RobertDBlake
King Sylvian Jolivet slowly rose from his prostrated position before the icons of his faith. Despite the past hour of baring his soul before his Lord, he felt little peace. The king stood staring at the sacred emblems, willing himself to believe, to have faith, to find the inner resolve to carry on, to not lose hope.
His world was changing. It was reverting to what it has once been. Mankind had gained ascendancy millennia ago in this world and had ruled unopposed but that was very much in doubt now. Those creatures believed to have been defeated and later obliterated were now reappearing in pockets about his world.
Was that not why he had agreed to what he had with his daughter? With Kara? Initially, the king had brushed off the words of the seeress, believing them sheer foolishness, but the advent of the trolls in the northern mountains had begun to cause to him waver. At word of the return of another ancient threat in the fastness of far distant Skäneland, he had sought out the woman once again and had taken her counsel.
Still, the king didn't understand it. His daughter, his head-strong, mannish and difficult child, Kara, was predicted to stand at the fulcrum of what was to come. And the irony of it all was that he had granted her her most fervent wish. He had agreed to her training, though he had insisted that she be kept ignorant of the reasons for his acquiescence.
A bitter and rueful smile crossed the king's face. He had grudgingly acceded to surrendering his one daughter to a prophecy, but in no way had he agreed to sacrifice his other child: Margaux.
King Jolivet moved to grasp the handle to the door into this room that seemed his only remaining sanctum. He felt a failure, inadequate to carry out what a king and a leader must do.