It was almost three o'clock in the afternoon, and Allendrie was bored. He was bored, beginning at the royal mediations, and through the Senate meetings. Boredom seemed to be all there was to his life. The one time during the day that he wasn't bored was during combat training. “Unfortunately,” he thought, “being the Prince Heir, I only get to train an hour each day.” He sat there, lost in thought, ignoring the tutor until his time was over. Then he dragged himself, thoroughly depressed, to his last tutor, envying his brother, the Prince General. “How I wish we could switch places.” He finally made it to his last tutor five minutes late and sat down with an annoyed sigh. “Only one more hour to go until freedom.”
"But why, Father?” screamed the Prince General Selphrin “Why must that irresponsible little brat have the claim to your title, when I am the best choice?"
"Now, now, my son. It is law that the first-born child of a reigning Dewvron emperor shall claim the throne upon his father's death. Thus you are each being trained for your future positions." reassured Emperor Doskrin. Selphrin glared angrily at this father.
"But you are the Emperor, Father! Why can you not change this law? You have the power to do so easily!"
"If I were to do so, the people would not like it." Said Emperor Doskrin uncomfortably.
"But you control the people, Father. They are but pawns in your power!"
"And that belief is exactly why that particular law will not change during my rule. You will have to learn one day that the people control the government, not the other way around." Said Emperor Doskrin, trying to teach his son a lesson.
"Foolishness, Father. The strong rule and the weak serve! I'm sure that one day you'll see that I'm right, and you will wish that you were stronger." With that, Selphrin flared his cape and stormed out of the room.
Two hours passed, and Allendrie emerged from the combat room looking happy with a wide grin on his face, and proceeded to dinner with his father. "Ah, there you are, my boy. How were today's studies, Allendrie?" interrogated his father.
"Horribly uninteresting as usual, Father. I can't see how you lived through it when you were my age."
"Have faith my son, you will make it through.” Said Doskrin with a knowing grin. “Now where is your brother? He's late, as usual." As if on cue, Selphrin marched into the dining hall with his usual overdramatic flair. Strangely, though, he was accompanied by three other men. Allendrie studied these men as they entered. The first entered with almost as much flair as Selphrin, every once in awhile tossing his blonde hair back with a shake of his head. The second dressed in a black robe and hood, and the only other determinable thing Allendrie could tell was his height. The third was a young looking man with long brown hair. He was the only one of the three to carry a weapon: a scythe-like blade that Allendrie could not identify.
The three or them stayed behind Selphrin as he approached his father. "Father, I have decided that today shall be the day that I spoke of. The day that you will see how the strong rule, the weak suffer." Selphrin withdrew from his coat a slender pistol. Allendrie nearly choked on his wine.
"You can't bring that in here! It's forbidden!" Allendrie said in shock.
"That was under our foolish father's rule. Now the law is mine to control!" The Prince General aimed the pistol at his father's head and fired. Blood sprang forth from the center of Doskrin's head like a black fountain. He collapsed onto the table, splattering blood everywhere. "My generals," said Selphrin, “kill the guards who will not follow me. Detain my brother."
Hearing this, Allendrie leapt into action, drawing his sword and charging for his traitorous brother. The blonde man intercepted with a blue broadsword that came from seemingly nowhere. The man in red flanked right towards a group of Royal Guards that were drawing their weapons. Allendrie became locked in combat with the blonde man, unable to break away for a strike at his brother, who was standing calmly in the same spot with the cloaked man still behind him. Block, block, parry, block, strike; his meager training chose the moves for him, and he knew the blonde man was the better fighter. Allendrie knew he still had the edge, though, as the blonde man was trying to disable, but Allendrie was going for the kill. His opponent quickly found the answer, though, with a quick strike to Allendrie's left, severing his arm.
His screams of pain brought a satisfied grin to Selphrin's face. The young Prince Heir dropped his sword in defeat, and the blonde man retreated to his post behind Selphrin, where his sword simply dissolved into thin air. The man in red finished the decapitation of the last Royal Guard a few seconds later and returned to Selphrin as well. The Prince General approached his brother. "Now, Allendrie, I'm a fairly generous man, so I'll give you a fair deal in this matter. If you give up all claim to the throne, and leave the palace immediately, I'll allow you to continue living."
"I have no choice then brother." He said the word like a curse. "I have to accept your offer."
"Very well, then. Damien, take care of his arm and give him back his sword. Then escort him to the edge of town." The man in red, Damien, immediately followed his master's orders without a word, cleaning the stump where Allendrie's arm had once been and taking him to the edge of town. Allendrie began a slow walk into the forests surrounding the Capital.
As he walked, he wondered what would become of his life, what he would do. He suddenly noticed the dampness in his hair. He touched his hand to his forehead, and when it came back red, he knew that it was his father's blood. He now knew what he must do with his life. Drawing his sword, he knelt and spoke to the silent forest.
"I, Allendrie Merdoon, rightful Emperor of Dewvron, do hereby swear upon my father's blood that I will reclaim his throne, no matter what the cost."
Little did he know just how much he would sacrifice to keep this pledge.