Dark Kingdom Origins

Chapter 1

(Artwork belongs to me, on my deviantart of the same name)

The kingdom of Tycho, a bright thriving land ruled alone by King Edmund. His duties included scroll signing, royal attendances with other kingdoms and weekly audiences with the local villagers. All seemed good except his only heir, his son. He raised his son to follow in his footsteps and rule over Tycho one day, but the boy wanted to have his own life, have his own interests.

One day, a man in his thirties was roaming the halls of the Tycho castle. His large figure helped him defeat old foes in battle, but was forced to retire and become the prince's personal valet. He didn't mind, he actually got along with the prince who saw the man as more than a servant, but as a good friend to look up to and rely on. Today, the valet needed to find the prince on the king's orders and he knew exactly where to look. He headed down to the far end of the castle where the prince had a laboratory, a place where the boy felt like he could be himself. The man opened the lab door and saw the prince at a table with colourful liquids. He was wearing a brown apron and gold goggles, and a fancy, greyish-blue jacket hung on a chair near the door.

"Varian," the man said grabbing the jacket. "It's time to go or you'll be late."

"Please, Quirin," Prince Varian groaned. "I'm trying to figure out how to handle our critter problem humanely and I think I've almost gotten the formula."

"Well, it'll have to be put on hold. If you're late again, your father will have me cleaning the stables and I plan not to do that job."

Varian turned to look at his valet holding his jacket, urging him to put it on. The prince sighed sadly, got up from his seat and removed his goggles and apron. He was already dressed in his royal attire, but took the jacket off to work since he thought he had a few minutes before the audience. Quirin helped Varian put his jacket on then escorted him out of the lab, closing the door behind them.

"I'm sorry, Quirin," Varian said walking beside him. "I just don't like all these royal duties. I don't want to have my father's life. I enjoy alchemy."

"I know you do," he replied. "I understand, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices to help those who need it. Your father needs you to be prepared, should the time come for you to make decisions that he can't because of his absence."

Varian hung his head and continued to walk to the throne room where King Edmund was waiting. Varian entered through a side door where the royals could bypass the waiting commoners.

"I'll be with Adira in the armoury," Quirin told Varian. "Good luck."

"Yeah," Varian tried to say encouraged, but to no avail. He walked up to the two thrones where one seat was taken by his dad, and the other was empty. Standing beside the king was his advisor, Simon.

"Your Highness, the weekly audience is almost about to start," Simon said in his nasally voice. "You ought to have more respect for the king!"

"It won't happen again," Varian sounded like a broken record.

"Varian, son," Edmund turned to the boy. "You're eighteen now. I don't care that you didn't attend meetings or audiences before, I know you don't care for this sort of stuff. But you're at the age where you must start practicing royal protocol."

"Yes father," Varian plainly agreed.

Edmund turned to Simon and nodded at him. Simon then went to the main entrance of the throne room and opened the door. A large line of villagers flooded the hallway, each having his or her own issue. Edmund took a deep breath in and exhaled, preparing himself for the day.

"Son, audiences with the villagers will help you resolve issue in a civil and fair manner," Edmund whispered to Varian, then he called, "bring forth the first one!"

Edmund listened to each person's complaint, whether it was land dispute, lack of business or a need for more farming land. Varian did have to give his father this: to listen to people all day, coming to you to resolve their issues wasn't an easy task, and his dad seemed to take each situation calmly. But still, Varian's mind wandered sometimes, despite his attempts to try and listen in on the conversation. Everyone seemed to worship the royal family, having plenty and people coming to your every beck and call. Sure, being royalty had its perks, but Varian wanted to be free. He started singing in his mind.