Igniting A Flame {Kingdoms #1}

Twelve

Lukas stood in shock at the sight of Maragnian ruins. Once towering pillars cracked and split up at the mere touch of wind before grinding into dust. Wooden planks—once houses—scattered further than visible to the eye. Shards of bone once resembling peaceful inhabitants spread across the dirt, charcoaled from flame. Lukas's lip trembled, suddenly guilty from his shameless pride in his king. He hadn't thought of the terrible aftermath of war. He travelled through the possibilities of how each person suffered. Was it fast? Did they feel the vicious blaze of pure flame as their body turned to ash?

Yevvi ran his hand across the debris, no doubt mourning who he lost. Lukas hadn't thought of that. His heart sunk, conflicted by the sympathy for this grief struck friend and the pride he held for his king. He refused to entertain the idea of some princely father of Maragnus. At least not until he saw the evidence.

"I used to settle by this place with my friends. It was a small tavern open to tourists." Yevvi smiled warmly as he gazed across the building in shambles before him. Lukas's heart twisted, tears jerking on his eyes. "Oh! And Mr. Carn served us some of his leftover ale in the back as a teenager."

"Telling me of the joyous stories in Maragnus won't force me into this stupid prophecy theory." Lukas frowned, quickly wiping the tears swelling in his eyes. "That's what this is, right? A measly attempt to persuade me into this lie." Lukas turned his back, refusing to show the immense guilt building in his heart. He would have never felt such emotions so easily in Sora. He wouldn't have felt a damn thing!

Yevvi stared at Lukas long before sighing. "You are so incredibly ignorant and oblivious to this whole situation."

"What situation? Maragnus was a—"

"An awful kingdom hated by all. That's how everyone remembers it," Yevvi growled, frustrated at the reluctance in Lukas. "Just follow me."

Lukas dragged his feet sluggishly, his head down avoiding the thought of the cruel slaughter that took place eleven years ago. He wandered along, his thoughts empty. He forced them to be empty. He couldn't let himself indulge in a world of what could have been. Reality. He needed to be in reality.

A great shadow clouded the ground and Lukas looked up to reveal a large wreckage of material where a castle once stood tall and proud. He gaped taking in the sight. The remnants far larger than his own kingdom's castle. Moss covered the glorious deep grey stone, still polished and preserved. A single dark green flag flickered in the breeze depicting a serpent, Maragnus's symbol.

Yevvi led him to the side of the castle, blood roses leading a small path. Yevvi mentioned his doing in the growth of these flowers and how he spent each year on the anniversary of war caring for them. The path remained perfectly aligned and flat. A shiver shocked Lukas, the image of a flower path too familiar.

His mind trailed off, clearing to see a garden. Black roses, rich purple orchids and light pink amaryllises lined a path leading to an open fountain constructed of gleaming silver. Fish of every colour flurried in the water, leaping from it and zooming through. To his left, a group of servants hurried to decorate archways. Silk draped from the wood, symbols of an ancient tone engraved into it. Lukas had seen this ceremony before. A wedding.

The servants were suddenly interrupted, a towering figure in a gloriously polished crown thundering commands. The face unseen, blank. A short man glanced at Lukas with sad eyes and brows upturned. A pair of arms swept him from the ground and bounced away in a hurry. He reached for the fountain, crying, wishing to stare upon it again. He was a child. The archways thumped as the crowned figure kicked it over in a blind rage. A wedding unfinished.

The clank of metal interrupted Lukas's sudden diversion into a strange memory. He swayed slightly, a little light headed. He faced the thick metal gates leading to a stairway in the ground. Ancient catacombs. He mindlessly stumbled down the stairs, unconsciously blocking out sound as he contemplated the memory. Yevvi followed behind, conversing about some topic. He couldn't hear him too well.

Lukas moved his way down the stairs, which spiralled seemingly endlessly. The constant moving making him sick to the stomach. The walls seemed to wave and stretch, the ancient language written in the centre. Whispers filled his ears telling miraculous stories of history, of pain and change. Finally, he reached the bottom and everything went silent. The beckoning calls vanished. He tensed, feeling his stability return. It felt as if someone took over his body for a moment.

"You know, with Maragnus being an immortal kingdom, my actual age is 140," Yevvi stated as he strolled through the open hallway. Lukas stared at him, his words sucked from his mind. "Daris, your father, took me in at young age. I can't seem to remember what happened to my parents. All I know is that they were not there. He allowed me, a child of the streets, into a wondrous and extravagant castle. He assigned his maid, Rae, to mother me and thus began my new and joyous life." Lukas darted his eyes across the hallway, the walls of wood and glorious designs carved into it. Some the captured beauty of nature, some the gruelling faces of battle.

"What was Daris like?" Lukas blurted, thoughts rushing back to him all at once. Crap. Yevvi looked over his shoulder, a little shocked.

"Daris was a ferocious and mighty prince with a heart of pure gold. He two loves were his kingdom and his family. Your mother often visited the castle. Although, Daris did sneak her in the back so his father wouldn't scold his sudden interest in a peasant," Yevvi spoke with a child-like enthusiasm. Lukas swore under his breath. He promised he wouldn't ask of this prince. He promised he wouldn't drag himself into a fantasy world. Gods, he was slipping.

"And," Lukas coughed awkwardly, "And what of my mother and her relationship with this so called prince?"

"I have never seen such a pure love. Their passion was clear, stopping at nothing to be together. Daris spent weeks combating his father's consistent attempts to marry him to some prissy and prim lady of another smaller kingdom. He was sure that his queen was Naedeen. Then, you were born. Right here in Maragnus." Lukas gulped, invested in the story. "I only ever saw you once before, suddenly, you were carted back to Sora. The time spent away from your father became longer and longer. Some conflict with Krest Andel. I was never told what."

Yevvi paused his speech, turning a corner. Lukas followed to reveal a spacious library. Dust immediately whipped at his face, the room being untouched for so long. A sea of books lined the walls, with deep velvet seats accompanying every corner. The perfect place to forget about the outside world. His eye caught on a faint glow in the far right corner, hidden by a large bookcase. Yevvi headed towards it.

He carefully reached for a book stationed on a pedestal. Its cover pitch black while the spine glowed a bright gold. Yevvi delicately flicked through the pages, the white glittering. Prophecies were such a precious item that could only be held by the highest of titles. Lukas couldn't help but admire the exquisite book. Yevvi handed the prophecy to Lukas, urging him to read it. Lukas took a deep breath before taking in the words on the first page.

His eyes shot from sentence to sentence. His hand shook more violently with each passing second. He felt as if his very soul left his body, leaving him a hollow shell. 'If Maragnus shall fall at the hands of the Soran beast, the son of prince Daris shall rise. His power grows stronger, a power unlike our own. Maragnus will not fall so easily.' Lukas flipped through it furiously, the content only mentioning the power of the kingdom and religious prays to the gods to guide the son of Daris.

"I don't understand," he whispered as his knees trembled, "I'm not this person."

"A head of obsidian and eyes as gold as the sun," Yevvi recited a section sourly. "I'm sure that is you. Besides, it says your damn name!" He pointed to a section indeed revealing his name.

"But, why? I don't. This is not how I remember things. This is not—" Lukas shoved the book into Yevvi's hand before throwing himself to the left and hurling. He dropped to the ground, his head pounding. Start looking back at your own life. Oh, gods.

"Hello, gentlemen," a smooth voice purred from one of the various corners in the library. A familiar sway of deep red hair came into view.