The Steal Game

the steal game
• a fantasy novel •
trikxster

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-prologue-

In the chilling air of October, where the cloudy night sky has hidden the stars, a kingdom was under siege.

Arrows rained down the castle, the hays catching fire and leaving the horses wild. The war cry of knights sounded from the towers as the first troop of foreign soldiers charged the wooden barricade. The gate has long been destroyed at the first explosion that woke the kingdom up. It was a normal Sunday evening, where citizens of Casimir were minding their trade counts and getting ready to rest when the Witch of the Southern Brook decided to announce her presence.

The witch graced the Capitol with an army of soldiers, whose eyes are glowing in green – a sign that they are controlled by the bewitching Necklace of Twain. It is a necklace of nightmares, passed down to the most powerful witches in the lands by the goddess, Twain. The emerald jewel could control anyone of the users' liking, bounding them in life and even death.

The different shields were raised to stop the incoming attack. From the flames of fire to the harsh winds and strong rocks, the knights tried their best to block the way in, but the mindless soldiers destroyed them like paper toys.

The terrible effects of the war were no different inside the castle. The large shadow of a bear, terrifyingly similar to the size of the castle's highest tower, loomed over the castle grounds. Its growl left the land vibrating and the large fist tear the wall apart, bringing shaking terror to the witnessing maids. The monster did not stop, instead pinagbabato nito sa loob ng kastilyo ang kung ano mang mahawakan.

A large block of stone broke through the glass windows, about to hit the young boy who was observing everything from the side. His hands were trembling as eyes of forest green traveled around the room, both heart and mind confused at the sudden turn of events.

"Protektahan ninyo ang prinsipe!"

The loud command ran through the veins of the knights. They formed a circle around the young prince, raising their shields to defend against the incoming rock and the breath of fire that touched and burnt their uncovered skin. It was painful, yes. But to endure it for the future leader of their kingdom, was worth it.

Just at the foot of the throne, the King of Casimir was engaged in a fight with an old friend. The previous knight of his was being controlled by the witch already, his eyes glowing in green as they battled. A greenish aura covered the knight's sword, each swing of the blade forming an overwhelming magical presence to the weaker knights inside the room.

The queen noticed the exemplary technique to control the inside knights that were provided by the sword. With her rare magic of healing all types of wounds, she focused on regenerating the whole battlefield. The queen of Casimir was among the rare humans who could wield magic, inherited from her ancestors who lived in the great magical kingdom of Arxes. Rays of green and yellow hue shot up from the ground, raising the spirits and vigor of every supporting force. The wounds and burns that they have suffered from the magical attacks of their enemy also healed as the queen's magic lived.

However, despite the rising tension in the middle of a war, the queen was still a mother.

And a small familiar cry was enough to distract.

She whipped her head around the palace in a critical second to search for her son. Her young boy shivered at the sides, clutching his favorite toy as a group of soldiers encircled him. The terror that surrounded those innocent eyes was enough to make the queen's heart bleed. How she desires to run towards his son and hug him so tightly, gently whispering reassurances. How she wants to carry him in her arms, shielding him from all the bad and cruel that is this world. How her heart cries for protection and love while her mind argues to stay for the safety of the kingdom.