Kindred Spirits

Two

Jeremy

I escaped. I escaped an evil being. When I say 'evil being' I mean the person who hates me the most. My father. Maximus.

He's powerful and the only person who can defeat him is someone with the most powerful light magic, it's the only thing that can stop him.

He hates me because, well... I wasn't the son he needed to be, wanted me to be. He needed me to be born with magic, like he was but I wasn't and I wasn't about to learn the darkest of magic. I wasn't like him, I didn't want power.

I wanted love. I wanted to feel what love felt like, because I had no idea. I grew up not even knowing what it was like to have a friendship like no one else had.

I didn't have a good childhood I had the worse childhood a boy could have. Or that's what I always believed.

So when I say I escaped my father, I literally mean I escaped. Let's just say he made it almost impossible for me to escape. But I managed to do it, somehow.

After about eight years of trying to escape I finally managed to do it.

As soon as I escaped I went looking for someone to stop him. The only person who could.

The only thing was I had no idea who that person was, and the only person who knew, was that person, or at least I assumed that.

But boy was I wrong.

I sighed as I walked out of my home and towards the woods, where I made camp. Did I also mention I was basically a prince, well sort of, considering my father is a powerful man, he defeated an army and managed to become king, though he had no legitimate bloodline.

I also never knew my mother, which is a shame because I always wanted to meet her, according to my father I was exactly like her which is exactly why he hated me so much. At least I think that was why he always hated me.

If it wasn't then I had no idea why he hated me, apart from the fact I may have done something in the first place, which was being born. I think my father would rather see me dead than my mother.

I was apparently on the brink of dying and managed to survive while my mother died in childbirth and ever since then my father hated me.

As I arrived in the woods I put down my backpack and set up a tent before making a fire to heat up as the sun started to set slowly but surely.

As the sun finally set, and I sat down on a log and sat by the fire I realised how alone I was. No friends, no family, not anymore. I didn't even have a sibling.

Some people could basically compared me to certain fictional characters, characters like "Flynn Ryder" and "Killian Jones" I was no thief at least not yet and I didn't want to be and I certainly wasn't a sailor or a pirate. Maybe as handsome as them but certainly didn't have their personalities. Some people may think I did, but I didn't.

I had my father's temper sometimes, and it was one of the reasons why I had to get away other than my father finally throwing me away because I was eighteen, or at least almost eighteen.

I was practically an adult, and yet not one.

I was brought up like a prince would be, or at least what I thought what princes were brought up like.