Unchosen

Prologue

As Darkness ascends

His enemies will end

The Weapon will bring his reign

The start of the eclipsed sun

One a prince, who's kingdom burned

The other a boy, who's world is upturned

And a girl of potions who learned

That one would die unarmed

When kingdoms fall

Three heroes shall heed the call

And bring the light

To end the eternal night

---

The kingdom burned.

It was alight with flames, scorching everything in its path. The night was alive with tormenting shrieks of those that burned in the wrathful fire. Very little had roused from their deep slumber when the flames engulfed their homes. Those that survived watched their kingdom burn. The circlet of bright gold laid in shattered pieces, its once glorious jewels of power now existing only in the tiniest of shards. The pain was excruciating as he used what little remaining energy to push himself up. He had to get out. He had to save...

There was no one else to save.

The beautiful, fair lady he made his wife, was nothing but a heap of burnt flesh. Her dying screams still echoed violently in his ears, as he dragged his battered, burnt body across the throne room floor. His daughter, his heir was but a breath away. Her glassy, lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling where constellations and the power of their kingdom lay recorded: the last thing she'd ever see. The last voice she'd hear was the Queen's shrieks of agony and his desperate cries to reach her. He couldn't stop paying mind to the dagger protruding from her heart. A small tear stained her cheek as her flaming red hair pooled atop the stone steps.

He wrapped a charcoal hand around her body, using her dead weight to haul himself as close to her as possible. The stab wound in his side throbbed painfully, but it failed to cloud his thoughts, his sole focus on his daughter. He let the tears fall.

A malicious cackle sounded in front of him as Kyron stepped forward. The sight of the amused smirk settled smugly on his lips made his blood boil. His gaze snapped to the man, a ferocious glare adorning his scorched face. If he had a weapon, he'd have plunged it right into the heart of the tyrant that stood before him, sneering, taunting, victorious.

"It's not too late, you know." He mused gently. The fire stayed back as commanded, but even he could feel its yearn to burn. Burn him. "Just tell me where the Weapon is and I will spare the lives of those that haven't yet burned."

"Burn in Anaemus, you bastard!" The king roared, spitting at Kyron's feet. Kyron returned a sad smile, clicking his tongue in a disappointed manner.

"Now, now, Arlan, let's not be like that." He kneeled, his crooked smile sat comfortably on his sharp features, fire dancing in the onyx orbs. "One chance. Tell me where it is or else your kingdom will be used as an example to those who keep what is rightfully mine from me."

"It will never be yours." Arlan spat, holding his gaze. "I don't know where it is."

The smile contorted into a horrendous snarl.

"Liar! You know it's location. Tell me!"

"I'd sooner die than break my oath."

A wicked gleam flashed in Kyron's eyes and his lips twisted into a cruel, delightful smile. "So be it." He stood up and chuckled, stepping away. He held his arms out, the flames roared louder than before. They closed in, tormenting Arlan's skin as it slowly began to melt it from his broken body. He grunted, holding his daughter close to him.

"Burn."

The embers attacked, ripping apart his flesh piece by piece. The king felt a sense of calm wash over him. His secret would die with him. The Weapon and his son were safe. Kyron hadn't won yet.

Kyron relished at his screams, his smile broadening as he released another malicious cackle. Even when the screams had been silenced, the man still laughed. The fire tickled at his skin, begging him to give them something else to burn. With a swift mental command, the fire pounced in joy as it spread across the entire kingdom, ensuring no survivors.

The dark reign of the Shadow King has begun.