The Price of Redemption

Prologue

His legs were numb. They dragged against the floor of the palace. If it weren't for the painfully tight fingers digging into his arms and wrists he would have long ago collapsed in a heap of dried blood and broken bones. Eros had no strength left in him to keep his head up so he was forced to give in to gravity and let his head hang.

Eros had no clue as to where the guards were taking him. The bright side of this shameful situation was that he wasn't rotting in that god forsaken torture chamber with the rats and the foul smell. He had endured an entire week in that cell.

A week.

The thought made him furious. Him, of the highest social standing in all of the Five Kingdoms. It made want to laugh and punch someone at the absurdity of it all. A week with those beneath him. A week with thugs and murderers in neighboring cells. They had mocked and insulted him. As if even they were better then him.

He shouldn't even have been down their in the first place. Eros should have been out celebrating his victory in the war against the kingdom of Alerca. He had planned to host the most elaborate party and be celebrated as the hero of Esmierthia. Instead, he had been grabbed with force as soon as his muddily grotesque boots stepped foot inside the palace. He then got taken straight to the cells. Although, even in his injureed state he had put up a good fight. He threw both soldiers off him, but unfortunately four more guards grabbed him before he could impale them with his sword. The guards had thrown him in without remorse and had shown no concern for his broken rib from the war. No matter. I t had healeed completely a few days later. Although his inner power was not enough to heal most of the other injuries inflicted by most, if not all the guards in the palace. It was no surprise to him. he knew every soul that lived in the palace despised him, and rightly so. He himself knew he wasn't one for compassion or mercy. They had better get all of their blows in now because as soon as he was back in power they would all pay. Dearly.

While he was concocting a plan of revenge, Eros failed to notice that a heavy wooden door had been openned, and before he knew it the guards had released their hold on him, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Eros caught himself before he hit the ground and attempted to stand, groaning internally as his muscles protested.

"It is impolite to drop royalty on the floor, is it not? Fetch him a chair." An authoritative yoice echoed through the throne room, startling Eros.

He looked up defiantly, only to come in contact with the entire council. Although he should have been furious at not realizing they were behind this sooner, which he definately was, but at that very moment he was absolutely enraged at the sight of his throne room. A humoungous, wooden table had been set up with books, maps, and scrolls liitered across the top of it. Chairs were dragged out and appeared to have been dragged all across his expensive carpet. Even the liquor cabinet had been openned and more than half of his liquor was missing.

Eros was fuming. While he had been living in misery this past week, the council had deemed it acceptable to trash his favorite room in the palace and ransack his liquor cabinet.

Eros felt his full strength return almost imediately.

"Someone had better explain this in the next three seconds before I rip your heads from your boddies!" He snarled vicousely.

Almost all of the council members cowered in fear except for the one sitting at the head of the table. Eros tried to recall his name but came up with a blank.

"You have no authority over this palace or your lands young king. We have recieved numerous complaints from the people over the years. We have tolerated you for as long as we possibly can but you have gone too far this time. In the war you let seven of your villages burn without a second thought. You did not even attempt to save them as a good king should. You are not fit to be king because you do not care for your people." The head of the council states.