The smart, the skilled and the BRAVE

Death has a funny sense of humor

The Castle of Polislam had been around for a thousand years. It was strong and expertly crafted. Nothing was for Luxury. It was all for war. Though it had never actually seen battle, the castle was always prepared. Three walls surrounded the massive structure and only the best trained guards walked the walls. Several more patrolled the courtyard.

The first wall was made with the strongest stones of obsidian, fitted perfectly to each other, making it so that no one could stick a sword in a crevice. It would take a lot of dynamite to make a hole through it.

The second wall was even taller, and this one was made with diamond, and as thick as a house. The third wall was the tallest of all though.

Made of pure crystal, it stood fourteen feet tall, and would block out the light from the castle if the castle itself wasn't as tall as a small mountain. It was not this high for beauty of course, but so that they could see if an army approached. From its highest tower you could see all the way to the Steel wall... a wall created for the soul purpose of keeping the Magdal out.

Of course there were the other two kingdoms, but neither were as cruel or horrible as the Magdal empire.

They were the boogeyman of Polislam.

And there sat the castle. To one side lay a giant courtyard where men practiced their fighting skills constantly. To the back was a garden that was more of a maze and then, of course, the soldiers quarters which looked more like it's own little fortress.

The Castle of Polislam was not created to look beautiful, but yet... somehow they had managed to make it one of the most beautiful sights you could see.

Inside the castle stood the main room with pillars of quarts that lead up to the throne of the Kingdom.

And that's where I sat... King Falton Tearon. I was bored as hell. The same boring chair... the same stupid room... and the same freaking problems.

I sighed as I sat back into the throne, wanting to stretch my butt because an hour ago it had lost feeling.

Why couldn't the throne be a recliner? Did the kings of old have a thing against reclining chairs? Would a chair like that make me look like less of a king than I already did?

I was already the youngest king to ever take the throne. I was also already sick of it. I had only been here for three years. I was twenty four... and I already had no life.

I smiled to myself at the thought and put my elbow on the armrest, laying my chin into my open palm.

I sighed and looked at the ground and stared at my polished reflection. I had a strong jaw... I had that going for me. I also had sandy blond hair and light blue eyes... which I did not have going for me. In this Kingdom dark strong tough looks were what made you attractive... not pretty boy looks. At least I had a six pack and a small scar on the left side of my jaw.

I liked to say it made my face have character. Wilder said I was making a little cut seem like it was this amazing battle scar.

Wilder was an old friend of mine, who just happened to be my General. We had been friends since I joined the war, that had been going on since Polislam had been created, and ever since I had been king and he had been my General.

What... you are telling me that you wouldn't want someone you like to be a helper? Liar.

Suddenly a door opened and in stepped a steward. He seemed to shake a little as he walked in and bowed low to me. I rolled my eyes. Why do people bow?

"Your highness, I am afraid I come with terrible news," He said and I sighed, immediately bored. I bet I know what your thinking.

Yep... you are thinking, but this should stop your boredom because then you will be able to fight! Wait...you were thinking I should be concerned?