I Of the Storm

Chapter One

I Of the Storm

Thatonescott

Prologue:

I have heard that trust is earned. I have found that that trust is as thin as the skin on my face. I have learned that trust is easily broken.

Tonight we will rise. Tonight the sun will fall. Tomorrow, their kingdom will be no more. Their prosperity, we will take it all. Those words echo through my ears and through the merciless night growing sharp in my eyes. I follow behind my savior in a daze, his long legs making it hard to keep up with his pace. I glance behind me to find the smoke still thick in the air behind us, the smell of burning flesh still impelling itself through my senses. Without warning, my legs twist and my body drops to the harsh ground. Though perhaps only in my mind, I can feel death surrounding me. Surrounding me, stinging my eyes, of which tears begin to emerge. My throat begins to close in on itself as a choked sob rips through me. A low swear breaks through the silent void in the night. Fingers touch at my right knee as a liquid begins to consume it. The night continues to pass, growing darker rapidly until I can't see anything but the pitch black of unconsciousness that I've grown far too familiar with.

Chapter One: Sipping Silence

Iy

Burn my sorrow away. Those were the last words my mother whispered before she fell to the ground. Just like all the other victims, the other bodies. Like absolutely nothing. Like her life and her legacy would never mean anything. She had warned me of this. That I was her only feat left in the eyes of the kingdom, that I was the only one who would mean a thing. I was the only one that in cause of war, anyone would even care to save. She was as right as the sky is high. She always was. That's what made her such a great leader. That's what made our kingdom prosper in her rule, as it only burned in my wake. Two weeks of being the leader and I let my mother die, I let my kingdom fall to the forsaken ground in a pile of ashes.

I open my eyes to a woman with skin of paste and eyes of frozen gold. Her eyes move from the paper in her lap to my eyes. Though I know it is impolite, and a sign of disrespect, I move my eyes from hers. I quickly take in my setting, a room of white. A room of no smell, no feel, only of white. It makes me wonder how much red is stained beneath the paint.

At that moment the door creaks open, revealing a boy with a clenched face. "Your Highness." He says in a strained voice, bowing slightly. I simply nod my approval. "I am mentor Miles, I will be your guide for the next few weeks." He takes a seat next the pasty woman. I immediately place their similarities. High cheekbones, golden eyes, and the same nose. However, they are different more than they are the same. While her hair, that has fallen in a perfect bob, is platinum blonde, his is a dark brown with wild waves. While her skin is almost porcelain and very chalky, his is much darker. His eyes are warmer than her's, his jaw stronger.

I remove my eyes from the boy, focusing back on the room. I am lying on an uncomfortable bed the color of the walls, but the room seems to be bare of furniture without it. I take in how uncomfortable and startling the white is, even the woman seems to blend it with it. The boy, however, is an anomaly. He does not belong, that is clear. I try to place his face as one of us, someone from my kingdom, but his features are too far-fetched. He is too unique. He is an outcast in every sense and you can see it in the way he walks, the way gnaws at his bottom lip, from every breath he takes. He's an interesting one.

I force my gaze from him once again and place them on the woman who has turned her attention to me, narrowing her icy eyes.

"Would you mind if I took a call, your highness?" The lady asked in a voice as sharp as glass, but as soft as cotton. There was obvious bitterness in her tone, and I found the same thing in myself. What's a ruler without her kingdom? I thought. Your Highness is not a title I have earned.