A Tale of Two Kings Ch. 1: A Fools Tall Tales

“Dark shadows swept the lands as the last ray of light disappeared behind the mountains. No longer were the beasts of the night held back by the sun’s warm barrier. Their territory now expanded beyond the caves and shadows of the mountains in which they hid. Every night grew longer as the years went on. Raids and murders became more frequent, and strength was returned to the ones held prisoners by light.

As time went on days became night, but never again did the sun shine as it once did. Its bright rays that lit the tops of trees a beautiful red-orange as it rose, now only left a dim light, as if looking through a blanket of fog.

A routine was created by the villagers. Doors locked, stores closed, and streets empty before the sun’s remaining light disappeared, only to be taken over by a thick eerie darkness.

These times went on for centuries, until memories of light became fairy tales. And this is how we lived, and still live.” The soft pitter-patter of rain could be heard hitting against the stone wall, as two pairs of wide eyes stared in disbelief at the old man’s story.

“Is it true grandfather? Did the sun really shine bright enough to scare all those monsters?” It was the older of the two small boys sitting at their grandfather’s feet who spoke.

“Oh yes. The warm rays were like a prison to them, keeping them in their caves and up in the mountains,” he responded pointing a crooked finger towards the North, where the mountains called Malorock stood only a few miles from the villages that surrounded their kingdom.

“But they can’t get in right?” now it was the youngest who spoke. His amber eyes reflecting fear and worry as his small hands held tight to his brother’s arm.

“There is nothing for the two of you to worry about. Any beast with a capable mind knows that all of there kind who enters here will not get far. Your father is one of the greatest worriers and kings of our time. And the two of you, along with your mother, are his life.”

It was this that crossed his mind as Lurick stared down at the very same village.

“Foolish old man, if he was such a great worrier then why was he so easily struck down?” he whispered to himself, but the only response he received was a gust of wind form the East.

With a swift flick of his wrist, he threw back the hood of his cloak. His spiked black hair was short and remained untouched by the winds that seemed to grow stronger.

Lurick was young and handsome. Much like his father, he was tall and slender with broad shoulders, his figure hidden beneath layers of black. These features were the only reminder of his mortal half, but his elvish blood ran deep. Although his build resembled that of a young soldier, his face held all the qualities of a Navilian elf. The pointed ears, square jaw, and amber eyes were the only physical resemblance to his immortal mother.

Lurick stood on one of the highest ledges of Malorock, his sight resting upon familiar details. Perhaps the information he came in search of wasn’t worth facing this part of his past, but he had already traveled too far to turn back empty handed.

After all, how many villagers would be able to recognize him? Although his face remained much the same, he himself had changed. He was no longer the foolish, naïve boy he once was many years ago. His face still held the faint glow of his elvish blood, but a distinct trace of a brutal childhood made his features hard and cold.

He was dead to them, as they were to him