Mwari Chronicles

Chapter 1

Mwanza P.O.V

Mwanza awoke with a gasp and a cold shout stuck in his throat never to be heard by the world. He gripped his blanket so tightly that the fabric was almost ripped apart by the young man, his mind still haunted by the dream of a dark cage, the chains embedded into his flesh and his own voice whispering sweet promises of future tortures into his ears.

Laying upon his bed with his body wet from sweat even though his bedroom was bone chilling cold. Mwanza could still feel the itching sensation of the chains that had penetrated flesh and fused with flesh as well as the cold hole in his chest where his heart had been ripped out in his dream. Softly pressing his right hand across his chest let out small bursts in his pain receptors, almost as if his flesh had been heavily bruised for real.

"Why must it always feel so real." he bemoaned in thought as he relaxed his tense body back into soft embrace of his bed.

No matter how many times he had this dream, it always left Mwanza feeling sick and terrified. He took many deep breaths to calm his nerves and his stomach which churned near loose with contents which he had to force down.

He had considered bringing the matter up to his parents, but he thought better of the idea. Perhaps it was unhealthy but Mwanza would rather be haunted in his sleep than add another yoke upon his shoulders.

With shaky legs the young prince clumsily stumbled off of his bed and slowly shuffled to his bathing room like a freshly awoken zombie where a bucket of cold water from the previous day awaited him.

In what had effectively become a daily a ritual now, he raised the bucket and let the full torrent of ice cold water rush down his body. Taking the sweat and hooks of sleep with it and thus lifting the fog of the subconscious that still lingered upon him from the realm of dreaming.

He looked to the mirror within his bathing room where a young man with chocolate brown skin and midnight black hair looked back at him with a sullen face.

"Why are you so pissy looking." he mocked himself as he took in the face which still retained the boyish shape of his recent teenage self.

Though it could be asked if a nineteen year old was really that far off from a teenager. If you asked Mwanza, it was a big fat yes, he was a fully grown man, as far as he was concerned of course.

It was however rather difficult for the young man to feel like an adult when he was no more better than a prisoner to his own parents,  never having tasted freedom since he was a boy. But that would change starting today, everything that he needed was in place and all he had to do was effectively pull the trigger.

He took deep breaths as he thought about the taboo which he would be breaking today. He knew that if he was caught, whatever his mother and father would do to him would be a punishment of such magnitude that he would feel it until he was two hundred.

"Don't be delusional, that will happen regardless. " his inner mind whispered back.

He looked to the dark morning skies which had not yet been graced by the sun and he knew then and there that his time was now. Grabbing his training armour and practice sword with a bag filled with different clothes, Mwanza stepped out of his room and onto the long corridor of the royal palace that was illuminated by glowing crystals which softly hovered upon the ceiling.

The corridor's sides were covered in all manner of paintings, tapestries and states. They depicted some of the greatest events in Valons five thousand history. Mwanza had looked at these representations of his ancestors deeds for most of his life.

He had dream of one day joining them, leaving his own mark on Valon. But life had seemed to see it fit to throw obstacle after obstacle his way. He felt like sulking as he focused on a more recent tapestry depicting a young man not too dissimilar from him and yet he was immortalised here, with star-sword in hand leading the forces of Valon against another army upon a mountain.