Simon’s P.O.V (December 17, 1846)
I sat upon the throne, my brown eyes narrowed in concentration, my fingers tapping rhythmically against the arm of my chair. My rather long brown hair was uncut--I had denied it for several weeks now--and I was rather thin, as I hadn’t eaten for several days due to the stress of war. For years, the noble family of Erudis--my family--had been at wit’s end with the creatures known as Shifters. They were everything wrong with the world. They had poisoned my brother, the Crown Prince, with their venomous bite.
The finger tapping stopped. They would pay--I knew that. Father had already ordered that they all be rounded up and executed, but I worried for my brother. I had already prayed in the Church, begging for his life to be spared. I didn’t want to be Crown Prince and I never would. His condition, however, seemed to get worse and worse. Andrew can’t die. It’s just not right. He never hated them like the rest of us. It’s not fair.
What a useless, stupid word. Fair. There was no fairness in the real world. Just as it wasn’t fair for the world to have shape shifters who turned into filthy creatures that skulk in the shadows like cowards, while the proper people, who hated none, fell at their hands. I could still remember Andrew’s scream as the black wolf had attacked him. I had been frozen, helpless. Scared. And now he was dying from Shifter poison.
I put my head in my hands, waiting, sitting, and maybe even crying. It was too tense. I looked outside at the thickening rainclouds, a forbidding omen, an unwelcome sight. Where was the sun? Where was that beacon of hope?
Before I knew it, it was dawn. I had sent a servant down to tell me of the situation. He still hadn’t come back. I stared at the ceiling. A blankness. How I longed for it. The door slammed open. I jumped to my feet.
My servant came and collapsed upon the floor. I walked up to him and shook him by the shoulders roughly.
“What is the news?” I demanded, attempting to erase any quiver from my voice.
The man looked up, and a sinking feeling began in my stomach when I saw the tears cascading down his face.
“Sir...the Crown Prince...Andrew of Erudis has passed. You are...you are…”
The man dragged himself into a kneeling position before me.
“My Lord Simon of Erudis. You are now...now the Crown Prince of The Ancient Civilization. I lay my life at your regards.”
Lightning streaked across the room, briefly outlining the servant’s ashen face. Thunder boomed in the sky and the rain began to fall.
