Okay, here's the prologue. For anyone who has read the short story just scroll past it as there is a prologue for this story line too.... Side note: I like writing this better than the reincarnation one ---------------------------- With eyes that held emptiness similar to space, he had stared at the scenery. It all seemed so superficial now. It didn’t make any sense at all. He had everything he wanted so why? Why did he feel as though a hole had been thoroughly carved in his soul? Why did he not feel….. gratified? He sat on the throne, conquered his enemies, and solidified his place in history. So why did he wish that he could take it all back? Why did he want to change what he did? Closing his eyes, he pondered for a short while. Never once did he feel that…. anything was as important as power. Why would he take a wife when all the women in the kingdom were at his beck and call? What was left to do now that everything had been taken? Who could stand by his side when all held fear towards him? It wasn’t like this in the past, it shouldn’t have been like this now. He thought that just maybe, he would have enjoyed life more if he had taken the job given to him by his father. By now, he should have had a wife, kids, and a stable income. He should have had happiness. So why was he led astray by his greed? Why did he perceive that his family held him back? Why did he take them for granted and discard them? As usual though, no answers presented themselves. he had gone through this many times but he couldn’t understand his younger self. He was now sifting through the memories he had stored. The feelings he had drawn and actions he had taken. It was sad really, an old man on his deathbed regretted most every choice he made. If only he could go back in time and redo everything. He couldn’t obviously. This wasn’t some fantasy novel. This was real life and when you acted, you must deal with the consequences. As a young man, he was filled with vigor, passion even. A promising young lad that wanted to forge his way into the history books. With a sword in one hand, a shield in the other, and an army at his beck and call. It was nigh-impossible to foresee this ending. An ending filled with the smoke of war and the blood of the innocent. An ending where happiness was not the common thing it once was. An ending where the normal thing to do was struggle. He hadn’t made anything better. He had only destroyed everything he strived to perfect. His reign was near it’s end and he could only hope that the next ruler would fix his mistakes. Breathing deeply, his eyes bulged momentarily as he broke into a coughing fit. His condition was rapidly deteriorating, he didn’t have much time left. Even considering that though, he felt the same as always. No one was around to care for him as usual. The quiet was his only company. He laid not as a king, but as an old man, decrepit and calm. Too many, he could be considered ancient. He had been lucky to survive so long. With that lifespan however, came endless remorse. Once, he was a young man that felt unkillable. No one could suppress him, he was undefeated. Now though, he was only an old man with enough regrets to fill a sea. No children to take over, no wife to stand by his side. Nothing but a remnant of what he used to be. With one last breath, he closed his eyes for the last time and thus, the reign under the Tragic King had ended. ______________________________ In areas across the land, many were rejoicing. The smarter ones however, were preparing. Preparing for a war that would no doubt last years, maybe even decades. The war might even live on with the next few generations. The previous king was dead, died of old age. Some were glad that the old bastard had finally kicked the bucket, others however, weren’t as pleased as most would expect. They very much enjoyed the peace of their current life. Wars? There hadn’t been a single one since the entire continent was conquered. A feat that many had attempted but only one had succeeded. Poverty? All kingdoms had poverty no matter how anyone ruled. It was always going to be like that so why criticize it now? In fact, not even small revolts had happened because of the fear that was felt towards the olden king. He was a born and bred conqueror. Standing in his path was just a pipe dream but as with all things, time triumphed over everything. He was an uncrossable mountain that was whittled away by countless storms until finally, he was destroyed. In his destruction however, countless boulders took his place. How many would rise up with the intention to become king? How much of this single empire would be converted into countless kingdoms, all under separate rule? How many civilians would be dragged into the cross fire because someone decided they were fit to rule? Many questions were left unanswered. However, one thing stood true. Blood would encompass the entirety of the continent. Men would die and women and children would follow. The flames of war will be ignited as a raging inferno that lasted as long as it pleased. Peace would be a thing of the past, and conflict was a path to follow. Warriors would stand and kings will fall. The children will suffer and the adults will die. There was no longer any time for peace, now…. was a time for war.
Chapter 1 Spoiler: HERE A famous person once said that the enemy of humanity was disorder. The basic logic behind that statement could be found quite easily but, it simply isn’t true. Disorder is a driving factor for humanity, nothing pushes us harder. War pushes us to develop weapons. Diseases push us to develop medicine. Disorder may be the sole thing that keeps us alive. Disorder, is the only thing which keeps our society in order, as ironic as that sounds. Without the threat of disorder, humanity would not have advanced this far. Without the threat of disorder, humanity would not have advanced at all. ____________________________ “As the head of the church, I propose that Duke Serviel be the king!” An old pompous man tried to speak over everyone but he was soon shot down. “As the head of the church my ass! You have your hand so far up Serviel’s ass that he’s no different from a damn puppet!” Contrary to what you might see in a court, crude words were slung from one side to the next. “ORDER!” With that single shout, many quieted down and bit back their words. The one who spoke was General Livius. He held enormous power in the country now that the king was gone but he did not want to rule. In his words, he was much more suited to the battlefield then in court. “Stop bickering like fools you imbeciles! The country is in disorder and we, as its officials must bring this state of unrest to an end. To do so requires a king. So, let’s just follow the instructions left to us from the last king.” At this proclamation, many were confused but the pope and the few dukes and duchesses were not pleased. “Then it’s obvious whose side would win. Your’s would General.” With a snort, the general returned his words calmly. “That is why we would choose new candidates. Everything will be fair from beginning to end. We must pick a child of teenage years and the promising out of them will be the new ruler. Male or female.” With the news that they would all be starting from scratch, most of the higher nobles complexions turned for the better. But the lower nobles were still confused. “What instructions are you talking about General?” With a side glance, the general stared down on the man before explaining. “King Matthais left behind some instructions for choosing the proper heir. In which it states that all nobles are to choose someone who is between 12-18 to groom. The most fitting one shall be named the new king.” That mostly covered it, however the general left out a small piece. Or so the higher tier nobles thought. “The noble house which wins will be named the new royal family.” Signs of excitement and exasperation spread throughout the court. “The process begins now! Find an heir by the end of the week! We will hold another concession at a later date.” Leaving those words behind, the general was the first to leave court. Following him were a few dukes and barons that were eager to find their own candidates. Most went to the higher classed population. The general and a select few others though, made their way to various places throughout the kingdom. These people could be considered quite smart and almost all of them were appointed by the previous king. These people were hand-picked and raised from a young age by the last king but there was no kind of love between them. In fact, they had all crawled up from the slums to get where they are today. After all, to fix something, you had to be vaguely intimate with it. How would a king correct areas like the slums without living in them? As they scoured through the slums, the general had found his candidate. A boy, roughly 13 years of age. He knew that the younger they were, the better. It would allow for them to take in more information. Of course, the general didn’t just walk around the slums and randomly picked someone. He discreetly showed a few kids a large amount of gold ‘unintentionally’. He had been raised in the slums, he knew what they would do. First, they would inform whatever other members of their crew they had. They would track him down and ambush him. Common tactics used in the slums. What he was doing brought great nostalgia to him. After all, this was how he was picked by the former king. Of course, he was older than 13 but this was a testament of the boy’s talent. He was the leader of the group the general had caught. He was young, younger than some of the other kids in their group. He had shown excellent leader skills and he was willing to take on the blame of his group’s actions. He could be described as a good seed. With bruises and blood caking their skin, the general sat them all down in a corner before staring into the boy’s eyes. “How would you like to be the king?” -------------------------------------------- In the red-light district of the kingdom’s capital, following Duchess Ibraham She was another child hand-picked by the former king. Just like he once did, she went scouring the various brothels and whorehouses. The sights and smells brought back many unpleasant memories but she supposed that they were her birthplace. She grew up in a whorehouse, she knew the tempering it provided. As she was walking through the various halls and rooms, she felt a slight tug on her dress and she lashed her hand out quickly. It seems that somebody wanted to get some extra coin. Too bad that they weren’t deft enough. She caught the hands of a young girl, dressed in rags. She was beaten and bloody, but the fire in her eyes was unmistakeable. She once had eyes like those. Eyes which told of many things, eyes which signaled that you would fight for every chance at living. She knew that she had found her candidate. She had found the next ruler. She was also of suitable age. “How would you like to rule darling?” --------------------------------------------------- In the ‘blood-district’ of Alias Town, following Baron Desri He was fairly new to nobility. The customs and things like that were lost on him. He was a fighter, he was a survivor. He had crawled his way up from this place and at the tender age of 24, he became a baron. He passed through the various fighting rings and continued walking. He knew where he wanted to go, he had made his mark there after all. He had made it to one of the most brutal places in the kingdom. Men, women, and children would come here using any means necessary to kill their opponent. They were ruthless, tempered, survivalists like him. Given his status, many of the organisers came to greet him but he waved them all away. He had come to watch, to find his candidate. One who would be willing to do anything to reach their goals. One that reminded him of himself. Standing with his arms crossed behind the cage, he held a fairly imposing stance. Inside the large cage were two boys furiously beating each other. The size difference was easily noticeable. The winner of this fight should already be determined with the older and bigger boy on top, but Desri knew better. What mattered here was not size or age, it was ferocity. The younger boy had much more of that and just like he predicted, the younger boy let out a scream and clawed out the older boy’s eyes out. The older boy began to scream and punch the younger boy but he held on. He reached up and put his hands around the older boy’s neck, squeezing as hard as he could. All the while, Desri was impassively watching on. The only hint of emotion was the sparkle in his eyes as the younger boy lurched up and bit at the older boy’s neck. Blood splattered across the arena as cheers erupted. Even after the older boy finally succumbed to his injuries, the younger boy still clutched tightly. Desri stared at the boy and a smile could be seen curving his lips. He had found his candidate. Using one hand, he opened the cage and he walked up to the boy. Pulling out a handkerchief, he began to wipe the blood of the boy’s face. “What is your name?” The boy had a hesitant ferocious look on his face and he glanced towards the organiser to see what he should do. With a nod of his head, the organiser urged the boy to comply with Desri and thus he did. “Aran.” Desri nodded his head as he stared at the boy. “Aran, how would you like to become a monarch?” -------------------------------------------------- In the common district of Aelan Town, following Viscount Gaelis He disdained them. All of them, why would they choose such idiotic ways to find a candidate when there were countless of them here? In the common district, they all knew of hard work. They all knew buisness. It was something they were taught since young. It was something he was taught since young. Once they got those fundamentals down, they had a smooth sailing life. Work hard, barter, make money, raise you status. It’s what he did to get to his current status. The people here weren’t the cruelest, nor the smartest, nor the best. However, they had something that all other lacked, they knew their way around. They knew how to be social. They knew a wide variety of skills that allowed them to achieve their goals. The common district was unlike the slums because there were various ways to make money. You never had to focus on a single job here. Various work ethics created various skills. Almost all of them essential. While wandering around, he was observing all the working teens. They were hardy, had a bright look in their eyes, and were generally more social. You couldn’t gain the trust of someone if you didn’t talk to them first. And after wandering around the district for a while, he spotted his candidate. A young girl 12 years of age. She was wandering from one place to the next, occasionally picking pockets, occasionally delivering for pay. She was skilled in how she dealt with people and she was deft in the art of theft. Walking up to her, he finally grabbed her attention with a tap on her shoulder. He gave her one of his trademark smiles and stared at her with extreme sincerity. “How would you like to put your skills to work? How would you like to become the next queen?”
Nope, just a took a quick glance at your novel thread and saw the great wall of text that is the chapters.
Balthazar san. I read them and found them were quite nice. Easy to read and decent~ Is this supposed to be multiple POV in the same timeline? I mean each sponsors to the each of their candidates right? You may follow @Casul Reader advice too. Make the whole writing easier go read. But I think it's ok personally. Well, I will patiently wait~ Means something to be expected in my reading list lol~ I'm rooting for your story.
@The great metalunicorn @JustaReader @Clown333 @Tang Tang Gonna stop uploading until I finish book 1 so technically a hiatus but not really since I'll still be writing