A Prince trapped in a contract with a revengeful goddess must track down the missing heir of a neighboring Kingdom in order to fulfill his part of a deal, but things get complicated when he has to work alongside a human spy and a dying elf.
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Sinda...
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347 Years Later
3909 A.M
Sindarin Onasis awoke to the jolting stop of the carriage, his body involuntary jumping forward, hand reaching for the dagger that lay hidden at his side. He didn't mean to let his guard down or fall into a deep slumber.
The journey from the eastern port of Soriel was long and grueling. Boring almost. Not an interruption or exciting sight to keep his mind engaged. Unless you count the rambling of the guards that rode alongside the carriage, speaking utter nonsense.
Wine and women. The two subjects Sindarin had lost a taste for after he left the confinement of his home. Though it seemed the guards outside the carriage lived and breathed for those two simple things. Boyish things. According to their conversation, they did poorly regarding the latter.
A sudden knock on the metal frame of the carriage door sent a wave of dread through his body. Another reason he didn't want to sleep time passed by quicker. He wasn't prepared to face his siblings, not after their last interaction and his exile.
Pushing aside the dread, much like he had the pestering shame of his exile, he opened the door of the carriage. A breeze rustled through his ink-black hair, the scent of smoke and cypress trees weaseling into his nostrils. A smell he had so desperately wished to forget. Almost as much as the sight before him.
Etched into the mountainside, The Palace of Stone prospered, rigid rocks protruding around the massive entrance, windowless walls towering overhead. A breeze rustled through his ink-black hair, the scent of smoke and cypress trees weaseling into his nostrils.
"Sindarin Onasis," A brown-haired fae stepped before him, offering the exiled prince a hand. "Your brothers have been expecting you."
Sindarin stepped from the carriage ignoring the faes outstretched hand, his booted feet colliding against the rocky landscape. "I assumed," he spoke, watching as the fae lowered his hand. "And King Erebus?" He asked, his father's name tasting bitter on his tongue.
