Delirian

Chapter two

Hey so this is late, if you actually read through the prologue and first chapter, you're awesome, even if you didn't like it :)

I know it was a little long, and this one is too, sorry :-/  I was going to try to make this chapter shorter but it doesn't really work.  I promise the next chapters will be like half the size! 

Again, thank you for reading :)

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The path is illuminated by the late summer sun, a warm breeze blowing the reddening leaves across the forest. A somber figure walks down slowly, quiet as a shadow. He wears a rich black suit rimmed with golden embroidery. The small delicate stitches form symbols unknown to this world. His sword hangs carelessly at his side, its dark wooden hilt also standing out, as if it does not belong. Behind this silent man comes another, shorter man, breathing hard and disturbing the silence. The finely robed man stops, and, before the other notices, he is pinned against a tree, sword pointed at his throught. A drop of crimson blood begins to slide down the short mans neck from where the sword pierced his skin. 

"What is it now, Collen?" He asks in a deadly voice. 

The man swallows hard before answering, "Your fathe-" he stops short for the pain of the sword's blade being pushed harder into his through, blood flowing freely from the open wound. 

"He is not my father," The one with the sword hisses bitterly. 

"Yes, forgive me prince Echar," he says quickly. 

The sword is removed from Collen's neck and Echo steps away, letting him fall. Collen rubs his neck, his hand coming away bloody. 

"What does he want?" he asks. 

"He did not tell me, only that it was important that you come right away," Collen replies nervously. 

Echo sheaths his sword and turns back the way he had come, "What right does he have?" He asked fiercely, under his breath.  

But he heads back down the wooded path back towards the castle, where the king waits. 

~~~ 

"But brother, you can't possibly be thinking of attacking Mao, they have the largest army of all the southern countries!" a deep voice cries impatiently behind the thick sequoia door that stands slightly ajar. Echo pauses, deciding to wait to see what happen next.  

"This does not concern you, Rein," another voice, similar to the first, but different - tired -, replies. 

"No, brother, it does. When will you finally have enough power?" Rein questions.  

"Rein." The brother says sternly, "do not make this personal." 

Echar can practically feel his uncle Rein's blood begin to boil. 

"She is not the reason for my disapproval," he says with icy calm, "just look at your son! 'He is hurting from all this blood shed!" 

"Do not bring Echar into this!" the king bellows, and now it is Echar's turn to boil. Hatred towards this man who calls himself his father threatens to make him loose himself. He takes a deep breath before entering the room. 

Both men turn to look at him as he leans in the doorway, his face a portrait of anger, "You called on me, 'father'," he says, bitterly. 

They both look surprised for a moment, then Rein's expression saddens, and he walks up to Echar, placing his hand on his shoulder despite the look of daggers he receives from the darkly dressed boy, "I am sorry," he says honesty, then passes him and leaves.