The Lights Under the Lake

Prologue

THE WORLD STARTED WITH darkness. Dark creatures walked the earth; the Dark Fay ruled supreme. Then, the first King and Queen began their reign, and the world began to heal. The first cities started to rise, with Tenebris as their capital. The strength of humanity, allied with the Light Elves and the Armoured Griffins, fought to rule. Slowly, the Dark Fay retreated to the Black Forests, deep in the Dark Mountains of the West. There was peace.

The King and Queen were honorable rulers. They cared for their people, and showed them kindness. Despite their efforts, their reign was filled with rebellions and uprisings.

There were always rebellions.

Their daughter succeeded them, but nothing seemed to change. Finally, her daughter's son took the throne. King Arbor had a son and a daughter, Ragnar and Keres. The uprisings continued ceaselessly, but there was a lull after the banishment of the Princess Keres.

Word spread of a final attack - the worst of its kind.

The army stormed the city exactly one year later. Outcasts and nomads filled it's ranks, the forgotten creatures that had crawled from the depths of the Dark Mountains, led by The Shadow. No one knew where he came from, no one knew who he was. No one was ever left alive. He fought in the darkness; no one ever saw his face. The last thing you would see was a shadow, or the gleam of his armour. They snuck through the gates in the dead of night.

No one smelled the fire until it was too late.

The reinforcements arrived, but the damage had been done.

The thin morning light was mixed with the flames of the burning city.

The Shadow fought his way to the town centre, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He was flanked by armoured warriors and the Dark Fay, wielding unimaginable weapons. No sooner had he reached the centre, than a cloud of dark gold smoke fountained up in front of him. A figure, barely discernible in the misty haze, held a staff, made of gleaming wood. It moved slowly, lazily amongst the fighters.

No wonder The Shadow sought it out.

They stood, immoving in the midst of the battle. Then they were fighting, a blur of silver mixed with gold. His staff met its sword. What happened next was a topic of much controversy. No one quite knew what happened.

The outcome was indisputable.

The Shadow had been turned to stone.

The fighting stopped; the rebels fled; the city was victorious.

Tenebris was rebuilt around the stone statue, a symbol of the might of leadership. The story of their victory was forever retold, and remembered.

Details changed over time, but 50 years later, when Ragnar II was crowned king, the story was still being spoken. It was a fairytale, a myth - no one could remember what had happened, but they knew the gist, and who really cared if details were misread, and misremembered?

It was just a story after all...

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Keres was a princess.

She had been her whole life.

She had servants that came at her every call, dresses made of the finest silks imported from the border countries, six gleaming stallions waiting in the stables below the palace, and a name longer than most of the guard put together.

Keres Alexandria Daenerys Isabella Anastasia Rosina I, was a name to be feared. It didn't help that it was read out daily, in front of her parents, who always looked just a little bored.

It would have been a dream come true to any other girl, but Keres had always felt a little out of place. She knew she was beautiful, with softly curling blonde hair which fell to her shoulders, and a slim, petit figure. It made her uncomfortable most of the time. She would rather have been plain.

In the court of the palace, she was just a pretty face, to be married off at the earliest opportunity, and never thought of again. She was first in line to the throne, but everyone thought it would be Ragnar - they said it would be Ragnar.

He was the heir, and she was the spare.

No one noticed how cruel Ragnar was, or how arrogant, foolish or slow he was. He was the future king, and he was treated as such.

People told her to be grateful she was royal at all.