Royal Bloodlines: A Devil's Tale

The Heroes

THREE DAYS LATER

An imposing royal escort awaits princess Mila as she strides out of the palace in the most aesthetic wedding gown the residents of the palace have ever seen.

A stream of servants walk behind and in front of her as she approaches the gathering of royals and servants waiting before her escort to offer her their last gifts.

A plump woman in servants' uniform pushes through the crowd, desperate to be the first to get to the princess. Even the royals step aside as she moves forward.

"My lady! My lady! I have an urgent message for you!" She huffs, finally standing ahead of everyone.

Mila regards the woman with clear disdain as she bows respectfully in front of her, still breathing heavily.

"My lady . . . your sister Shella asked you not to leave today. She is making great effort to fix this mistake. Please wait until she confirms that it's safe for you to go." The servant stutters in a low tone, looking around nervously to make sure no one else can hear.

Mila glares at her. "Tell Shella to wake up from her delusions! She will never find a man to love if she carries on like this!" The princess snaps.

The woman shakes her head, looking extremely worried.

"Shella is trying to protect you." She insists.

"I would have been happier if she left me a gift instead." Mila replies, walking past the woman to get to the rest of the congregation waiting to give her their gifts.

Her five sisters stand in a line to hand over their extravagant gifts and wish her the best of luck. The King and Mila's mother stand at the end of the line, broad smiles on their faces.

They embrace their daughter and mutter their blessings before Mila finally gets on the overly decorated royal carriage. Everyone waves as the escort departs the palace.

* * * * *

EIGHT HOURS LATER

The dim light of the moon shines down upon Shella and her army of beggars who lie waiting atop of a steep valley two miles away from the southern border, having piled up heavy stones and logs at the edges of the steep slopes, all waiting to be unleashed against King Adriel's army that she had figured would march unseen through the valley to get to the city of Arwos.

The beggars who still in their positions seem to be growing impatient as minutes pass and the valley below remains desolate.

"It's already past midnight. You still think there is an army coming?" The man lying beside Shella huffs, setting down the trumpet he had been holding.

"We clearly carried stones and painted arrows for nothing. There is no enemy army coming." Another man mutters, lowering down his bow and two arrows that have been painted a golden colour to look like those of elves.

Shella appears unperturbed as she keeps her eyes fixed on the valley bellow, still certain that Adriel's army will show up at some point.

"We will wait for another hour. After that you can get up and leave." She states.

The beggars nod and sigh in relief, grateful that they will only lie in the cold for another hour. They whisper stories and gossip as the hour slowly passes.

"There!" One of the women in the group shouts, pointing down at a line of flickering torches quickly approaching the valley below them.

Her companions seem startled as they follow her line of sight and notice the approaching army. The torches grow in numbers to several thousands as the enormous army draws closer, the procession seeming endless.

Shella notices half of her men tremble in fear, shocked by the very thing they have been waiting for.

"Oh God! You were right!" The man lying beside Shella exclaims, picking up the trumpet he had put down. Whispers of panic break out among the group but quickly die off as hisses of "silence" counteract.

Everyone quickly move back to their positions, getting ready to unleash the stones and shoot the arrows once the trumpet sounds.

"Do not sound the trumpet until they are right below us." Shella tells the man with the trumpet.

"Yes my lady." He mumbles with shaking lips.

Sounds of the heavy footsteps echo through the valley as Adriel's great army draws closer and closer and finally gets to the part of the gorge right beneath them.

The blast of the trumpet cuts through the air and the beggars pull ropes and unleash the piles of stones and logs. There is a deafening sound thunder as the avalanche of rolling things descend upon the army below. They tear through the lines of the soldiers at full momentum and the scale of the c*****e becomes evident as a cloud dust from the catastrophe rises and becomes visible even in the darkness.

Almost all the torches go off and howls of men in severe pain fill the air.

"Shoot the remaining torches!" Shella orders her archers and they carefully aim and unleash the arrows.

Whistling sounds of the flying arrows descend and are followed by more groans of now unending choir of screams and cries.

"Elves! Turn back!". The loud scream echoes from the valley bellow and

Shella smiles as she realises that she had gotten the reaction she had aimed for when she asked the beggars to colour the arrows with golden paint. The few survivors now think that they have been attacked by elves. They will be too scared to carry on with their mission.

A few torches are seen fleeing, running back the way the army had come.

"I think we won! Lets get down there and check the situation!" One of the beggars says excitedly.

"No. We will await until morning so we can easily spot the injured and take them captive." Shella declares, unwilling to risk the lives of her wretched friends farther than she has already.

"We will do as you say, my lady " The beggar agrees and others mumble in support. They lay down again and wait for the hours to pass.

As the long night full of wails from the valley below give way to the first rays of dawn, the horrifying c*****e and turmoil below reveals its face. The valley is red from blood and flesh, bodies of the dead and the injured cover the floor.

Disbelief strikes the army of beggars as the light reveal a clear picture of their incredible accomplishment. The magnitude of the devastation cannot have allowed for a formidable number of survivors.

"I must be in a dream! I can't believe what my eyes see." One beggar exclaims.

"We are now mass murderers!" Another gasps.

"They came to annihilate us. We gave them a taste of their own medicine." An old man states.

"They feel no taste they are dead!" A woman retorts.

"We are no murderers." Shella interjects. "We acted in self defense. Now let's get ready to go down there and take the injured prisoners."

Despite being obviously fatigued some beggars break into singing a song of victory as they descend the slope and begin the the grisly task of gathering the injured enemy soldiers. Barely two hours pass before they get a large assembly of crippled captives.

A crowd of men, women and children in haste suddenly begin to descend into the valley. Shock overtake their faces at the sight of dead enemy army.

"It's true!" One woman screams as she strides over the corpses. In no time crowds of astounded civilians fill the valley and the top of the slopes.

"Give way to the King!" A soldier shouts in a glorious voice.

Civilians scramble to create a way for the large escort. The beggars gather quickly around the princess as if in fear.

King Edric hops out of his carriage and darts frantically towards the beggars with raised arms.

"Is my daughter alive? Is she alive? Answer me!"

Princess Shella leaps forward from the group of beggars. The King immediately dives to embrace her in relief. The embrace doesn't last long before the princess pulls back violently.

"How dare you have the guts to show yourself here? Look around, this is the doing of your filthy treaties!" She shouts angrily, tears gathering in her eyes.

Mila's mother steps out of the carriage and moves towards them.

"Calm down Shella. It's over let's go back to the palace and settle this in a civilized manner. What's done is done. You deserve a warm bath my dear." The queen comforts Shella as she steps moves closer to her. Shella shakes her head and steps back.

The crowd witness in dismay as a shouting match breaks out between the royals. Shella angrily walks away followed by her troop of beggars.

"Shella! This is not the best time for us to turn against each other!" The queen calls rushing to catch up.

Shella keeps walking but halts and turns when Mila's mother gets close. The woman looks around desperately to make sure that no one else but Shella can hear her.

"I know that you warned Mila not to leave. But . . . she left because none of us believed you were right. Your sister is now a captive of our enemy" She stutters with shaking lips and a rueful expression.

Shella's eyes go wide in shock. She was satisfied that she had saved the kingdom and no lives were lost, now she realises that she lost what was most important to her.

* * * * *

ELVISH TEMPLE

King Tolis strides towards a shrine where a group of clerics is gathered before a great altar bearing a giant dark glowing crystal at its centre. The stone is surrounded by ancient inscriptions. Rays of the morning sun descend from a hole in the crown of the dome above and strikes the crystal directly.

The chief priest turns away to welcome the King.

"My apologies your majesty for hurriedly summoning your presence." The priest respectfully bows.

"I don't mind as long as the matter is of paramount importance." King Tolis answers.

"Precisely my lord." The priest agrees as he leads Tolis to get closer to the alter.

"Your Majesty the stone of fate has not turned dark in a thousand years. We worry that a dark cloud looms over the future of our Kingdom." The priest remarks.

King Tolis rolls his eyes in contempt. The chief priest carries on explaining nevertheless.

"The last time it turned this dark was days before Zedon attacked and laid waste to your father's kingdom." He adds and finally gets a serious reaction from Tolis.

"What can it be warning us of now?" He asks.

"We can't tell exactly. But we have revisited ancient texts. The only thing that hints of our forthcoming misfortune is Lord Ordin's great prophecy. It tells of King Zedon's return." One of the other priests answers.

Tolis purses his lips. "I find that prophecy hard to believe. No witch can make the dead return. Call me when you find something less ridiculous." He states turning towards the doorway, leaving dismay painted on the cleric's faces.

A few strides from the shrine Tolis meets his assistant, Lahore, who dismounts from his horse and quickly approaches.

"My lord I have just gotten word that the Lodz army attempted a surprise invasion on Arwos despite the treaty they had signed." He reports, breathing heavily. "It appears that King Adriel had not given up on his pursuit of the legendary sword of Zedon. That treaty was a hoax."

"So Adriel succeeded in taking over Arwos?" King Tolis asks sounding more intrigued by these news than what the priests were telling him.

"No. Adriel's entire army was decimated by a group of beggars lead by a young Princess. The story is hard to believe. I was told that while King Edric and his soldiers were busy making merry in celebration of the peace treaty, his third daughter had figured out that the treaty was a hoax and made an incredible plan to protect the kingdom."

"She sounds smarter than any legend I have heard of." Tolis comments and his assistant nods in agreement.

"What is even more astounding is that she gathered a group of beggars and used them to ambush Lodz army as they marched through a deep valley in the south of Arwos. She guided them to use massive boulders to clash most of the army before shooting arrows to kill the rest. Only a few soldiers survived the onslaught." Lahore eagerly supplies.

A thrilled smile spreads across King Tolis's luscious lips. "Interesting. If humans weren't so dump they would make that Princess their king." He mutters walking past his assistant to get to the horse. "I need to get back to the palace and see if my mother may be harbouring some deep knowledge about the stone of fate." He adds, picking up his pace.

"There is something else you need to know." Lahore calls and King Tolis halts.

"What?"

The assistant hurries back to reduce the space between them.

"The princess is half breed. Her mother was an elvish woman who King Edric married as soon as she arrived in Arwos. She disappeared after two years, leaving behind her daughter. No one knows where she had come from. But King Adriel believes that she was the elf who stole King Zedon's sword and lived in the run for hundreds of years." He reports after halting steps away from Tolis.

"So the accursed sword could indeed be in Arwos?" King Tolis questions, his voice tense.

"It's not what I was implying. But yes, there is a possibility that it was lost within that Kingdom." Lahore answers.

Tolis remains silent for a long moment, looking thoughtful.

"That sword once killed my father and forced his people to submit to a wicked

King. I will not sit back and wait for it to fall into the hands of another ravenous human King." He states, his eyes glowing with overwhelming emotion.

"Your Majesty you're not considering going to Arwos, are you? Such a move will give way to pretentious alliances with human Kingdoms which we have avoided for a thousand years." Lahore points out.

"The stone of fate just turned dark which means that a turbulent future awaits us. If there is a chance that the sword of Zedon is in the kingdom of Arwos then finding it before it falls in wrong hands is worth a reconnection with humans." King Tolis answers with a tone of finality.

"Besides, don't you wish to meet the genius Princess?" He asks mounting Lahore's horse to head back to the palace.

"Yes, but this quest is -" Lahore starts but is cut short.

"Prepare the escort, we will leave early tomorrow." Tolis orders before riding away.