day, you have banished its true strength away from you.”
Turning away, he was escorted out to the gates of the city of Onus, where Prince Darben began his journey as an orphan.
CHAPTER TWO: “The Lucians”
Long ago, the land of Frales had been known for its rolling hills, beautiful trees, and delicious fruit. It was founded by Lord Dorfman, who built the village with its wonderful homes crowned by the majestic presence of the small Castle that bears his name. Nowadays, Frales was the one place one would never want to find themselves after sunset. Legend had it that it was the den of vampires and wolf people. Weary travelers were often warned that it would be better to rest in the pig sties of the small farms along the way than to journey forward at night through Frales.
The once vibrant town now sat eerily silent; the majestic castle now appeared to rest vacant, like a monument to those who once graced her halls.
It was nightfall. Darben had walked as far as he could. He found a cave near the city of Frales. He and Omron had heard the wild, and sometimes much exaggerated, stories of the servants of vampires eating the flesh off of people as they stood alive. He found them entertaining but was more interested in whether any of them had actually seen a vampire. The answer was always ‘no.’
It appeared that vampires were just as elusive as were the people of Frales.
He placed his belongings inside the dark, damp space, fascinated with the glow of the moon that illuminated the area. Despite being so close to Frales, he wasn’t afraid. His bow was beside him. Besides, vampires may very well find his disfigurement unappetizing. Quickly, he found some wood so he could make a fire to keep warm. His thoughts rose over the crackling of the burning embers, returning to the day before. He recalled watching as the leaves had gathered beneath the branches of the tall maple trees of the gardens.
He imagined himself as a leaf, cast about to ride aimlessly on the uncertain winds. Due to his arrogance, he had taken no gold or silver with him, and had deliberately dressed down to appear as much like a servant as possible. That was, however, very hard to do when the only clothes you’ve ever owned were made of the finest of silk and linen.
