The Nether Prince

Lady

Ruelux Prince.

A strange name.

It wasn't the strangest, for Seraphina had encountered many stranger of names in her travels and her court. It was merely the strangeness that the name 'Ruelux' was so perfect for him. So perfectly fine that a Prince of a realm have chosen a name that combines the measure of light and those tiny flowers together into one thing.

No one tells him that though, that his name sounds cheesy or girly or weird or stupid. People don't say things like that because he's a Prince, and he has the power to destroy you before you can blink. If he doesn't, he has five others that most definetly will.

But Ruelux Prince was indeed a strange person, a boy really. The Prince of the Netherworld, immortal and ethereal, capable of a great many things. Arrow and knifes were his weapons, darkness and magic was his key.

But this story was not told by our dear prince. Her name was Seraphina Ashwell and she will be our beloved narrator for today. She's going to tell us about herself, and her best friend and not maybe something more, Ruelux Prince.

Let's start from the beginning.

There's two wars in both realms that involved almost all countries big and small and weapons and soldiers and deaths, more or less than others.

The Upper Realm did a little bit better than its neighbour, with their skirmishes alongside their not so long history and their evolutions of various things that did not concern nor effect what was happening below ground.

There were two wars of the Netherworld, before that was just random people from different guilds and tribes and nomadic covens smacking each other over the heads with various means, the Four Guilds War and the Throne War.

The Netherlings were never very creative with their word choices, unless it has got something to do with names.

The Four Guilds War was the longest and strangest of the two. It was more of a Can we fight each other to the death and decide waht part of your land I can keep on Thursday? I can't do Thursday, I have a battle on that day with the elves. Friday then? Sure, I'll wirte it on my notes type of thing.

The Monarchs hated each other, like really hated each other, but they also respect power, and resilience. So they made appointments, and argued over magic portals and mirrors on why we shouldn't stop fighting.

That's what really happened, though the blood and the gore and the grime and death of the battle field was no less than what the history books have told, but the reason those battles were fought was stupid and stupid and stupid.

Nobody died anyway. The Four Guilds fought hundreds of battles together and realized very early on that fueling Lord Death's ranks was just not a very smart idea to do. They just reincarnated, in like a day and a half. Or was it a decade? Not important.

The Throne War was more important. It was brief and was never written down in the numerous history books used to educate the young ones. The Elders would tell their childen to not go out at night, not even the creatures that breathes shadows or the undead vampires and ghouls that lived for blood. It was a thousand years ago that darkness from the Netherworld dissipated to grey mist, before pooling and snarling back in like rapid animals out for red.

It was the day that the mad old King was overthrown by the Four Monarchs, and a new King was put in his place. Though he calls himself Prince and promised to be King at a later time. A thousand years later he's still Prince, still a lowly prince.

A Prince that's no less powerful than a King, so the Four Guilds left him be.

Everything Ruelux Prince touched either rotted into black fumes or gotten itself clouded by mysteries and memories. He was a Prince that everyone and no one wanted to be near with. He emitted strangeness like a car above emits poisonous gas. From his name all the way to his magic, he was strange.