Sunrise Over Liane

Prologue

            
The capital city of Kaist was so beautiful at night, pristine white snowflakes fluttered and flew gently by the young man sitting in the snowy tops of the mountains. He had his knees tucked close to his chest, hands folded on them delicately and holding his head up. His gaze at the city was loving, blinking slowly every so often.

Tiny little star-like lights started to light up the city. A warm, fiery glow from far away. And, of course, the grand palace that sat on the mountains surrounding the city. He sighed in homesick comfort, wanting to return to his rightful home in the Kingdom of Reshu.

The sun had just started to peak its head over the mountain tops, it would soon be morning. They would have to leave for the Kingdom of Liane within the hour.

"Are you prepared, Loki?" A tall, blonde haired woman asked, she came to stand next to the young man. She looked at the city hard with her crystal, ice blue eyes. An unwavering stare.

"Yes, I'm ready. Queen m'am." Loki looked up at her with a toothy grin. The woman rolled her eyes.

"You realize you don't need to call me 'Queen' anymore, correct?"

"I know," He hummed, "Would you rather me call you the Ex-High Queen of Liane?"

"No." She glared at him. "Would you like me to call you the Ex-Prince?

"No, not really." He stood up and turned towards her, dusting the powder snow off his heavy trousers.

"Assumed not so. Let us leave, now." The blonde woman turned away from Loki and the view of the city, to her soldiers awaiting direction by the frozen river brook.

            

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             The young king of Reshu opened his eye and rolled over in his bed. The yellow sun had just begun to peer through the stained glass window in his room, the light illuminating the room a beautiful warm red-orange. He glanced at the grandfather clock hanging on the wall, half past five. He'd have to get up within fifteen minutes, why not wake up a few earlier?

             He mustered up a bit of strength and pulled himself to sit up right in his bed. He ran his hands through his disheveled, dark brown hair and felt the heavy horns on his head. How annoying, he thought. Sunborns don't deal with three pound weights bound to their scalps everyday. And they call us Sidarks feeble and fragile...

The king, Sarkiru, ripped the red covers off his legs in one swoop and stood up on the hard mahogany floor, stretching his arms behind his head. He yawned and rubbed his left eye, vision becoming less fuzzy. He opened the doors to his large wardrobe, an extensive collection of clothing. He chose a poet blouse and fine, black cotton pants. Only the best cotton fabric from Krystali.

    Sarkiru was about to leave his room when something on the floor infront of his door caught his eye. A rectangular piece of paper, obviously a letter. He was about to pick it up when he saw the seal that held the envelope shut, the crest of the Valereine family. The kingdom of Liane's current ruling royal family.

Why is such an important document lying on my floor? Could my couriers not even wait to give me this when I entered my study? They could have at least knocked.

Before picking up the letter, Sarkiru stopped himself and went over to his nightstand. He opened up the bottom drawer and pulled out a pair of black silk gloves, the paper used in the envelope could have some toxin on it. While it was being overly cautious since assassination attempts were few and far between in the years past he's been king, he could never let his guard down. A king as young as himself always had people scoping out the throne and his position.