The Kingdom of Liticea: The Sorcerer Prince

Chapter Three: Blessings Received

Tauron leaned against the stone railing on the balcony outside the throne room. From here, he could see almost the whole city up to the great gates. The Palace of Rannos stood on a high ridge, greatly improving its defensive potential. At the base of the ridge was the moat, over which a drawbridge connected the palace to the city streets. Tauron spent much of his youth gazing out and observing the city and the kingdom that would someday be his.

           The light gray stone became illuminated in the shining sun. Some of the more superstitious folk described Anthre as a city built out of silver. When he was younger Tauron even asked his father if the stories were true. Austin told him that much knowledge from the past has been lost, so for all they knew it could have been true. The framework for the city as built during the reign of what is known as the First Empire. At its height, it was an unparalleled metropolis of wondrous inventions and far-reaching knowledge. When it fell, almost all of its knowledge and technology was lost.

            Over the walls, the lush green meadows and thick forests covered the land to the edge of the horizon. It seemed so smooth and flat that it appeared to be a still green lake. Tauron has been told of countless battles that have been fought on those lands even some bad jokes that the grass and the trees is kept so lush by the constant stream of bodies being emptied into the soil. Great stories came back from the plains; of the great generals like King Harros Litikus I who destroyed the City-state of Cargho, one of Liticea's earliest enemies, King Jonos Lanray who preserved the future of the empire after a devastating civil war, and even his father King Austin who defeated the great Corasian army at Brother's Crossing in possibly the largest battle ever fought on Litici soil. Tauron dreamed that someday his name would be would be in the pages of history, that he would be remembered in a song or a tale. That he would be remembered for his greatness, and not simply for his abnormality or what some saw his gifts as. Across that great green ocean, straight across, through the duchy of Forthren was the Westland. There would be his first chance to put his name into history,

            "It is quite a sight," said a familiar haggard, but kind voice. The Prince turned gently and met the eyes of Borlin, his teacher who taught him how to master his magical skills.

            "I find it to be one of the best views in the Kingdom, just behind the sea cliffs of the coast."

            "I wouldn't know, Master," Tauron replied, "I've never been to the coast."

            Borlin shrugged, "I don't blame you, for not many have. Quiet little place; the sweet salty air, the warm sands," he sighed, "I should definitely return sometime in my old age."

            "It sounds like a beautiful place," the Prince said.

            The brown-hooded man nodded and leaned against the balcony rail next to the Prince, "It is, Prince Tauron. It truly is. Just as this is to you."

            "So, what can I help you with master?"

            "I understand you have been given command of an army."

            The Prince stood up from the railing in surprise, "How can you know that? It was only a a few minutes ago!"

            "Word travels fast in the Palace of Rannos," he said with a grin, "And good thing too, because we must reiterate the points we have made in the past."

            "Master, I know what to do and not," the Prince rolled his eyes as he spoke, "I promise you I will not use magic to aid the battle. Why must we go over this again and again?"

            "Because you will be tempted more than most to use magic," Borlin firmly said, "You may think you have complete control, but you have yet to experience the true sting of battle," he looked out over the battle-scarred plains.