Once upon a time, there was a land far away filled with magic. Four kingdoms lived in harmony; Pluvia, Adustio, Litus, and Scorpulus. These kingdoms were ruled by darling royal families armed with magic. Magic was used in each kingdom to protect against monsters and witches that roamed out There. And one day, a witch more powerful then any other rose up, and it was left to one kingdom to stop her.
And so, this story starts in Pluvia.
"Hey, Hen."
The blond adult hummed to show he was listening, not looking away from the parchment in front of him. The dark skinned servant who had just walked into the archives sat in an empty chair, leaning back on two legs.
"Your brother's gone out again," The servant commented, mismatched eyes scanning over the colourful spines of books upon books until they hit the ceiling.
"He can look after himself, he's old enough," The blond responded, going for the feathered quill in front of him and scratching something onto the page, "I can't be there forever."
"Obviously," The servant rolled his eyes, one brown and one blue, "You'll be king one day, then he'll have to do this part of the job."
The prince shook his head, "You know I won't let him. Wouldn't trust him with this."
"You do too much."
"You talk too much."
The two adults lapsed into silence, with the occasional scratching from the prince's quills. Some guards and servants came and went, leaving the pair alone at the table in the middle of the archives.
The prince and his servant.
The future king and his best friend.
"You have made grave mistakes," The Witch said to the King.
"I am only human," The King reasoned.
"Maybe so. But you do not learn. You do not change your actions. Those who care for you get hurt, and you do nothing. A selfish king will be of no use to his kingdom," The Witch explained.
"I don't see why you should care," The King spat.
"Because one day you will lose someone, and you will be affected. Your oldest son-"
"My only son."
"Your oldest son is what your kingdom rests on. If something were to happen to him, it would crumble."
"He is not the one in charge, not yet. He will be educated, and protected until I am ready for him to take over from me," The King turned his nose up, looking down at the Witch.
"The kingdom will rest on his shoulders before he will be ready," The Witch countered, "How old is Henry now?"
"He is four."
"I cannot make you see the error of your ways. A curse, I place on your oldest son. 'For when magic runs out and war is upon them, sight shall be lost and a Kingdom will crumble.'"
"Your highness, a merchant wishes to speak with you," A guard started firmly upon approaching the pair in the archives. He shared a look with the servant, shuffling his feet when the prince didn't even look up. "Your highness?" He tried again, watching the blond with a small frown.
"Hen," The servant nudged the prince, who started, and pointed him to the guard.
"A merchant wishes to speak with you, your highness," The guard repeated, keeping posture.
