With the division of his three sons, King Adreas acted on the words of his advisor and divided the land between the Princes. To the north, against the border of the neighbouring country, he gave the area to his eldest son, Queth, for his great strength would ensure their protection from invaders. To the south, to where the sun rose over the ocean, his second son Georas received it, where his courage would shine amongst the dark creatures that reside there. Finally, the west coast to the south was given to his youngest, Volias, the area that would most profit from his wisdom to maintain its fruitful crops and generous trading with sea-faring merchants.

The land now divided, King Adreas began preparations for the coronation of his sons, and the final days of peace within the kingdom. Many days would now be spent preparing the kingdom for the division, and in this time, we would not see the King. His whereabouts shall not be disclosed as I was ordered, only that when he returned, his Highness came with joy and with sadness.

Closing the ancient almanac, fingers tracing the intricate detailing on the leather cover, the reader pondered the words written there. Queth of Theos, Georas of Geora, and Volias of Salis, the first kings of the divided country. For many years, it had been tradition for the kings to only produce one heir so that there would not be the same conflict as had arisen between the First Kings, but after the War of Darkness, all traditions fell to pieces.

Now, it was once again a competition to see who was fittest to take over the throne. The king of each country would select three other children from higher ranked families to undertake rigorous training with their son for twelve years, or until the youngest was twenty-two years of age, and then the High King would come and select the one most appropriate to take over. It was a long task, as the children were not always close in age, and the young king was not looking forward to the upcoming years. This current generation of princes were close to the High King in age, but the youngest were all turning twenty-two over the next three years. It did mean there was space between the three coronations, which allowed for time to recover from the festivities that would follow, but it also meant having to think of different ways to present each. News of the way the High King presented the coronations of the neighbouring kingdoms would travel in the breaks, and each kingdom wanted theirs to be different than the one before.

Sitting straight in his chair, the reader stretched with a sigh. The library was devoid of life, as was the rest of the castle on most days, and the simple sound seemed loud in the otherwise silent room. After passing a cursory glance around the area, the reader stood, lifting the heavy almanac from the table gently, and made their way towards the back of the library where many of the ancient texts were kept. Toe catching a book hidden by shadows caused them to stumble, and as they righted themselves, clutching the almanac to their chest, the reader spun on the offending object to curse at it.

Even raging at the book, it was obvious of the status of this person. A young man into his twenty third year, he held his back straight as piercing eyes glared at the object, demanding it to repent of the crime it had committed. When, as expected, there was no response, he burst into laughter, combing his fingers through dark hair at the idiocy of his actions. He must be going crazy, if he was talking to books now.

Noticing the length of the shadows as he finished laughing at his actions, the young king looked out of the windows to watch the sun disappear over the edge of the horizon. He had not realized that so much time had passed, the sun having been high in the sky when he had started reading the almanac dedicated to the last King of Delyron. There was something about reading the scripts of the old kings that drew the young king in and kept him reading, sometimes late into the night, until he had either finished it, or had fallen asleep on its pages.

Oh, wait…

Mentally slapping himself and scowling, he remembered that he had promised to be down in time for dinner today with his mother and sisters. Since the sun was already gone, so would dinner. Continuing to scowl and scold himself, he rushed down to the stand alone bookcase which held all the old tomes, carefully replacing the almanac beside the other journals and records of a similar time period. As he was about to turn away, his eye was caught by an item he knew had not been in the bookcase when he last came by.

“Your majesty?”

“The book tripped me,” the young king replied without turning to see who spoke. Stepping forward, he took the parchment peeking from beneath one of the smaller journals he had read this morning, frowning at the pristine condition of it.

“Of course sir.”

Spinning about now, he stared at the owner of the voice momentarily before chuckling. “Oh Markus, my friend, what happened?”

“Your sisters were of the opinion I would suit red, and then the cook wanted me to get chicken for their dinner. I apologise if my appearance is not up to its usual standard, your majesty.”

The young king could not hold back a loud guffaw at Markus with those words, the sound only growing when a blush grew to match the young servant’s now bright red hair. Across his white shirt and dark vest, various coloured chicken feathers clung even as he tried to wipe them off. “I am assuming then that dinner has not yet been made?”

A small shake caused the dark haired male to flinch and sigh. “Sorry, I forgot to mention that the mistress forgives you for your failure to show up. Apparently Sir Jinyong came by here and saw you focussed on reading just prior to the meal, so he alerted the Lady.”

“It’s alright Markus,” the young king sighed, fiddling with the edge of the parchment he had picked up. “I really need to choose better times to read the almanacs of our past.”

“They are quite intriguing reads, your highness.”

The young king nodded mutely, eyes distant as he recalled the tales and occurrences recorded in their pages. Frowning suddenly, he glanced down at the parchment as his finger ran over a soft, yet stiff material on the back of it. Turning it over, his eyes widened at the wax seal he found there, drawing the attention of the attendant.

“What is it, your majesty?” Markus’ eyes widened before he dropped into a quick bow saying, “If you do not mind me asking, sire.”

“At ease Markus,” the young king told him with a sigh. “You have every right to question me about such things, as your interest lies here in this library as much as mine does.”

Embarrassment colouring his cheeks again, a small smile pulled at Markus’ lips as he stood straight again. “Thank you, your majesty.”

Walking over to the young man, the king held the parchment out to him, showing him the seal on the back. “That is the seal I think it is?”

Tracing a long finger over the imprint, Markus’ eyes widened as he too recognised the intricate marking. “It cannot be…”

“This parchment is as fresh as though it were made just yesterday, but this seal…”

“Your majesty?”

Eyes finding Markus’, the young king saw the uncertainty in the servant’s gaze. “What is it?”

Chewing his lip a moment before speaking, a nervous habit that the young king recognised all too well, the servant said, “You should open it, but I fear that what is inside does not bode well.”

Searching the bronze eyes, the young king tried to understand what his servant was telling him. “You saw something, didn't you?”

“Yes sir,” Markus replied honestly.

“I will take my chances,” the young king replied, smiling reassuringly. Slipping his finger beneath the seal, he cast a quick glance into the servant’s eyes and asked, “I don’t get poisoned by centuries old dust do I?”

Unsure whether to laugh or not, Markus choked in his indecision, his reaction causing the young king to smile. “No, y-your majesty,” he coughed out, thumping his chest with a fist.

“Oh good,” the king replied. “I wouldn’t want to die when I am so young.”

As the seal pulled away from the parchment, Markus took a step back, allowing the young king to read whatever was in the letter. Unfolding the letter, the young king’s eyes quickly found the name he wanted to see to confirm the legitimacy of the seal, spotting the trademark signature at the bottom of the letter right afterwards.

“It is who we feared,” the young king murmured.

“Read on sire,” Markus responded, eyes flashing fearfully. “Those words are meant for you.”

The king agreed with what his servant said; the words within the letter were solely meant for him. Walking over to an area with more light, though the light outside was fast fading, he read the words presented on the parchment.

To the future High King, my ancestor no matter your heritage.

I do not know how long it will be until you will find this, but the Seer told me that it will appear to the one in whose time the events written herein shall occur.

I am Adreas, the last King of a united Delyron, the father of the first kings of Theos, Geora, and Salis, as I am told that is what you will know the kingdoms by. My last moments as a king, as you may have read in the almanac my most faithful scribe Polipher, have been left unrecorded after the decision of dividing the land between my sons. It is to you, future High King, which I now reveal to you my actions in that time.

As was custom of the kings of the past, in our last week of kingship, we journey to the Seer who lives in the Mountain to show us the future, and to divulge in secrets that we will carry to our grave. The trek to and from was of no consequence, and of no concern to you, but the words and images I saw whilst with the Seer are to what I need to share. For as soon as I entered her abode, the words we all fear and long for escaped her lips.

“I see death.”

I first thought she was referring to my death, but seeing the state in which she and her home were in, I knew it was not. I had visited here once before, when I was but a lad, and the place had been a homely abode and smelt of fresh herbs and spices. Now, it appeared as though thieves had entered therein, not one thing intact or where it should have been. It was then I knew that she spoke of future events, and of what she spake, I will now divulge to you…

As he read on, his eyes widened, skin paling so much that Markus took a step forward, questioning whether he wanted to continue reading it at another time. Shaking a hand at the man, the young High King read on, covering his mouth once the servant stood back. Everything he read was as he had seen when touring the three kingdoms, the matters that would be more secret as his scouts had reported.

The first words of the Seer that Adreas spoke of though unnerved him. Did she speak of the events already gone? Was it the War of Darkness? The Invasion of North King? Or was there something bigger, something darker yet to come? Dropping his hand to steady himself on the bookcase, he continued to scan the elegant handwriting, searching for more hints as to what he needed to look for. The most of it spoke of what he knew had come to pass, but as he reached the last paragraph, two sentences stood out, and he felt his gut clench at the words.

Two Prince’s will rise; one who will shine like the sun, and another his shade. The Shadow Prince. He will save your people from what was seen…

This was most certainly directed to the upcoming days. The first could only be referring to the coronations of the Princes of the three kingdoms, but who? With four Princes in each kingdom, that was twelve males of which he had to find two who would most fit this description. What if they were two from different kingdoms?

What if they died before he found them?

Pressing his hand into his temple, he tried to rid the foreboding images from his mind. No, he would find them, he had to. He had to discover who this Shadow Prince was before darker events would happen. Glancing at Markus quickly, he was glad that the servant had warned him the contents of this letter would not be to his liking, else the news would have hit him harder. Returning his attention to the letter in his hand, he read the closing words, a stone settling into his stomach as he did.

Though it pains me to tell you this, future High King, the future of Delyron rests on your shoulders. Strength, wisdom, and courage be with you always.

Last King of Delyron, conqueror of the dark creature Goranth, Adreas Dragonsblood.

“Prepare the horses Markus,” the young king ordered, folding the letter as he finished reading it.

“Yes sir,” Markus responded quickly. As the young king approached him, tripping over another book, he rested a hand to steady the scowling male. “Although sir, night has just fallen. Should we not wait until morning to leave?”

“It is best I leave now than regret not doing so later,” he replied, sweeping from the library with a hurried pace after removing Markus' hand. “If the past speaks true, we may be almost out of time as it is.”

“For what?” Markus was barely keeping up with the High King as he quickstepped down the stairs to the main hall. The High King had never been in such a rush before, not even when the news of the old King’s passing had reached him whilst he was in the southern kingdom of Salis.

Coming to a stop at the base of the staircase, the High King glanced up at Markus, the servant still at least twenty steps from the bottom. “For the unity of our people once again. Now do as I said, and prepare the horses. We leave as soon as is convenient.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

And there we are XD

Opening sequence = complete!!!
Hope it was not too confusing, but still leaves you intrigued for where it will go XD 
This has suddenly become the fanfic at the forefront of my mind, alongside my SPEED Sekook fanfic, so it may progress a bit quicker than the others are XD
Anyways, off to write more of this and other stories :) 

Feel free to comment and/or subscribe :)

~Riri~