Kingdoms

Prologue

     A head of shimmering silver hair bobbed up and down in an even, steady pace, rising higher above the crowd of silent people with each step she took. As she reached the summit, she paused to embrace a man with an appearance similar to her own--a shock of white hair, crystalline blue eyes, and regal, pointed features that identified him as a direct descendant of Fjer, the ancient King of Seireich--who also wore the Crown of the Monarchs. She then stooped to kiss the forehead of a fair-haired child, hesitating a moment longer before rising and continuing down her path towards the glistening gates of pearl before her. Tears rose from her eyes and ascended to the calm surface of the sea before bursting and disappearing, melting away and mixing into the endless water. Two stone-faced guards opened the gates as she turned for one final glance at her people and her son--only to find him quickly approaching her with outstretched arms. She knelt once more and the child wrapped his arms around his mother's neck as she sobbed softly into his shoulder. She combed through his hair with her thin, nimble fingers as he looked into her eyes for the last time, his hands retreating back to his side as she returned his gaze with a loving yet sorrowful look. "Be brave, Derike. Your uncle will take care of you," she said with a smile and kissed his pale cheek, wiping the tears from her eyes as she stood, walking bravely towards her inevitable fate as her young son called desperately for his mother from his uncle's side.
 
     The city was silent that night, with a defeaning silence laden with grief and remorse for the Queen and her remaining family. While the people mourned the loss of the great ruler, fathoms above the undersea kingdom, silhouettes of dark, inhuman creatures soared overhead, shrieking in laughter as they fled to their master's home to join the festivities.
 
     A fire blazed in the center of a ring of swirling wraiths and specters, the flames bursting into the air as embers rained down in the night like dying stars--glowing radiantly before falling to the ash-covered ground as nothing but a fleck of black soot. The flames seemed to creep higher towards the twinkling stars above, the shouts of cheer and twisted songs seeming only to increase in volume along with the inferno as the night went on. The Queen of Seireich had been executed for breaking one of the sovereign laws--she had wed an elven general of Eltereich and birthed a half-breed. After being granted five years to nurture and care for her son, the Great Council had decided to execute both parents; but her partnerhad fled into an uninhabited forest, and had been missing since he had gotten word of the child. On this day, her freedom had come to an end, and her weak brother would no longer be able to uphold the peace pact among the people. The downfall of the kingdom was imminent.
 
     A robed figure observed the celebration from a high balcony, his hands gripping the cool stone railing as a hunched figure approached him from behind. The regal-postured man turned on his heels to face the intruder and unsheathed his sword, but the old man simply took a step back and leaned against his staff, the crystals embedded in the wood faintly reflecting the firelight. The younger man spoke, his sword still outstretched, although he recognized the man. "We've won, Jelenus. Surely a seer like you knows that already." The ancient oracle grinned at him slyly and hobbled closer to the king. "Don't be so sure of yourself or your minions, Yngvar. Hope remains for the people yet." The young king returned his sword to its sheath and returned his gaze to the flames. "You are getting old. You've forgotten that you said the daughter of Fjer would bear hope for the people, and noe she is dead; executed by her own people, at that, with no interference at all on my part." He gave a crooked grin as shadows danced across his face, the fire's glow making his once handsome face gruesome and hideous in the night. "My prophecies remain as I spake them. Siffa has borne our hope already--it is only a matter of time before your kingdom is extinguished, like that fire will be by morning." As the man turned to leave, Yngvar spoke once more. "But the fire burns bright for now, old man, and soon the flames will catch and destroy all in its path." Jelenus smiled sorrowfully as he stepped into the doorway, planting his staff firmly on the stone floor beside him. "You are still as foolish as the day you left, my boy." And with that, he was gone, a rush of wind billowing Yngvar's dark robes, the sun just appearing over the horizon as his expression suddenly changed with realization.

     "The boy."