Prologue - Part One

The beginning of it all, and the terrifying back story, and mystery unsolved.

The blood of Revailles was spread upon the brick roads; the air masked with the scent of death and lost hope. The silence of peace was broken and replaced with the cries of those who searched for help, those that had lost a loved one in a battle that was never meant to take place. The royal blood was replaced with the black soot that ran through the veins of Archnal, a land of terror and slavery and the destruction of peace and harmony. Their bitterness and anger had taken over what used to be their hearts and soul. Such darkness created creatures beyond the land’s understanding, the power within them was remarkable but the evil embedded frightened both the weak and the strong. Before shields could be built to strain against the new enemies - enemies they knew nothing of or whether they could be detained or controlled - it was far too late for their people's future. For the survival of peace.

King Richard and his queen had fallen, but death had not yet come for them. Their thrones were taken along with their pride but their hearts still beat firmly in their chests, hidden away in a castle that all folk believed was abandoned. This was their new home, with their son and the few help  they called family.

Many years of destruction had passed, darkening the brightness of the world to become as dark as the areas that once held God's temples and light.

Time had passed, and not a soul had moved. They grew weaker - staring down from the little view they had to see the destruction of their world, each second of their lives slowly slipping from their grasps. The sun had risen, and it had fallen - but there was no difference in the faces of the people; they all had just grown thinner " the color of their skin fading away, and the creatures and men who wore black, red and coal upon their chests with despicable pride grew stronger.

Did I do this to my people? The king often wondered, but he had also denied the fingers pointed towards him. The Revailles’ had survived on only the scraps they found crawling on the grounds, and the light that had come through a tiny gap in the castle’s rubble. Everyone in the abandoned rubble had worshiped that tiny hole " it was the only way to see the outside, without being seen by the evil that had invaded.

It was difficult to blame one man for the deaths of those who had once looked to him as an idol. The man didn’t accept that he had done nothing wrong, but he had also not done anything right. He sobbed in the dark corners within the walls, his bones slowly showing in stark contrast to his skin, the fat having disintegrated to nothing as time went on. The king was no longer a king, the cowardice was written across his face. He no longer deserved to wear the crown; nor had he ever deserved the prize of living. The time had made him grow weary and weak to the point that his neck could hardly bear the weight of his own head. It hadn’t taken long for the light of the world to turn to darkness, and the people did nothing but scream.

Outside the safe walls of the old rubble, flames had begun to dance upon the people’s skin. Day and night, it did not stop. More of the few who still had life within them (if it could still be called that) could still hear the terrors in the air, but continued on as if it wasn’t happening, it was nothing more to them than a bird singing in a tree on a sunny day.

The king was in the center of the hall with his queen on his left, his son on his right, all of them standing still, their pupils dark with the fear they tried so hard to hide. Their breathing was kept low; the servants arranged themselves on both sides of the king’s family. There was a time, and place for defeat and that moment had long passed them all. It was frowned upon to die willingly and to cover it with the likes of pride. Anyone would have been frightened to die at the hands of those who lived in Archnal, but only a coward would force everyone to die with him, convincing all but himself, that their death was for the best.

“We stand together, and we die with pride - we must understand our defeat, and wear the little dignity we have with honor; for the blood of Revailles!” The king spoke out, not bothering to look at the faces of those he was killing. Rocks and black shattered glass scattered upon the cracked stone floors. It didn’t take long for the Lanterns to hear their beating hearts, and smell the blood in their veins. They were small little creatures, harmless to the eye. Their asses glowed like flames, and their dark bodies were weak and trembling. Swarms had come through the spaces where the stained glass windows that had once held the images of past kings was broken.

“Are you ready?” The king looked towards his boy, no older than eight; to ask his son if he was ready to die was a tragedy, yet that wasn’t what made the king cry. It was how he knew his own face would look to the young child. He knew that no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn’t be able to show any bravery, because there was none to show. The man was weak, tired - scared.

“I’ll never be ready to die, Father. But I’ll be brave, because you are with me - and the Revailles’ blood is never afraid.” The boy only spoke to his father, but everyone in that room could heard. The boy’s face was innocent, he knew that death was something that he did not deserve. He knew his responsibilities as a prince, whether he deserved this or not had never mattered. A tear escaped his eye as he turned to face the front of the hall, his eyes growing duller awaiting his last minutes of life to tick by. The queen stood tall, refusing to look to her left, to her right, to her king, or to her son. The Lanterns came closer. As weak as they looked they had swarmed together quickly, coming closer to their meal.

A Lantern’s bite shot flames throughout the royals’ bodies, their spines arched in agonising pain, the burning was unbearable, the smallest capability of screaming was taken from them in an instant. One by one, their skin had begun to melt from the bone. The worst of it all was that they weren’t gone, not yet -  not until the very end. The King; or what was left of the man, looked to his son for the last time but his son was no longer his little boy. He looked into the boys eyes until they glowed with gold. His teeth grew long and sharp, his lips covered in blood, collapsed on the ground. His son was gone, and soon it would be his turn to follow.

Author's Note

Please leave a comment, and send a read request of this story - hope you enjoyed the first bit of this story.

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

i like it! i think you have done a very good job ... the plot line, classical good verses evil has solid hooks .. i will definitely return to read more
E.

[Octavious]

Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy the rest of what I have. :)

[Alyx Wonderland]

The details are well written. For a first chapter it's filled with the mysteries of what this world is and how fast it's going downhill. Very good. Well done!

[Octavious]

Thank you so glad you enjoyed it :)

[Dani The Unreviewed]

Wow... a little dystopian, and dark themed. Well written. I like the way you describe everything. :)

[Octavious]

Thank you so much :)