The Destined Protector (The Chronicles of Mistar - Book 1)

Four · · · Ophryn (.3)

There she was. It was Fanny. She was younger now. Eleven maybe? When Ophryn looked at his own hands, they were soft and small because they hadn't seen any battles yet. He looked about Fanny's age.

"I know," Fanny giggled in Ophryn's ear.

Her smile was bright, not worn and full of terror like Ophryn saw it earlier. Her thin black hair was tied into a fishtail braid which complimented her navy blue eyes. Ophryn had a crush on fanny since they were kids, though he didn't like to admit it.

"Know what?" Ophryn asked, scooching closer to Fanny since she was talking so quietly.

"You," she giggled. "You like me."

Ophryn backed up and shook his head fiercely. "Nuha. Your lying."

Fanny eyed him. "I can see right through you, Rynny. I know when you lie. That nuha was a lie." Fanny winked at him. "By the way, I like you too."

Ophryn couldn't help but blush. His smile was spread from cheek to cheek.

"Fannin," Ophryn's dad growled behind them.

Ophryn had no idea how his dad had gotten there so silently.

Fanny took in a strict breath. The General had scared her.

"Yes," she muttered turning around to face the General. Ophryn's dad, the king, and the queen were the only people brave enough to call Fanny by her first name. She either wanted people to call her Fanny or her majesty or highness or Miss Locks. Ophryn decided to call her Fanny because she wouldn't let him call her anything else.
"The king requests your service in the throne room. Lutenitent Parter will escort you there."

Before Fanny got up to leave, she took Ophryn's hand and kissed his palm. "See ya later, Rynny."

"Goodbye, Fanny," he replied as he watched her follow Lutenitent Parter out of the ballroom.

The General bowed to his princess before she left, then he turned to his son.

"I see you've made fancy with our dear princess," he smiled at his son. He took Ophryn's hand and helped his son off the ballroom floor.

Ophryn remembered how nice and kind his father was before his mother died.

"I don't think it will mean anything," Ophryn muttered. "The king hates me."

Even though Ophryn was eleven putes, the General put his son over her shoulders and they walked out the ballroom and along the hallway which had a glass wall. They could see the rest of the city through the glass wall and the cities houses along the edges. The city's glass dome held fast, to keep the water out as it had for millennia.

The General shook his head. "I don't the king doesn't like you, he's just very protective of his daughter. He doesn't want to see her heart get broken. Okay?'

"Okay," Ophryn mumbled. "I guess that makes sense, but I wish we weren't. I wish I could hang out with Fanny without the worry of him coming to take her away from me."

"Girl crushes," the General sighed. "I remember when I first met your mom. She was like none other. The most beautiful by far, but had her own sense of independence. She was different, and I'm sure you'll find a girl you will love and marry when you're older. Now, shouldn't you be getting to your studies? The sooner you start them the sooner you can see Fanny again!"

Before the General let his son off his shoulders, Ophryn ruffled his father's black curly hair. When Ophryn's feet landed on the white tiled floor, he pulled on his father's wispy beard and ran down the hallway.

"Bye, dad!" Ophryn called.

"Bye, son!" the General waved goodbye.

···

When Ophryn woke up from his dream, he found Mell gone. Her hand had slipped out of his and the sun was already going down. Had he slept through the whole day?

Scrambling to his feet, Ophryn called out, "Mell! Princess! Are you there?"
Ophryn stopped his in tracks to listen for a call back to him, but there was nothing.

"Mell!" he screamed again. He was worried. What if she was kidnapped? What happened? Did she walk away? He had many questions. His most important question: where was Mell?