Prologue

An evil, powerful tyrant.

An unquenchable group of rebels.

A long, harrowing quest.

Add you guys into mix and we've really got a story!! ;)

Well, I've been working on the story!! Here is the prologue..... (None of you appear yet in this part of the story.)

*Edit* I decide to change it around a bit and make him a lion instead of a mule. ;)

*Edit 2* I decided to make Anaera his daughter rather than his sister.....

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Prologue

Syncrad awoke abruptly, his forehead sweaty, his dark, gleaming eyes wild.
“Daerperst!” he bellowed, throwing back his thick, luxurious covers, brushing his hand against his brows, wiping away the cold sweat.
“Your most royal Majesty, my lord,” the servant appeared immediately, bowing low and muttering greetings carefully adorned with admiration and awe for the royal personage.
“Get me my mantle,” Syncrad said impatiently, his brows creased with anxiety. “And call the wisemen to my royal chambers without delay.”

When the wisemen arrived, King Syncrad was as cool and collected as ever, but questions were obviously hovering impatiently about in his mind.
“Please, sit.” He ordered the moment he saw them, gesturing to some silken sofas positioned before him.
“You royal Majesty,” they bowed, before seating themselves.
“To get immediately down to business, I have had a dream, and I would like to hear your interpretation of it. It was a strange dream. Ridiculous. Frightening. Evil. Well, in the dream, my daughter, Princess Anaera, gave birth to a lion…This lion was a monstrous thing…it covered the whole of Maederia and far beyond its boundaries. And in my dream, this monster, this lion devoured me whole.”
For a few moments the wisemen sat in silent contemplation.
“Your royal Majesty, with your permission,” one of the wisemen, Teslivai, finally spoke, a glimmer of apprehension in his eyes. “It appears from this dream that your daughter, her royal Highness Princess Anaera, is to give birth to a son who will usurp your throne, becoming King of Maederia, and shall expand the boundaries of the Maederian Empire.”
King Syncrad sat still, his eyes glinting maliciously.
“Do you all agree on this interpretation?” he murmured, glaring at the other wisemen gathered before him. Hesitantly, regretfully, all of the wisemen nodded.
“You may go,” the king whispered, his voice cold and hard. Quickly the wisemen, bowing fearfully, left the royal chambers.
Abruptly, with a roar of uncontrollable wrath, Syncrad threw a majestic basin, adorned with jewels of blood red, from him. The bowl crashed to the ground, where it broke into a million pieces. The rubies alone shone brilliantly, unscathed, in the light of the countless candles which glimmered in the dim room.
“Dirpust, get me Mendris.”

“I say kill him! Kill him!” Syncrad screamed, as his cousin and Royal Councilor, Lord Mendris, stood before him.
“Your royal Majesty, you know that the babe is not even yet born,” Mendris said hesitantly, startled, baffled.
Syncrad, aware of Mendris’ bewilderment, could not bring himself to tell him of the prophetic dream. As evidenced by the dream itself, even family could betray you, and what if Mendris was to use this news as a weapon?
“Listen. When she gives birth, take the babe away before she sees him, don’t let her even hear him cry. Don’t ask why, don’t ask anything at all. Just do it! Take him away…slaughter him! I want him dead!”