I AM KING: Book 1

Chapter 1: The Legacy of a Kingdom

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The kingdom of Eldoria was a prosperous and wonderful land, where its people thrived under the wise and just rule of King Bartholomew. The kingdom flourished under his reign, and its borders were guarded by valiant knights, its cities brimming with trade, and its people filled with hope. However, a dark cloud loomed over this idyllic land, for the king had fallen gravely ill.

Before his untimely demise, King Bartholomew embarked on a mysterious journey with his young son, Prince Nimrod. It was a tradition in Eldoria for kings to take their heirs on such expeditions, imparting upon them all manner of wisdom and knowledge that they would need to rule the kingdom one day. Together, they traversed distant lands, meeting scholars, philosophers, and wizards who shared their secrets with the young prince.

On one occasion, as they trekked through a dense forest, King Bartholomew and Prince Nimrod found themselves engaged in a deep conversation. The king's voice was filled with wisdom as he spoke to his son, his words carrying the weight of a lifetime of experience.

"Nimrod, my son," the king began, his eyes reflecting both love and concern. "A wise king understands the power of knowledge. Seek wisdom in all things, for it will guide you through the darkest of times and help you make sound decisions. But remember, wisdom alone is not enough. Empathy and compassion are the pillars that hold a kingdom together. Your heart must be as strong as your mind."

Nimrod, a boy of remarkable intellect, lean with an average height, a handsome face that sat between young, adorable and handsomely firm, with deep brown eyes that drew you into his brilliant mind, head covered with slick brown hair, dark enough to be black in shadows, absorbed his father's words like a sponge. Logic and reason were his constant companions, shaping his understanding of the world. However, the tragic circumstances surrounding his birth had left him lacking in empathy and sympathy, which made him an enigma among his peers.

As the journey neared its end, King Bartholomew's condition worsened. It became evident that his illness was a result of the grief he carried from losing his beloved wife during childbirth. With his last breath, he looked into Nimrod's eyes and whispered, "Never forget, my son, that you are king. The crown rests upon your head, and with it, the weight of a kingdom."

With the passing of the king, the kingdom faced an uncertain future. Prince Nimrod, at the tender age of fourteen, found himself thrust into a world of politics and power. Standing against him were his treacherous uncle, Ivan the Vengeful, a bloodlusted warrior known for his brutality, a staggering 6 foot 5 inches tall, with a body fit and trained, muscle bulging within his skin, his face arrogant and Vengeful, covered by a rough beard with crimson eyes and dark black hair spewing over his head and his conniving grandmother, Vivian, who possessed a beauty that masked her fiendish intentions. She was white haired, not because of her old age, but because of her blood. Her eyes blue, skin fair like a lady half her golden age of sixty-nine.

In the dimly lit chambers of the royal palace, Ivan and Vivian conspired together, their voices hushed but filled with venomous ambition.

"We must handle the boy carefully, Vivian," Ivan said, his voice dripping with malice. "He may possess an intellect that rivals great minds, but he lacks what is needed to be a true leader. If we play our cards right, the throne will be ours."

Vivian's eyes glinted with a sly cunning as she responded, "Indeed, Ivan. We shall manipulate him, exploit his weaknesses, and turn the kingdom against him. Once he is isolated and vulnerable, we will seize the throne and rule with an iron fist."

Meanwhile, within the walls of the royal library, Nimrod engaged in intellectual discourse with the kingdom's scholars. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable, and his intellect outshone even the greatest minds of his time.