Young Writers Society

Ulta | Market

I hung there watching as market life moved around me. What was I going to do? I knew no-one was going to help me, I'd betrayed or killed too many people... Then I saw her. The temple maiden. The one I'd actually gotten along with, I gathered air in my broken lungs to out to her but stopped. It was her mistress who had betrayed me, what's to say she hadn't been sent to torment me? It was at that moment she walked over to me, she made it look as if she was only in passing but paused next to me.
"Oh, Ulta" She whispered, "What has happened to you?" Cara looked almost depressed to see me. I wondered wether she was sad to see me still alive or a spark of our old friendship still burned within her. "Well no matter, I'm going to look after you? Do you have place to stay?" She isn't here to torment me? No, I must be imagining this. But it's Cara, I shouuld be able to trust her. Even if she was a figment of my imagination. So I indulged in my fantasy. Weakly my head bobbled, indicating a nod.
"Good. I have influence with some of the guards, they'll bring you too me tonight. From there we can go to your place." She spoke in hushed tones so that others could not hear.
"You're a Temple Maiden still." It wasn't a question but she nodded anyway, "Wait at the Temple, there will be a boy and a girl arriving soon I think," panting for breath I continued, "They're 'bout our age. Send them away, tell them 'Ulta says go and meat at tenth on the left', promise me Cara. Come to me only once you've done what I've asked, you owe me that much." There was a short but eternal pause before she answered.
"I promise Ulta, just say alive for me, okay?" Again my head bobbled. She glided away into the crowd, hopefully to the Temple before Aodán got there.

OCC; Okay Betheny here is your rescue

Lynx | Market Square

She was silent. Not a word passed her lips as people hurled insults and taunts at her. Some even threw rotten vegetables that tumbled through the air and broke open when they hit her. Sour and rotten smells wafted through the air, and still she stood silent. Her face turned down as little rivulets of blood traced their way down her face. The clothes she wore had probably been nice once. Now the dress was torn and ragged. Streaks of soot and dirt marred the once pristine fabric, and large holes showed the bruises on her skin. The cold iron shackles were tight, and her skin was already beginning to chafe and bleed.

Captain Oswald stared at the pitiful creature before him, a sneer of disgust written plainly on his regal face as he twirled his pencil thin mustache. One of the guards who stood watching the girl was staring at a small piece of paper that the Captain was holding, a look of bewilderment on the guard’s face. “But we were told to keep her here all night,” the young guard stuttered as he motioned toward the girl.

Captain Oswald fixed his icy glare on the young guard. “Do I look like I care what you were told before?” the Captain snapped. The young guard gulped nervously and opened his mouth to protest but Oswald cut him off, “I don’t want any of your blithering excuses! You will do as you’re command, and the next time you question a senior officer I will have you court marshaled! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!” Oswald was basically screaming now, spittle flew from his lips as he menacingly got closer to the guard.

“I understand, Captain,” the guard nervously replied, “I meant no disrespect sir!” he quickly pulled out a key and began to unlock the chains that bound the young girl. She didn’t even move as the last shackle holding her arm up fell away. The guard quickly undid her feet as well, and with a small gasp the girl slowly toppled forward.

Oswald was barley able to catch her, a look of disgust on his face. “Help me!” he snapped to the guard, “Before she gets my uniform dirty.” The guard fumbled forward, and together they set the prisoner down on the ground. “Give her some water, and be quick about it!” Oswald snapped.

The guard nodded and pulled out a small canteen of water. Together they held it up to the girl’s face and she began to suck down the cool liquid with greedy slurps. “Easy now,” Oswald warned, “The last thing I need is for you to throw up all over me.” The girl didn’t pay any heed, but the guard who had been watching her looked incredibly nervous. He stood their, fidgeting with his hands, unsure what to do about the whole situation. “You are free to go soldier,” Oswald barked, “Report to your commanding officer for a new assignment!”

The young soldier looked relieved to get out of there and in seconds he was gone. Oswald leaned in next to the girl as she continued to drink the water, “I need you to stay calm my lady,” he whispered, his soft voice tickling her ear. “For all intents and purposes you are my prisoner and I need you to act like such. By the way, if you grab that dagger I will stab you.” Her hand, which had been going for the dagger on Oswald’s belt, froze and slowly backed off. “That’s better,” he said with a thin smile. “Now can you stand?”

“Yes,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Good,” Oswald whispered, “Now follow me. I will do my best to support you, but you need to walk on your own for at least a few blocks. This needs to be convincing, got it?” She nodded, and slowly stood, Oswald close behind her as he began to lead her off. “Hurry up you murdering whore,” he snapped as he shoved her. He didn’t push that hard, but she was so weak it was easy to make it look convincing.

Minutes later they were out of the market square and marching down a dark alley. Oswald paused beside a part of the wall and did something the girl couldn’t see. Seconds later part of the wall slid open and he pulled out a few large, grey cloaks. “This one’s for you,” the captain said as he tossed her a cloak. “Put it on quick.” His voice had changed. It was no longer rough and commanding, but now sounded almost foreign with a bit of an accent. He quickly undid the braid in his hair and pulled off his Captain’s jacket and pants. Next he stripped off the moustache and his shirt, pulling out another change of clothes and slipping them on along with the cloak.

Seconds later a completely different person stood in front of the girl. “My name,” the man said with a lopsided grin, “is not Captain Oswald in case you were wondering. You may call me Lynx. I have a place for us to stay, a small little dump in a not so well loved district of the city. On the bright side it is warm and we can work out some things.”

The young girl just stood there stiffly, eyeing the man before her with a mix of curiosity and caution. “What do you want?” she asked softly.

“All in time my good dear,” Lynx whispered as he swung one of her arms around his shoulder so she could lean on him. He pulled the hood of his cloak up and the two left the alley way, two out of a hundred figures disappearing into the stream of people in the city.

*DELETED* Sorry i double posted.

(sorry I have been MIA. If I have done anything that messes with characters or plot tell me and I will gladly edit!)

Hector/Palace:

I walked quickly down the cold halls, my boots making a militaristic tapping on the dark flagstones. I had risen late that morning and was now late for a council meeting. they wanted to discuss my succession to the throne.

What was there to talk about? I wondered darkly, I could feel my brows furrow. I was the crown prince and by law, and birthright I was meant to be crowned. But those old vultures all wanted something for themselves. they all hoped I would pick on of them to be regent- the hell I would!

I passed my mothers cousin and serving woman- Lady Lana in the hall, and would have passed her by without notice, except we were far form mothers chambers. She nodded at me and would have gone on but I grabbed her arm.

"Lana why aren't you with my mother? It is late, you should be attending to her." I didn't mean to sound harsh and if i did Lana took no notice. She smiled gently and repositioned some things she had in her arms- my mothers cane and favorite shawl. I looked form those items to Lana's face and I could feel the color drain form my face.

"Lana where is the queen?" I asked flatly, dreading her answer.

"She is in the council chambers, she would get up this morning." she said fretfully. I swore under my breath.
Mother was in no condition to be out of her bed! let alone deal with the councilmen who would continually bring up my fathers death. I picked up my pace.

I arrived at the doors to the great hall, and before the guards could open them, pushed through them myself. I strode into the hall hoping I looked as though I had the confidence I was sorely lacking. I walked to the center of the rooms where the chairs for the high nobles were placed. mother was sitting rigidly in hers looking pale and warn. I went to her and bending down gave her a peck on her cheek.

"You shouldn't be here mother," I whispered so no one else could hear. "You are not well enough to be out of bed. the healers told me yesterday that you needed absolute rest and peace, you weren't to be upset or disturbed in any way. Please go back to bed, I can handle this on my own." she gave me one of the looks she used on father many a time.

"Oh hush child I'm not dead yet. I'm perfectly well enough to sit here, stop acting like I am a china doll." I smiled, she was so stubborn sometimes. I gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze then moved to my chair.

When I was almost at my old place I thought better of it, changed directions, and sat down in fathers gilded char. A ripple of horrified whispers went thought the gathered assembly. Mother gave me a surprised but not displeased look. I stared defiantly at the council.

If it was a fight they wanted today, I would give them hell.

....

(again many thanks DSF)

Ulta | Back Alley's

Captain Oswald? Or Lynx? I din't know which to believe. He'd been so convincing as 'Captain Oswald' how did I know this face wasn't the lie? I was rather pathetic looking underneath the grey cloak he had given me, and I was too weak to try and slip away. I'd been quiet for the majority of the walk, every now and then crying out in pain when I had been jostled too much. My 'rescuer', if you could call him that, supported most of my weight so that he was almost carring me. What does he want? Quick ask now!
"What do you want?" I asked sounding so usless it was embarrassing.
"As I said befor, all in good time my dear." I found his syrupy sweet voice agravating, he had to have a hidden agenda. He just had to. He is handsom though. No shut up! I snapped at myself, how could I have just thought that?!
"Wait, slow down-"
"We couldn't go any slower if we tried sweetheart," He interupted. Gods I wanted to cut that smirk off of his face. But his lips... came a small cry of protest from within me.
"We're in lower side. Leave me here, I'll find my own way to safety now thank you," I tried to pull away but he kept a soft but firm hold around my waist.
"You're not going anywhere, beautiful," he whispered into my ear "You have to pay me back yet. And do you really think that you can get anywhere by yourself? I mean look at you!" Just then he let go of me and pushed me away. Only to prove his point my legs gave way, making me a crumpled mess on the floor. "No, you're not going anywhere." The soft edge in his voice had been replaced with a dark and sinester tone. Roughly he dragged me to my feet and we set off walking again.
"Fine," I said sulkily, "Do you at least know anything about a place called 'Assassin's Alley'?"
"Oh, I hear things. Why?" That overly sweet tone was back.
"I want you to- I would like you to take me there," I knew demands wouldn't get me anywhere with this man, "The tenth on the left. We have entre through the back door though."
"My dear, that sounds like fun. You want to ambush me? Hold a dagger to my throat? You may want to give that back by the way." Damn, I thought he hadn't noticed.
"Please," I begged. Good Gods I felt so unclean even being next to this man. "I promised a friend I would meet him there." With a reluctant sigh he nodded.
"I am a sucker for beautiful women."

Appologies. Silly thing double posted

Kosey | Outside the palace

The sense of familiarity hit him in the chest again, this time it was stronger. Kosey was out here because he had no say in council meetings. He may be practically family to Hector and the Queen, but Kosey was never allowed to attend council. He didn't mind that at all. He always had better things to do while Hector attended council. Out in the courtyard where he and Hector first met when Kosey was seven, the one place he often visited to take a small stroll through his memory. Here, the presence of a twin was somehow at the strongest. He touched the hilts of his sais, ready to attack and defend himself for his own sake and Hector's.
A strange lad jolted out of the bushes with daggers in hand. Kosey almost thought he was looking at a mirror. The lad was all too similar to him- the pale skin, dark hair, and moss-green eyes. For almost ten minutes, the lads just stared at each other in the eye, weapons still out in case either one chanced to attack. Kosey had to be sure what he was up against. He asked, "When were you born?"
The lad answered, "I will be twenty in the coming winter."
Kosey was taken aback by this, but it didn't stop him from asking more questions. "What element do you control?"
"Mainly ice, but I also control earth until winter comes around."
"Were you trained to fight?"
"Vigorously since as far as I can remember."
Kosey was surprised, but he had one last question: "What is your name and what kind are you?"
"My name is Climalsi, but others call me the Fox. I am half elf."
Kosey almost choked. Could this lad be the twin that Kosey had longed to meet? He put his sais away and went to the garden to clear his mind, leaving a confused Climalsi in the courtyard.

Alycia | Temple

We lead Mistress back to where we saw the two, but they were long gone. Aisha looked discouraged by this, but I felt all too relieved for the time being. Mistress rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. First the missing temple maidens, now this. "Go to you rooms, girls. I'll deal with this." She waved her hand dismissively.

"But Mistress!" Aisha protested, but the mistress looked back at us with a hard glare. I felt my cheeks flush with realization. Aisha gave up her protects and followed me to the rooms. My eyes didn't peel off the floor the entire time we walked, and I could feel myself shaking in my boots. Literally. It felt like I had a ton of cotton in the back of my throat, restricting my breathing and sending me into a small panic. I felt a hand on my shoulder, stopping me right before we could enter the room. "Aly, are you alright?"

I didn't think, I just shrugged her off my shoulder and flatly said "No." I stood there, staring at her for a moment. Neither of us said anything. She finally opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her short once again. "We just saw and heard something we were never meant to see or hear. If they find out it was us who exposed them to mistress we have no idea what might happen." I covered my mouth and looked at the ground. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk to you like that."

I let out a shuddery breath and hugged Aisha, whether she liked it or not didn't seem to matter in that moment. I needed it and she was the only available person for it. "I'm scared, Aisha."

OCC: If no one cares I am going to get the whole Council business rolling…

Nhara Alamea | Council Chambers

Pride was a fault some said, but Nhara was feeling it in spades at the moment as she watched Hector take his father’s seat. She gave him a proud smile as the rustle of voices filled the room. Well done my son, she thought, Show them who you are meant to be.

As the room quieted General Aban slowly stood to his feet and moved to the center. He raised his hands for silence, and was greeted with a hush. “Lords and Ladies of the land, thank you for coming here. As many of you know we are here to honor the death of a monarch, and celebrate the birth of a new one.” A soft rustle of whispers filled the hall but General Aban kept talking anyway. “Before you sits the widowed Queen Nhara, and beside her the Crown Prince Hector of Asyra. We are here on the matter of succession. As you all know the succession is automatic, except when the ability of the Prince is in question. We have three petitioners here with us today. The first is Lord Vyren, Duke of Lodonvale, and Guardian of the Barren Peaks.”

A polite applause greeted the Duke as he stood up and strode forward. He was a heavy set man with a barrel chest and a sweeping moustache. His bald head sparkled with sweat, and he held a small white clothe which he used to dab away the moisture that kept falling from his face.

Nhara leaned over to Hector and whispered, “You are doing well so far my son. Make sure you watch what happens here closely, this is where your true friends and enemies will be revealed. Lord Vyren is a friend, and first most among the supporters who wish for your immediate rise to the throne.”

Hector nodded and Lord Vyren stood up. His heavy jowls quivered as he took a deep breath and launched into a thunderous speech. Most of it was pointless, but Nhara paid special attention to each part that mentioned a certain Lord or Lady who supported Hector’s claim. Vyren droned on for nearly half an hour, about how worthy Hector was, how he was a mature and thoughtful leader, and how it was disgraceful from them to stand in the way of his birthright. Nhara was touched by some of the words, but knew that they meant little in this room.

As Vyren took his seat General Aban stepped up again and said, “Thank you Lord Vyren. The next petitioner is Lady Morya, Countess of Stockenwood, and heir to Thornwall.” Another polite applause sounded as a small lady made her way forward. She wore an elegant white dress that highlighted her curves, and a brilliant pair of diamond ear rings, matched by a sparkling necklace. She glided forward and as she took her place she began to speak.

“Listen to what she says, “Nhara whispered as she leaned close to Hector. “She is the leader of those who think you may have had a hand in your father’s death.” She could feel Hector’s revulsion at such a thought, but he kept it hidden from his face. You truly are becoming a man, she thought wistfully as she gave him an appraising look.

“My Lords and Ladies of the Council,” Lady Morya began. “Never before, in the history of our great land has a Monarch been killed in his own home. Our beloved King was struck down, and not only do the killers still remain free, but now the Prince seeks to be set upon the throne immediately! Our concern is not only the matter of succession, but also a cry for justice. The King’s killers still walk amongst this hall, and so far we can see little has been done to find out who, and why they killed him. We want to know why the Royal Family has been holding back on investigating this crime? Why are they so intent on crowning Hector before the murders are caught and brought to justice? We have no problem with Hector being crowned King, however we see that the priorities are being misplaced. Justice should be served, and investigation should be undertaken, and if Hector’s innocence is proven and the murder caught,” she paused for a second, looking at everyone in the room. “If he is proved innocence, then let him be crowned!”

A roar when up through the audience chamber. Some cried out in approval, while others screamed at the heartlessness of it all. Nhara didn’t say, or show anything. She just sat there, looking regal and calm as Lady Morya turned to walk away. That foolish woman, Nhara thought, this country needs a leader, and every second we put that off makes us look weaker in the eyes of all those around us!

“She may be a problem mother,” Hector whispered, a smile still plastered on his face, even though she could feel him seething.

“More so then I thought,” Nhara agreed, slightly impressed that her son had picked up on that. “I was under the impression that her supporters were fewer in number and that their petition was more… radical of nature. Pausing the succession for an investigation sounds reasonable to most, and we may have trouble getting enough supporters to over rule that. I will need to meet with Lady Moyra and see how strong her loyalties are. She has a few daughters, maybe she could be persuaded to switch sides for a… royal wedding.” She gave Hector a cautious look and the young prince blanched for a moment.

“I… well…,” he muttered, trying to compose himself, “If you think that would be best.”

“I’m interested in what you think,” Nhara said pointledly, “think on it, it may be the answer to winning the crown.”

She paused as General Aban got up again. “Our last Petition is brought by Lord Weircliff, Duke of Weiden, Lord of the Forgotten Forest, and Guardian of the western waters.”

Another smattering of applause greeted the pencil thin man who came forward. He was all decked out in silks and robes, and the swishing sound of clothe followed his every step. He stepped forward, and once things quieted down he began to speak. “First off, I would like to offer my most humblest sympathies to Queen Nhara and Prince Hector.” He motioned over to the two of them and said, “We all loved your husband, and he will not be easily replaced. Now as many of you know we feel a regent should be appointed as Hector is still young. We have already selected someone we believe to be acceptable for such a postion. A most honorable man, with integrity, and strength that will help see Asyra pull out of this dark time and head forward, toward a brighter future. We have asked him to speak today, please welcome General Tarasel.”

The smile froze on Nhara’s lips. She felt the color drain from her face, and for a moment she thought she would faint. Hector gripped her hand and whispered, “Mother, mother are you all right?”

She gave him a weak smile and nodded. “I’m fine don’t worry.” But she wasn’t. A deep feeling of dread filled her stomach as she watched the General stand, a huge smile on his face. He bowed as the room filled with applause. How can this be, she thought, Of all people why him!

OOC: MWAHAHAHAHA! Hope this is okay. Thought it would be fun to have a few sides, plus get the whole power struggle going. I figured the council would eventually vote on what way to go in a couple of days or so. Which would give us time to talk to different characters, and work some things out. Who knows, maybe some people will even get assassinated...

I saw Nhara's horrified gaze- she had no idea I tried to kill her- I realized.
Hector's fists were clenched and white, and his jaws were very powerfully attached.
There was a sound of applause as I got up, I already were quite popular amongst most- they had no idea I despised them and they're ill gotten wealth.
"thank you Lord Weircliff- I appreciate your kind remarks." I started.
Dear council, I would like to begin with the ridiculous, wild speculation- that young Hector killed his father"- I grinned as lady's morya face changed colours and puffed, airless-"There is no way young Hector killed the late king- and not me or my respected compatriot"- I nodded at Aban- "will hear more of this- I hope that is clear, the boy lost his father, give him some rest!"
Hector, Aban and Nhara stared at me, shocked, they expected other things- I assume.
"But, I think you do need some time to rest, to grieve properly"- I addressed Hector directly now- "You lost your father, you shouldn't be dealing with all these responsibilities, troubles, and mostly"- I looked defiantly around the room- "some of the vultures here. What I offer-" I said, surpassing the great noise surrounding me- "is to help you, to take these burdens while you can grieve peacefully and respectfully. Further more, although I disagree with some of the council members' speculations, I can't say they don't exist- you have a lot of citizens outside these walls, your highness, and a lot of them are very confused as to your father's death, it might be a smarter step to be seen mourning rather than taking his place until this ghastly matter is solved."
Hector rose, cheeks flaming- "Do you suggest I should hide from my own people?! I am as innocent as one could be- and I am my father's heir! Why should I let go of his kingdom?!"- He then realized his sudden outburst, and sat silently- " I apologize, I'm just so very stressed."
"Precisely. You shouldn't be hiding, but taking the throne immediately might seem... disrespectful, suspicious in the eyes of the not so well informed. I'm aware of the existence of certain rumours about me as well, but I am the servant of the crown- I can live with those- while you, the future king, shouldn't- or you'll be shadowed by these unkind rumours for all your time as a king. An old henchman's reputation is expandable, a young master's one is priceless. You should mourn and rest- and be seen mourning and resting, then, after a year or two- you could take your throne smoothly."- I gestured my hand, as if offering him a handshake- "please, I have served your father for so long, trust me to serve you too."

I looked into his eyes. Aban, beside me, squirmed unconvinced, my logic was clear- Hector was no fool, he could have seen it, I hoped his stubbornness won't blind him...

Ulta | 'Assassin's' Alley Hide Out

I felt like a broken doll. Something a child had carelessly dropped then trapmled on several thousand times. I was stood in the back room with a jug of water desperatly trying to get clean. It was difficult to say the least, because every time the damp cloth passed over my body I winced in pain. Huge an purple bruises were already beginning to show. With most the muck removed I hesitently put the brush to my tangled mess of hair. I could hear Lynx potering about in the other room, picking things up, putting some down. Suprisingly the brush went through my hair rather easily, althoguh I had my work cut out trying to get all the leaves out of it... The dress I had been wearing was completely destroyed and was no longer of any use to me. All I had left were my old Temple Maiden robes. With some reluctance I pulled them on, trying not think about the memories attached to them. Carefully I hopped and hobbled into the other room. Eyebrows raised, Lynx asked: "An assassin gone Temple Maiden?"
"From times gone by" Was all I said in return. Just then we heard a knocking at the door down stairs.

Aisha | Temple:

Aly was scared. Aisha shouldn't be surprised. She sighed and hugged Aly back. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pulled back enough to meet the other Maiden's gaze. "I am too, Aly," she whispered. Aly buried her face in Aisha's shoulder. Aisha held onto her friend and closed her eyes again. Aly was...freaking out. She supposed she was too.

Suddenly, Aisha pulled away and tugged Aly into the room. Footsteps echoed down the hall as the door clicked shut. They were in Aisha's room. She put an ear to the wooden door and listened. The footsteps grew louder and then paused right outside their door. Aisha held her breathe and waited. A moment later, the footsteps started up again and faded away. She let out a sigh and pushed away from the door.

When she turned around, Aly was looking at her. "I think someone might be searching the temple..."

"F-for us?" Aly whispered. Aisha shook her head and dropped to sit on her bed. She fingered the blankets before looking up.

"I don't know," she whispered back. "But they sure seem to be looking for something."

General Aban | Council Chambers

Aban remained silent for a moment, awaiting Prince Hector's response. The boy did not, thank the gods, seem at all convinced. Aban, for one, agrees with the look on the lad's face. Hector did not require a regent, and though Aban's fellow general had made some very valid points, he was still uncomfortable with the matter. But how to voice his thoughts so that they sounded convincing enough that the council followed? Tarasel had always been better with words than Aban.

He shifted once more before rising, holding his hands up for silence. The cheers had not come yet, and they wouldn't until either Tarasel was named Regent or stepped down, but the buzz of excited conversation was loud enough. He was unsure if what he was to say, but something would surely come out if he tried hard enough, wouldn't it?

"Thank you, General Tarasel, for your enlightening input." The general nodded and seated himself, much to Aban's relief. He looked back to the council members, expression as serious as ever. Perhaps he would have attempted a smile, had he not been so sure that it would look more like a disgusted sneer. "Now, if I may make my own input, I would be most gratified." He awaited the Queen' nod of approval before continuing. She seemed as against this as he.

"Although my fellow general has made some excellent points, and I respect his opinion to the fullest, I can't say that I share it. In fact, I believe that there was only one topic that he breached with which I agree. Our Prince Hector had no part in his father's... passing. This should be explicitly obvious to all members of out council." He shot a stony look at the Lady who had spoken against her prince. "I was, debatably, one of the King's most loyal servants- and yes, I do consider myself as nothing but such- and so, it would stand to reason that I know what loyalty looks like. Our prince was the perfect image of such loyalty.

"Now, before I begin to ramble on about that... sensitive topic, I will delve into what I had meant to say in the first place. I believe, and I will not be swayed on this, that Prince Hector is in every way ready to take the crown. He is a confident, strong-willed and strong-minded man, no longer the boy we used to see waddling about the palace gardens with our Queen and the palace servants, and it would make more sense to stop treating him as such." An idea, a mental image if sorts, came to mind. Aban started to pace slowly, driven by his desire to see the prince crowned.

"When a peasant boy loses his father, do they say to those loyal or friendly to them, 'Take up my plough and finish the harvest for me-'? Of course not! Only that peasant boy would know, or have the best idea of, what his father would want, and how his father would wish to govern and run their farm. There is no time to be idle and mourn, or their family and their future will suffer for it. Not only that, but in their work, they may mourn and feel close to their deceased loved one. Those hands use the same tools as the hands of the one who aided in conceiving him, they toil in the same field and grow weary under the same son. There is a connection there, and it should be considered a sacred one."

He paused, allowing both the council and himself to absorb it all. He was growin more excited, more passionate of his cause. The words that had just poured through his mouth would never have come had he not wished this for the prince so badly. As soon as he had gained composure once again, he continued. He would not allow there to be questions until after he was finished.

"Primce Hector is the boy, the throne his plough, and this kingdom his family. He will feel the weight of stress, but so would the peasant boy, or the lord or the lady or whomever was in a situation similar to this. He will need to mourn, yes, but the connection between father and son must be maintained, and the sorrow will cease at some point or another. He may weep and lament while alone, but the need to be where his father was will eventually override the need to sob because he is no longer with us. The entire kingdom has been shaken by hi death, but life in out city does not cease.

"And if it is this marvelous boy's safety that we are afraid for, then I will personally see to it that a hand-picked selection of out most loyal gaurds are protecting him at all times. I myself will gladly be honored with the task of putting my life on the lines for our Prince- or should I say our King?" He bit the last word off, eyes now narrowed at the people before them. "Regent or none, that is what I shall call him. King Hector- because even i there is another on the throne-" he shot a glance, not unkind but every bit hard, at General Tarasel- "it is Hector that would have deserved the title."

He went back to his seat, pausing for a moment to turn to Hector. There was just barely the ghost of a smile on Aban's face as he spoke. "My Prince, an now my honorary King, I have full confidence in you and your abilities to rule this kingdom. If you shoul allow it, I will serve you just as I served my father, and not by taking your positilon from you." With that he sat down, thousands if thoughts whirring through his mind. Already, there were his own recommendations of what he would go back and change if he could, the hope that he hadn't gone on for too long or let his passion for the matter show too much, the greater hope that he had convinced their council, and the knowledge that this was the most that his adoration and loyalty for Hector had ever shone through. Hopefully, the boy knew just how sincere he was about all of it.

...

Hector/Palace:

I took a deep breath, and in the pause that followed General Abans's booming voice, I thought about what he had said.
I smiled at him- the old bulldog.

"Thank you my friend." I said quietly. I took a deep breath stood up and prayed I would say the right thing.

"General Tarasel, I appreciate your offer, it is truly a kind one, and I would love nothing more than to step aside and let you do what you offer." I paused, General Aban and my mother sent me shocked glances, "But I can't allow you to do that." I continued my voice growing louder.

"I trust you fully General Tarasel and I understand all you say, it has much merit. You have been my fathers closest friend for years, he called you his hearts brother. I know you have only the countries, and my own interest in mind. That is why I cannot allow you to step into my fathers place. I know you are more than willing to bare my burdens, but they are just that-my burdens. My father entrusted me with the care and safekeeping of the realm, and I intend to do just that, as its king."

I strode out from behind the table, I needed to make sure I commanded attention, I was going to play my cards.

"Everything that has been said here hold merit, and I thank all those who have spoken both for and against me. I know I am young, but I not a child! My father had been grooming me since birth to take his place when he was gone, and though I never thought it would be so soon," I trailed off, but then regained myself.

"The fact of the matter remains, I am still here, and he is not. My grief is great but I will not let it consume me. I will not let myself become weak, let others shoulder the load that is my own." I stopped to breath then changed tack.

"We are in a critical position my lords and ladies. Our enemies are hounding us, like wolves to a fallen stag. War threatens us on all our borders. And the longer we stand idle, the longer we stand inactive, the weaker we will look. We need to stop all of this- Alamea needs our support right now! I would gladly shed my blood in her defense, I ask only for your help, your support." I made my way back to my seat and silently took it, waiting for their answer.

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(as always if I messed something up character or plot wise tell me and I will edit.)