Whisper of the Silent Hand
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Listen to a tale my children...
A tale still heard, in the quieter places, far away from the frantic din of the city streets of our own world. An ancient and almost forgotten song, it sings from the lips of a very few. Some say, it is only wishful fantasy, for somewhere in the long misty corridors of time, its origins were lost to us. The story tells of a wondrous land. A place quite different from our own modern world, and yet, somehow, not so very far away. A land, where what was once lost to our ancestors, was never lost at all.
It is said, noble glory yet remains there, inhabiting a mythic landscape of where gods still trod the earth, beautiful, crystal-spired cities rise from the depths, lost civilizations await to be found, and fantastic beasts of legend still roam the land. It is a place where the night air is filled with long told stories, handed down from generation to generation, of ancient evils stirring and seeking release, wondrous feats of wizardry, and the battles of the great heroes of ages past.
The world has known many heroes and villains who have strode down history's hall and left an indelible mark that will be spoken of for eternity. The story, that is being weaved within the webs of fate, shares but a glimpse into the life and struggle that is undergone to reclaim a wayward soul. A soul that wouldn't be called hero, nor even villain in most instances, but the marks it has left across history are deep, yet invisible. The name flows across hushed lips as... The Assassin of Kings.
When it came to killing, not many assassins could equal the cold-blooded efficiency of a member of the Order of the Silent Hand. Among the Silent Hand, only one stood paramount over the entire Order. His name is Thayne Trelesta.
A dark and ancient evil is stirring in the bowels of Point Demons Guard. The strings of fate have been woven, and within its intricate and tangled web lays the simple answer Thayne has been looking for.
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Ethereal Romanoav, nineteen. Just like her name, she was a breath of heaven on earth, too innocent, too untouched, and too unaware of the darkness that waited beyond her walls. Her beauty was the kind poets lost sleep over. Her eyes, a deep crystalline blue. People whispered she was the most beautiful girl in the world, a jewel born once in centuries. When Ethereal was barely one year old, her beloved mother, Queen Sera Roman, died of a sudden illness. And within two months, her father, King David Roman, married the Princess of Kazi, Phina. After that marriage, everything changed. Phina was threatened, terrified, of the girl who would one day surpass every beauty in the realm. So David Roman locked his daughter away. At one and a half years old, Ethereal was placed inside an isolated tower. Too small to understand, too pure to fight back. For there was monster wearing a crown. Alexandra Drakaris. Thirty-two. The King of Kings. The ruler whose bloodline had conquered kingdoms. People called him The Beast. It was said his very shadow could silence a battlefield. Rumours whispered he stole women, used them, burned empires for pleasure. Queens feared him. Kings bowed. But the truth? He had never touched a single woman. No lovers. No partners. No queen. Alexandra lived alone in a fortress carved from cold, merciless stone, just like his heart. Dangerous, deadly, ruthless. He was a monster of power. Standing at six feet two, built like a warrior sculpted by the gods, he looked every bit the beast the world painted him to be. Yet his light brown eyes held storms-battles, betrayals, pain. Love made you weak. And Alexandra could not afford weakness. He took kingdoms. He crushed armies. He conquered power-nothing else. But the world did not know the truth: The beauty King Roman hid away was the only thing Alexandra would ever desire. His ethereal romanoav His little one.. ..... Give it a try.....
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