Chapter 1 - Lost Princess: The Journey Home
Arrows, alight with flame, streaked forcefully across the serene night sky above what was left of a once peaceful nation. Some slammed harmlessly into the ground while many more pierced the flesh of combating soldiers overhead, many of whom spent their last dying moments attempting to protect the now crumbling outer walls.
Drakeon ordered his men to ram the gate harder, eager to reach his prize inside. After several attempts, the gate finally cracked. One last hard hit made it explode into tiny shards of wood that sailed far into the air, landing precariously around the violent hoards now pouring into the courtyard of the besieged castle. Lunaria’s men, powerless to stop the onslaught, retreated to the castle, slamming the door hard behind them. They did not take time to secure it however, it did not matter. They knew defeat was imminent. All that mattered now was the protection of the King and Queen.
Lunarian soldiers, wet with the blood of the enemy, raced down the deserted halls towards the Kings chambers, the clanking of their armor echoing as they went along. “You have to leave now,” the leader of the group shouted as he flung open the door to the bedroom. The King stood with the blade of his sword mere inches from the man’s face before realizing he was not the enemy.
The King nodded his head and retrieved his terrified wife from the closet where she had been hiding. She emerged from the darkness nearly as white as the sheets on their bed, her hands trembling all the while. “We’ll hold them off as long as possible,” a soldier promised. The King nodded in humble appreciation for the man’s sacrifice, took his wife by the hand and disappeared around the corner.
The sounds of the enemy grew louder with each passing moment. The small band of soldiers left the King’s chambers to join the remaining forces near the front door of the castle. Each man was nearly completely physically drained. Their arms ached and their stomachs churned. This battle had been the most violent Lunaria had seen in centuries and no man had been prepared to take as many lives as each had to do tonight.
A young soldier vomited in the corner while another cried in desperation. Each soldier began to realize that they were the last line of defense and each one would have to lay down their lives. It was their sworn duty to never surrender and protect the Royal Family. No one would survive this night.
It only took one hit with the massive battering ram to cause the castle door to burst open. Drakeon’s soldiers came face to face with the remainder of the Lunarian army, which did not amount to much. The mustered bravery on their faces did not stop Drakeon’s men from placing blades and axes deep into their flesh.
“This way,” Drakeon ordered as the last remaining Lunarian soldier’s heart was pierced by the tip of a spear. He lay gasping for air for a brief moment before his chest stopped rising and his head rolled to the side. All was eerily quiet now.
Drakeon’s soldiers rushed to follow their leader only to find him screaming in rage. Drakeon had been leading his men into the Great Hall in an attempt to seize the King and Queen but, much to his despair, they had disappeared. Enraged at their escape, he sent the men throughout the castle looking for any trace of them.
One of the small bands of soldiers began making their way to the north-west wall of the castle, systematically checking and clearing every room along the way. They were about to move on to the north wall when one of them innocently leaned against a stone that was ever so slightly protruding from the wall.
A loud grinding noise began bellowing from behind. The soldier jumped forward to avoid falling as a large stone door slid slowly open, revealing a hidden passageway. The soldiers stuck their torches inside searching for any signs of life. “Look!” one of them shouted, pointing to footsteps that could clearly be seen in the dust. “Notify King Drakeon,” one of the soldiers ordered of another while simultaneously telling the others, “Let’s go!” The men took off down the dark, gloomy tunnel.
At the same time the soldiers were just discovering the tunnel, a great distance away, King Leon and Queen Pria were running for their lives. The tunnel was damp, dingy and covered with a century’s worth of cobwebs. The only light came from a torch the King grasped firmly in his hand.
Suddenly, the King stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?” the Queen questioned. Out of the darkness a slight clanking sound could be heard far off in the distance. It grew in intensity at a steady pace causing the King’s eyes to grow wide.
“Run!” he ordered, as he realized the sound was that of soldier’s feet slamming hard on the ground, their armor clanking as they went. They seemed to be running full force directly at them.
Adrenaline coursed through their veins as they bolted down the tunnel. The King led the way with the Queen just behind him. She was holding in her arms a small, tightly wrapped bundle, the main reason for their daring escape. They continued quickly down the tunnel, making a dizzying amount of turns left and then right until finally, they exited onto an immensely large polished granite platform perfectly shaped into a square. Engraved atop it was a large triangle that fit ever so delicately inside, almost spilling over the edge. Directly in the center of that triangle was a tiny section of granite colored darker than all that surrounded it with a brilliantly carved “S” showing proudly.
This was all part of an immaculate temple, surrounded by ten limestone pillars that encompassed the entire platform, forming a near perfect circle. The temple was a representation of the House of Sappanor’s family crest.
The Queen quickly handed over to her husband what she had been carrying. In the small bundle, snuggled deep within all the blankets was Lunaria’s treasure, their only true heir, Princess Isabella. The baby girl slept peacefully, knowing nothing of the turmoil surrounding her. The King looked lovingly at his precious daughter, wishing there was another way to protect her, but with the soldiers quickly closing in, he knew this was the only guaranteed way to save her life. The baby sleepily opened one eye and smiled before drifting back to sleep, as if to say goodbye. He held her close to his chest, feeling her breath and her tiny heart beat against his skin one final time.
While the King relished in his final moments with his only daughter, the Queen took a few calming breaths before going about her duty. She knelt down to the small place in the platform where the “S” had been carved, removed her necklace and touched the golden amulet to it. The moment the amulet touched the square, it began to glow from within. The square slowly rose out of the ground, revealing a small limestone column underneath. It reached as high as the Queen’s waist and with still trembling hands, she again touched the amulet to it, activating four squares in the center of the platform that also seemed to be illuminated from within.
The four squares slid apart revealing an empty space below. Then, as if from a void in space, a small, black, egg-shaped craft with thin wings on each side appeared and slowly rose out of the opening. It was only large enough for one person and tonight it became a life boat for the Royal Family bloodline.
The King turned his attention back towards the tunnel. He could hear the soldiers approaching as he gave the Princess to her mother one final time. She held her child close and kissed her forehead. “I love you my darling Isabella,” she said as the emotion began to take her voice, “I hope one day you can return and save our land from this evil.” She reluctantly placed her daughter, so innocent and sweet, onto the seat of the craft.
The lid closed and the Queen touched the amulet to the side causing a small keypad to appear. She entered in a few numbers which made the engines roar to life. Tears streamed down her face as the craft began to lift off the ground. The King held back his wife, struggling to keep his own composure. He held her close as she sobbed, turning his back to the approaching soldiers. A single tear escaped his eye and traveled down his cheek for a moment before he hurriedly wiped it away. Emotion and weakness were not qualities to display to an enemy.
The soldiers were nearly on top of them before a beam of light suddenly appeared from the heavens and sucked up the tiny Princess’s craft in a blink of an eye. As the King turned his gaze from the heavens back to the platform, twenty men surrounded them with swords, their points nearly touching their flesh.
Out of the shadows, another man appeared. His pants and shirt were as black as coal, a perfect depiction of the blackness of its wearer’s heart. Behind him a scarlet red cape billowed in the wind, signifying the trail of blood he left in his wake. His face was hard and emotionless as were his coal black eyes. This was the most evil man in all the heavens, it was Drakeon.
He looked upon the helpless couple before him with a piercing gaze and shouted, “I will find her and when I do, nothing will stop me from destroying her.” As he walked away, a flick of his wrist gave the signal to kill.
“Drakeon, you traitor, you will not rule for long! My people will not stand for it!” The King yelled back at the devious man.
Drakeon looked back at the King, smiling devilishly. “We will see about that,” he said turning and walking away. As he disappeared out of sight, the soldiers attacked.
King Leon tried his best to defend his wife, but he was outnumbered. He was quickly taken down with a blade through the chest. As he lay bleeding on the ground, receiving blow after blow, the soldiers mercilessly stabbed and beat his wife to death. She screamed in horror and pain as each dagger pierced her flesh.
He tried to stand, tried to grab his sword, but it was no use. Once their evil deed had been done, the soldiers formed ranks and left the King and Queen to die, blood pooling all around them. Queen Pria was already dead when the King grabbed her hand and for the last time looked upon her face, now completely distorted from the savage beating given out by Drakeon’s men. He tried to speak, to tell her that he loved her, but all that left his mouth was blood. With his final breath, he gazed back towards the heavens and mouthed, “Isabella…” and with that, he finally expired.
At that moment, from the surrounding woods, a small weeping sound appeared. A woman, dressed in rags singed from the fires in Olmosis, tried desperately to contain her grief. She was surrounded by several others who had also witnessed the entire horrific spectacle. As soon as the soldiers had returned to the tunnel, the onlookers began trickling out from their hiding spots. They gazed upon their fallen rulers in utter disbelief and continued to weep quietly. After a few moments of mourning, the men of the group carefully picked up Leon and Pria, carrying them gently into the forest.
The peasants traveled deeper and deeper into the dense forest until a small village finally came into view. The men gently laid them on the ground at the town square and the women began to fetch water in order to clean them. There was some discussion amongst the officials of the village as to what they would do next.
Some wanted an elaborate ceremony befitting someone of royalty, some wanted to bury them immediately and some were afraid to bury them at all. All agreed that marked graves would be an unnecessary risk as they could be discovered by Drakeon or his men. After some debate, the men began digging the graves with the agreement that the only identifying feature was to be a tiny engraving of the House of Sappanor’s crest at the base of the stone that would be concealed by dirt.
Once the work had been done, the entire village, which only numbered fifty, came out to pay their respects for the once great and powerful leaders. There was no grand parade or show of grief. Instead, there were just a few words of gratitude said around a small fire. In the coming days the men would carve primitive stones with the royal crest to mark for only those who knew what they were looking for, where the great King and Queen were at final rest.
Drakeon ordered his men to ram the gate harder, eager to reach his prize inside. After several attempts, the gate finally cracked. One last hard hit made it explode into tiny shards of wood that sailed far into the air, landing precariously around the violent hoards now pouring into the courtyard of the besieged castle. Lunaria’s men, powerless to stop the onslaught, retreated to the castle, slamming the door hard behind them. They did not take time to secure it however, it did not matter. They knew defeat was imminent. All that mattered now was the protection of the King and Queen.
Lunarian soldiers, wet with the blood of the enemy, raced down the deserted halls towards the Kings chambers, the clanking of their armor echoing as they went along. “You have to leave now,” the leader of the group shouted as he flung open the door to the bedroom. The King stood with the blade of his sword mere inches from the man’s face before realizing he was not the enemy.
The King nodded his head and retrieved his terrified wife from the closet where she had been hiding. She emerged from the darkness nearly as white as the sheets on their bed, her hands trembling all the while. “We’ll hold them off as long as possible,” a soldier promised. The King nodded in humble appreciation for the man’s sacrifice, took his wife by the hand and disappeared around the corner.
The sounds of the enemy grew louder with each passing moment. The small band of soldiers left the King’s chambers to join the remaining forces near the front door of the castle. Each man was nearly completely physically drained. Their arms ached and their stomachs churned. This battle had been the most violent Lunaria had seen in centuries and no man had been prepared to take as many lives as each had to do tonight.
A young soldier vomited in the corner while another cried in desperation. Each soldier began to realize that they were the last line of defense and each one would have to lay down their lives. It was their sworn duty to never surrender and protect the Royal Family. No one would survive this night.
It only took one hit with the massive battering ram to cause the castle door to burst open. Drakeon’s soldiers came face to face with the remainder of the Lunarian army, which did not amount to much. The mustered bravery on their faces did not stop Drakeon’s men from placing blades and axes deep into their flesh.
“This way,” Drakeon ordered as the last remaining Lunarian soldier’s heart was pierced by the tip of a spear. He lay gasping for air for a brief moment before his chest stopped rising and his head rolled to the side. All was eerily quiet now.
Drakeon’s soldiers rushed to follow their leader only to find him screaming in rage. Drakeon had been leading his men into the Great Hall in an attempt to seize the King and Queen but, much to his despair, they had disappeared. Enraged at their escape, he sent the men throughout the castle looking for any trace of them.
One of the small bands of soldiers began making their way to the north-west wall of the castle, systematically checking and clearing every room along the way. They were about to move on to the north wall when one of them innocently leaned against a stone that was ever so slightly protruding from the wall.
A loud grinding noise began bellowing from behind. The soldier jumped forward to avoid falling as a large stone door slid slowly open, revealing a hidden passageway. The soldiers stuck their torches inside searching for any signs of life. “Look!” one of them shouted, pointing to footsteps that could clearly be seen in the dust. “Notify King Drakeon,” one of the soldiers ordered of another while simultaneously telling the others, “Let’s go!” The men took off down the dark, gloomy tunnel.
At the same time the soldiers were just discovering the tunnel, a great distance away, King Leon and Queen Pria were running for their lives. The tunnel was damp, dingy and covered with a century’s worth of cobwebs. The only light came from a torch the King grasped firmly in his hand.
Suddenly, the King stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?” the Queen questioned. Out of the darkness a slight clanking sound could be heard far off in the distance. It grew in intensity at a steady pace causing the King’s eyes to grow wide.
“Run!” he ordered, as he realized the sound was that of soldier’s feet slamming hard on the ground, their armor clanking as they went. They seemed to be running full force directly at them.
Adrenaline coursed through their veins as they bolted down the tunnel. The King led the way with the Queen just behind him. She was holding in her arms a small, tightly wrapped bundle, the main reason for their daring escape. They continued quickly down the tunnel, making a dizzying amount of turns left and then right until finally, they exited onto an immensely large polished granite platform perfectly shaped into a square. Engraved atop it was a large triangle that fit ever so delicately inside, almost spilling over the edge. Directly in the center of that triangle was a tiny section of granite colored darker than all that surrounded it with a brilliantly carved “S” showing proudly.
This was all part of an immaculate temple, surrounded by ten limestone pillars that encompassed the entire platform, forming a near perfect circle. The temple was a representation of the House of Sappanor’s family crest.
The Queen quickly handed over to her husband what she had been carrying. In the small bundle, snuggled deep within all the blankets was Lunaria’s treasure, their only true heir, Princess Isabella. The baby girl slept peacefully, knowing nothing of the turmoil surrounding her. The King looked lovingly at his precious daughter, wishing there was another way to protect her, but with the soldiers quickly closing in, he knew this was the only guaranteed way to save her life. The baby sleepily opened one eye and smiled before drifting back to sleep, as if to say goodbye. He held her close to his chest, feeling her breath and her tiny heart beat against his skin one final time.
While the King relished in his final moments with his only daughter, the Queen took a few calming breaths before going about her duty. She knelt down to the small place in the platform where the “S” had been carved, removed her necklace and touched the golden amulet to it. The moment the amulet touched the square, it began to glow from within. The square slowly rose out of the ground, revealing a small limestone column underneath. It reached as high as the Queen’s waist and with still trembling hands, she again touched the amulet to it, activating four squares in the center of the platform that also seemed to be illuminated from within.
The four squares slid apart revealing an empty space below. Then, as if from a void in space, a small, black, egg-shaped craft with thin wings on each side appeared and slowly rose out of the opening. It was only large enough for one person and tonight it became a life boat for the Royal Family bloodline.
The King turned his attention back towards the tunnel. He could hear the soldiers approaching as he gave the Princess to her mother one final time. She held her child close and kissed her forehead. “I love you my darling Isabella,” she said as the emotion began to take her voice, “I hope one day you can return and save our land from this evil.” She reluctantly placed her daughter, so innocent and sweet, onto the seat of the craft.
The lid closed and the Queen touched the amulet to the side causing a small keypad to appear. She entered in a few numbers which made the engines roar to life. Tears streamed down her face as the craft began to lift off the ground. The King held back his wife, struggling to keep his own composure. He held her close as she sobbed, turning his back to the approaching soldiers. A single tear escaped his eye and traveled down his cheek for a moment before he hurriedly wiped it away. Emotion and weakness were not qualities to display to an enemy.
The soldiers were nearly on top of them before a beam of light suddenly appeared from the heavens and sucked up the tiny Princess’s craft in a blink of an eye. As the King turned his gaze from the heavens back to the platform, twenty men surrounded them with swords, their points nearly touching their flesh.
Out of the shadows, another man appeared. His pants and shirt were as black as coal, a perfect depiction of the blackness of its wearer’s heart. Behind him a scarlet red cape billowed in the wind, signifying the trail of blood he left in his wake. His face was hard and emotionless as were his coal black eyes. This was the most evil man in all the heavens, it was Drakeon.
He looked upon the helpless couple before him with a piercing gaze and shouted, “I will find her and when I do, nothing will stop me from destroying her.” As he walked away, a flick of his wrist gave the signal to kill.
“Drakeon, you traitor, you will not rule for long! My people will not stand for it!” The King yelled back at the devious man.
Drakeon looked back at the King, smiling devilishly. “We will see about that,” he said turning and walking away. As he disappeared out of sight, the soldiers attacked.
King Leon tried his best to defend his wife, but he was outnumbered. He was quickly taken down with a blade through the chest. As he lay bleeding on the ground, receiving blow after blow, the soldiers mercilessly stabbed and beat his wife to death. She screamed in horror and pain as each dagger pierced her flesh.
He tried to stand, tried to grab his sword, but it was no use. Once their evil deed had been done, the soldiers formed ranks and left the King and Queen to die, blood pooling all around them. Queen Pria was already dead when the King grabbed her hand and for the last time looked upon her face, now completely distorted from the savage beating given out by Drakeon’s men. He tried to speak, to tell her that he loved her, but all that left his mouth was blood. With his final breath, he gazed back towards the heavens and mouthed, “Isabella…” and with that, he finally expired.
At that moment, from the surrounding woods, a small weeping sound appeared. A woman, dressed in rags singed from the fires in Olmosis, tried desperately to contain her grief. She was surrounded by several others who had also witnessed the entire horrific spectacle. As soon as the soldiers had returned to the tunnel, the onlookers began trickling out from their hiding spots. They gazed upon their fallen rulers in utter disbelief and continued to weep quietly. After a few moments of mourning, the men of the group carefully picked up Leon and Pria, carrying them gently into the forest.
The peasants traveled deeper and deeper into the dense forest until a small village finally came into view. The men gently laid them on the ground at the town square and the women began to fetch water in order to clean them. There was some discussion amongst the officials of the village as to what they would do next.
Some wanted an elaborate ceremony befitting someone of royalty, some wanted to bury them immediately and some were afraid to bury them at all. All agreed that marked graves would be an unnecessary risk as they could be discovered by Drakeon or his men. After some debate, the men began digging the graves with the agreement that the only identifying feature was to be a tiny engraving of the House of Sappanor’s crest at the base of the stone that would be concealed by dirt.
Once the work had been done, the entire village, which only numbered fifty, came out to pay their respects for the once great and powerful leaders. There was no grand parade or show of grief. Instead, there were just a few words of gratitude said around a small fire. In the coming days the men would carve primitive stones with the royal crest to mark for only those who knew what they were looking for, where the great King and Queen were at final rest.
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