Taint

1. The Runaway

The City of Ostengarde

5:00 pm

They say, if you make it to Ostengarde, you've made it to heaven. To live there was a dream to many. For those to whom it was a reality, life was perfect. Easy even, in a city built on the fortunes of forefathers and paved with the dreams of generations to come. It was deeply steeped in an era of peace and prosperity, paid for in blood and sweat that had long since evaporated from every street and every mind. The present king was full of vitality, long he live, young in years and a fire in his heart. The queen was expecting a child, hopefully a son to succeed the throne. To the west lay the noble kingdom of Reich's Arch, their allies and more often than not, brothers. Between them, trade flourished, harvests were plentiful, the hunt successful. Crime was nearly non-existent, business thrived in time with the pulse of the land. They say, it's not getting any better than this.

They were right.

"Tyler?" A woman called. Her extravagant brocade dress and long, pampered golden tresses made statements about her that she didn't necessarily agree with. She was known as Matilde, or better known as the woman who had had the good fortune to marry into the line of Roderick Alcott. Modesty was not Alcott's style. No, he was a name in the industry. A member of an elite upper class lineage of wealthy businessmen that was fiercely sought after, as horse breeders flock to the stables of a winning racehorse, hoping to inject their businesses with a little champion blood. Matilde, however, had to be constantly reminded by her insufferable new high society friends that she had landed the catch of the century. Laying next to a man who wasn't good at much else in bed other than talking about himself endlessly did little to guide her to that conclusion on her own. Honestly, she preferred the horses. On her farm. To these two as different as night and day a son was born who may be considered the median. It was for him that Matilde was rather unsuccessfully searching.

"Tyler!" She called again, a little sharply this time. She stepped out of the colossal mansion and into the manicured lawns. They stretched out to the intricate wrought iron gate in a leap of green, springy grass. Her blue eyes scanned the lush expanse before resting on a tuft of hair sticking out from behind a bush. That was not a part of the new landscaping plan she'd given the gardeners.... She approached carefully.

"Found you."Tyler cried out in surprise and spilled out from behind the bush, guilt written on his face. He was young, a boy of 13, but painfully short for his age. His green eyes, as bright as the grass on which he lay, peered at his mother between locks of snow blonde hair. "What are you doing?" She asked sternly.

"N-Nothing, mother...." But he was sweating and flushed, signs that were more than enough for a mother to glean a response from her child.

"Your father wishes to speak with you. He is in his study." She pointed at the mansion. Tyler nodded, picked himself up and trudged towards it like a condemned man to the gallows. Tyler squirmed under the weight of his father's glare.

"You're late," He said in his scratchy, irritable voice.

"Yes, Father." Tyler avoided his gaze.

"I am a busy man."

"Yes, Father."

"Do not let this happen again."

"No, Father."

"Good boy. Now look here. I'm going to be too old for this business one day. So I've been thinking about your future." Tyler's face fell. The future. That scary, monumental beast that existed only in his father's head, and Tyler's own imagination, slavering over his head as if to snap it clean off. "As soon as you turn eighteen, you shall start running the business. I have already acquired a manor where you can live comfortably with Elizabeth."