...War Over the Stars...

~Chapter One~
Tarone

“What news have you brought?” King Salorn demanded of the young messenger, who was practically shaking below the Kings throne.
Poor boy, Tarone thought. King Salorn, King of the land Rocol, was a harsh leader. The kind of ruler that would execute you for burning his toast. The messenger looked about thirteen years old, and was glancing around nervously.
“WELL?!” the King boomed, and the messenger jumped.
“Sire, a message from King Jalowe, ruler of the kingdom Moraso.”
There was a moment of silence as this sunk in. King Jalowe was hated by King Salorn. They had hated each other since childhood, and never had grown out of it.
“Proceed.” The King growled.
“S-sire…” The messenger said, cringing. “King Jalowe has… declared war on us.”
There were scattered gasps throughout the large hall. A delicate one came from Queen Kristine, who sat gracefully, next to the King, in her own throne of silver. Her hand flew to her heart in an elegant manner.
After a few moments of silence, the King gave a murderous look to the messenger, as if it were his fault, and asked quietly, in a poison filled voice, “For what reason?”
The messenger winced, and looked down at his feet. “He claims you have stolen his star.” He managed to get out.
“WHAT?!” The King shouted. There were a few more gasps, and muttering filled the hall.
He thinks our King stole his star?!
Nonsense! How could he have?
Everyone knows that a kingdom can only have one star!
Tarone had his own thoughts, though he didn’t share them with his neighbors, The star? The star provides energy for each kingdom! Without it, a kingdom could hardly survive! Crops would die, diseases would sweep the land, and evil would fill everything! And yet, to have two stars in one kingdom… When Fairy Queen Monith gave each kingdom its own star, she warned us that if one kingdom had more than one star, things would go wrong. Everything would fall apart. Surely Jalowe doesn’t think we would risk such a thing?!
But evidently, King Jalowe did think they would, for he had declared war on them.
“King Jalowe of Moraso, states that he will not stop fighting until you produce the star you stole, or until he wins it back.” The messenger said over the noise. The mutterings died down as everyone waited to hear what the King would say.
“Nonsense! Everyone knows that having more than one star would be our downfall! He simply uses this as an excuse for a war. Reply to him, and say to him: I, King Salorn, am not in possession of his kingdom’s star. We have no desire for a fight. Please declare peace.”
Though he said he had no desire for a war, King Salorn looked as if he’d like to wring Jalowe’s neck. He was obviously backing down for the sake of the kingdom.
Before the relieved messenger could escape the room, one of the King’s ten advisers hobbled in as fast as he could make his old body go.
“Sire! Sire! Devastating news!” The exhausted advisor panted. “Upon hearing the news, we immediately hastened to check on our own star. It has been stolen! It is no longer in its place of honor!” the advisor managed to get out in a rush.
At this news, the Queen fainted gracefully and there were a mixture of despairing shouts, gasps, and horrified cries. A group of ladies in waiting immediately rushed up to the Queen and supported her out the door, and on her way to her resting chambers.
The King had jumped up indignantly. “This is true!?”
“Yes sire.” The advisor said, bowing.
“Call the messenger! We are at war with the thieves! They say we have stolen theirs, when they have really stolen our star! Prepare the soldiers!” The King said. “Tarone!” He yelled out. Tarone who had relaxed slightly, stiffened to attention.
“Yes sire?”
“Accompany my son to the meeting room!”
“Yes sire.” Tarone said, and obediently stood by Prince Amose, as he stood and turned to the door. Tarone followed silently.
Tarone was in an unusual position in the castle. He was neither servant nor noble. He was between the two. His position was the result of his father’s death. Nine years ago, when Tarone had been ten years old, his father had been just a lower guard at the castle. Tarone along with his father had over heard some traitors plotting the Queens death. Before his father could do anything, the traitor, dressed as a servant, had already gone into the dining hall with a tray containing a poisoned pastry. Tarone’s father had rushed into the room, just as the Queen reached for the pastry.
“Poison! It’s poisoned!” Tarone’s father had yelled, but the queen, being in one of her moods, had dismissed the idea, saying that she had ordered these pastries specially, and that the cook had made them mere seconds ago, and she trusted the cook.
Tarone’s father had been one of the most loyal persons in the kingdom, so when he saw, despite his warning, the queen was going to eat the poisoned pastry; he jumped forward and did the only thing that would keep the stubborn queen from eating the pastry. He put it in his own mouth. Within seconds, he had fallen to the ground, and he twitched as the last of his living self left him. The Queen had uttered a small “Oh!” in a squeaky voice, and promptly fainted, while the rest of the dining hall went into chaos, with the King yelling, and the guards running every which way.
The whole time, Tarone looked on the scene, jaw hanging. He grew numb as he saw his father stop moving. He realized that his father was dead with a sickening jolt. The numbness was replaced with burning anger as he saw the servant dressed traitor slipping away. He rushed forward with a roar and knocked the young man down. Despite being only ten, since Tarone was in training to be a guard like his father, he was already strong for his age. He knocked into the young man, knocking him into the stone wall, and making him lose consciousness.
From that day on, the Queen had taken Tarone under her wing. After all, his father was dead because she hadn’t listened. And Tarone had taken down the traitor, and they had used him to get to his master. In the end everyone who had been involved with trying to kill the King’s wife, had either been killed or imprisoned. And it had left Tarone fatherless. Since his mother had died of fever years ago, it left him an orphan.
Now, years later, Tarone was in an interesting position. He was Prince Amose’s best friend, and the Queen often favored him, and yet he was not of noble blood. But because of what his father had done, he found himself standing next to the Prince as the King, his military leader, and advisers planned attack and defense strategies.