Ironically, the kingdom was named Hawthorne.
Quinn ruled for almost a century and then his first born, Ailbe. Then Ailbe's son, Art. And it went on.
It became one of Ireland's most powerful establishments.
Then after about five hundred years of the legacy, one rebel king, Dillon, just left. He ran off to Fortaleza where he bedded a Brazilian flower and that's where the Hawthorns started to die.
Now there are no pure Hawthorne descendants and the kingdom is ruins.
It's covered in neon green vines and foliage. The expanded villages abandoned when the king disappeared to them.
The creatures are scarcely seen anywhere now. Though it's said, you can see the survivors in the corner of your eye in that area.
Like Lorcan haunts the moor, Fey haunts the rubble of the now collapsed Grimshaw castle.
Even though the legacy is lost, it still lives in the blood of the unknowing descendants in every realm of the world.
YOU ARE READING
The Regal Rogue
FantasíaThe dark folklore of Crimson Grimshaw. NOTICE: ~please read WARNING: This story has been labelled MATURE by Wattpad. ALSO: PLEASE PLEASE! Like and comment. I love hearing from you.
