Throne of Soullore

Part one- the prophecy

"It was a dark night, a moonless night, the sky had been thrown pitch black and the light of the stars was not enough to touch the earth, let alone illuminate it. Not a soul dared to leave their homes that night. Not a soul dared to venture out to investigate the screams that came from the Queen's chambers that night. She was pregnant, her handmaidens were with her. Truthfully, everyone expected to wake in the morning to the announcement of a new prince or princess. Even the king himself didn't leave his study, where a single lantern was all that lit the room. No, no one thought much of the screams. And when the king yelled in agony a few hours later, the rest of the castle assumed the worst that they could have imagined, that there was not to be a new prince or princess now. And maybe no longer a queen. It wasn't until the next morning when guards made their morning sweeps that they found the truth. The king, spread across his writing desk, a knife through his back. And it wasn't until after this discovery that someone dared to climb the tower to the Queen's chambers, where they found her. Where they found her dead in her bed, not a drop of blood anywhere to be seen, not even in her cheeks. Where they found her handmaidens, all dead except one, one lady who would tremble and stammer about a man in a dark cloak, one lady who tried to tell the story of how it all happened, until she died that night.

That night, that was the night that, even though some light had returned, everyone felt dark. No heirs to the throne,  the king's grand visor rose to the call of duty. That night, in mournful dark robes, the kingdom was appointed a new sovereign. King Issac, appearing to mourn for the loss of his beloved leader, his wife, and their child- forever lost, took the throne of Soullore.

In the months that followed, Issac proved to be a cruel king. And rumors flew about the kingdom, rumors about the lost child of the king and queen, rumors that they had survived. And the rumors evolved and spread,

'There's a prince, he's being raised by the Forestiere Rebels'

'There's a girl, the princess, she's been tucked away in the grove of the enchanted.'

'They're twins, the both of them, raised separately by two peasant families.'

Everything they said, all the rumors and accusations, they were all unfounded. Every once in a while, someone would disappear. Every now and again, a person who claimed that they were close to finding the lost child of Soullore would go missing. Whatever the intent of these disappearances were, it only fueled the fires. Still, we know not the truth of what happened to that baby. Speculation is our only way. "

Margret stood up, she'd been listening to the same old tales of the lost prince and princess since she was a child. She was bored with them, the old wives' tales. Even the way Fitz told them, they bored her half to death. It just seemed so impossible that the child was still alive.

"Margret," Fitz cooed as he watched her stand up from his place on the hearth "do my stories trouble you?"

She looked the middle aged man in the face. Smile lines crisscrossed across every inch of his face, his own way of letting people know that he was a professional story teller. And that, of course, comedies were his favorite. She didn't know why Issac still kept Fitz around, probably just to save face. He was here when the old king still had the throne. "No, Fitz" She said under her breath "Just tired."

He looked at her a bit longer, twinkle still evident in his eye. "The king working you too hard?"

He knew exactly how she'd react "He doesn't give me anything you can't do, you old man."

A few of the younger children of the castle snickered and mothers tsk-ed, not understanding the unspoken agreement between Margret and Fitz that stated, quite simply, that they were never allowed to do anything but give one another a hard time. "Good night, Margret." Fitz said, strumming a chord on his lyre "Fair well."

Margret gave a him a smile. "Fair well." she replied, lighting her candle off a torch and stepping into the cold, dark corridor beyond the hall's door. She could hear Fitz's sing-song voice continuing the story of the lost heir to Soullore behind her. Amused at his simple joy, she smiled and continued down the hall. She was almost to the exit when a dark figure stepped in front of her.