The Golden Apprentice - Tales of Death and Victory. Vol I

Prologue

The screams of the queen echoed through the halls of the palace. Celeste had left everything behind to be there with her. Her troops were still on the battlefield, and the council was desperately trying to look for a way to help the people during the sudden lightning storm. But the General did not care. They could handle themselves, she had to be there for her queen. She had to be quick.

Leaving her helmet and her sword scattered on the ground, she ran upstairs towards the royal bedroom to find a small crowd in front of the door. "Leave!" the woman shouted at the nobles. They opened the way scared, some of them were pale, and others were crying, which only made her even more anxious. As she entered the room, the sound of a baby crying made her stop abruptly.

"It's a boy," the king consort smiled when the midwife handed him the child. "Danaë, look! We made a boy" Klimt had tears in his eyes as he approached the queen on her bed.

Celeste's heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to be happy, but all she could see was the blood soaking the sheets covering her queen. Danaë was pale, her gray eyes barely open, trying to focus on her husband taking the child to her. "Look at him... He has your hair, Klimt" she said, her voice sounding weak. Then her eyes met the figure of her friend at the door and she smiled, "Celeste, come... Come to meet my Danë".

The General approached slowly to look at the baby. He still was covered in blood. A few locks of golden hair covered his head. The boy was so small, Klimt didn't even need to hold him with both hands if he wanted. A fragile little person, born on the darkest day of the year, while chaos reigned and bloodshed was happening not far from there. "He'll inherit this kingdom... The kingdom we fought hard to free" Danaë declared. "Until then, please take care of them... Celeste".

"What? Why are you asking me this?" the other woman grimaced. "You'll raise him yourself, my queen".

A small smile crossed the queen's face, and she shook her head slowly. Her auburn hair was glued to her face with all the sweat. "Take care of them... And of Klimt... Protect them...", her hand, which was holding onto the baby's towel, fell next to her on the mattress. Her eyes closed, and her chest stopped moving. The nobles cried and screamed in sorrow. The king hugged his son and turned away from the queen.

Celeste didn't move. The midwife announced the young prince, Danë Mir'ales, son of the golden queen Danaë Mir'ales, first of his name and heir to the kingdom of Mirha. But Celeste didn't move. Some came to congratulate her on being the new regent and the consort king touched her shoulder, trying to comfort her over their loss. Yet, she did not move or say anything.

The queen was dead. Her Danaë, the love of her life, her best friend in the entire world, her only family... She was gone. The General staggered towards the body of her queen. Falling to her knees, she held the cold hand of the woman between hers. "Wake up, please... I know you're tired, but please... Wake up, my love", she begged.

"She's gone, Celeste," Klimt whispered in pain. "She lost too much blood. You weren't here, you don't know how much she suffered".

"The queen fought bravely," the midwife declared. "She put her son's life above hers. Now she may rest".

"Shut up", Celeste snarled and looked at them with fury in her eyes. "I don't want to hear a word from you... You let her die!".

"No!" The king put himself between the General and the medic. "She did all she could. There was no way to save her. Believe me, my friend, I'm suffering as much as you, but blaming others isn't the way to deal with this!".

The woman wanted to scream, to break everything in that room, to murder that damn midwife. Her grief burned in her chest in the form of anger, unquenchable and endless. Yet, she knew that no matter what she did, it wouldn't bring back her love. No, only one person could. Celeste stood up and picked up the queen from her bed, surprising everyone around her, but she did not care. She carried Danaë out of the room, followed by the small crowd and the king who looked at her as if she had just committed the highest act of betrayal.