Prince of Hearts

Prologue: The Fall of a Warrior

[Background music recommendation: Eurielle - Lament for Thorin]

He was bleeding to death.

That much he knew.

The battle was won, but he was bleeding to death.

The sun was setting. The lower horizon was crimson, just like the earth beneath him.

Bathed in the blood of the fallen.

It had been his colour.

Carrion crows circled, their charcoal wings fluttering among the dead and the dying, their beaks open in ravenous hunger. Fresh meat. A feast.

The arrow-wounds didn't hurt anymore. Neither did that deep cut that ran the length of his left arm.

He pressed a hand against the hole in his lower belly. His fingers came away bloody and slick.

That hurt.

His vision was fading. If it was just the darkness of the twilight, or if it was the life draining out of him, he didn't know.

So this was death.

This was the end of life. End of joy.

End of love.

Too many regrets. Too many things he would have done differently. If only he could turn back time.

As he let his eyes close, he thought of when he had met her for the first time.

White marble columns. A feast in a foreign land. A beauty clad in emerald green, the eyes that stopped his heart.

That moment.

And he cursed the memory. Cursed her, cursed himself.

Their love had been cursed from the beginning.

Or perhaps, there was never any love at all, to begin with.

Author's note: Please leave a comment if you enjoyed the story, or if there is something you want me to improve on. I would really love to hear what you have to say.

Cheers!