Igniting A Flame {Kingdoms #1}

Fifty

A full, gleaming sun graced the newborn sky. Plumes of freshly lit fire ventured into the clouds, twining with them. The lulls of awakening firebirds echoed through the sky, Lukas shooting flame wreathes by way of greeting. He sluicied his puffy face in a tender splash of warm water, allowing his thoughts to counter morning bliss. Upon racing to the Soran palace—muscles twinging with a sharp pain from each simple movement, as a result—Arvin relayed their endeavours in the king's quarters. He was thrilled to have learnt of Krest Andel's whereabouts, only before the dread set in.

A tear in the realm, a grim world, dusty blonde hair and a violet pentagram eye; all of which led to their discovery. Lukas's blood chilled at first, desperately attempting to connect the dots between his court's secrets and his own. How can one measly encounter with some otherworldly divine force create a loop into a path he had yet to discover? He had questions in abundance, yet kept his mouth shut for bigger issues towered them. There was a certain relief as his shoulders drooped, realizing that perhaps Khandi weren't some growing evil that latched to him but rather an unfortunate soul using him as a conduit to see her sister once again. He wouldn't put it past Khandi to possess prophet powers.

Now, Lukas picked at his nails anxiously as he spied Yevvi gazing forth across the balcony. He coughed, feigning casualty as he edged forwards. Placing a hand on the elegant and sturdy rail, he snuffed the jitteriness crawling within him. Yevvi belatedly noticed him, forcing a lazy smile. He spent most of the night on a vigil, his sleepless face stark with exhaustion. Somehow, words eluded him in an attempt to redeem his unshakeable pride. He was tired of fighting and ignoring, although. Despite his minor setback in the Gallen Mountains, the brief moment he saw his ghostly father had sent an incentive of change through him. As if he aged ten years in one second, he realized the utter immaturity and ignorance of his actions and sought to make amends. Lukas didn't think it would be this difficult...

"King Lukas of Maragnus. Has a seductive ring to it, doesn't it?" he whistled.

Yevvi whirled around, eyes wide. "More like the uncouth ruler of ash," he mused.

Despite the hidden insult, a wry smile tugged on Lukas's lips. The words expelled in that cell still echoed in his mind, unable to entirely forgive. He pushed past the glower creeping to his face and willed strength to his otherwise feeble attitude.

Altering his unkempt hair in idle nervousness, Lukas brushed past the tremble in voice as he said, "Things need to change. I need to change, into a king worthy of a kingdom at that. And—and I need you to be able train me, to be by my side despite my childish oblivion and quick temper." He cursed the tears swelling in his eyes.

"I always knew you had the potential to be something magnificent, even when I saw you as a baby. For that brief period of introduction, I sensed the teeming power. That's why I push you further, even when you are at the lowest point."

"I'm truly sorry," Lukas whispered, the tears dribbling from his cheeks. Yevvi, too, allowed droplets of weakness to brush past his usually stern face. Trying to dissemble, chuckling in shameful embarrassment, he swiftly changed the subject, "I burned the prophecy."

"You..." Yevvi started, frowning as he trailed into silence.

"Clusters of mystical paper do not determine what the future holds, we do."

"You know, that gives you bad luck."

"Children's fable," Lukas scoffed, laughing.