1 Chapter one

Leo Dornan woke up in darkest of places. Both figuratively and literally. Not for the first time, the brown haired boy wondered how he got here. He sat in a dungeon cell, with his feet shackled to a wall made of stone. His shirtless body lay cold in the barely lit cell, starving from lack of food.

* * * * *

He was once the prince of an auspicious kingdom, before it all fell to ruin. The Kingdom of Therston was a rich one, situated near the Rohasdom Mountains. A warm day was a rare occurrence in this snowy kingdom. Therston was a kingdom situated in the northern areas of their continent. The continent of Ithreal. There were two other kingdoms that mattered, but they lived in peace with one another. The Hethga Kingdom lived in the West, and in the middle, connecting Therston and Hethga, was Denosa.

* * * * *

Leo was a man of good looks. With straight silky hair that reached his chin, he was adored by the ladies of Therston. He had delicate features which were slowly scarred by his scrappiness while growing up. This caused him to appear like the main characters in all the new plays. People always told him he'd get a part in them. Being a prince, Leo was used to getting a lot of things, whether they were items, love or withering stares. The only thing he didn't expect to get, was captured.

* * * * *

The king of Therston, Alston, had just received word of an unknown force within Ithreal. He reached out to his allies in the neighbouring kingdoms. Ferga of Hethga, and Barbosa of Denosa agreed to help investigate the rumours. After a few months, one of Alston's advisers limped in, sans his left arm. "My liege," he said. "It's an opposing country. Not that of Earth, but of hell."

* * * * *

Leo didn't remember much. He was captured, by a man in a robe. He had a warrior's helmet. One with horns, and a demonic face. It covered everything except the eyes, which were darker than the nighttime skies. He had no pupils, just a void in his eye sockets. He wasn't human. Every night, without fail, he would come in, rattling on about special powers that Leo apparently possessed. Whenever he realised that Leo hadn't unlocked his potential, he settled for torture. Brutal slicing of his skin. Bones being snapped. Every time, Leo couldn't do anything but watch as his blood left his body and his limbs were damaged beyond repair.

The cell door wrenched open, revealing the man in the robe. Once again, his mask was on, allowing focus only on those demonic eyes.

"I grow tired of waiting for you," his voice was deep, like a man possessed. "After tonight, you will never move again. Surely even someone with a history such as yourself has a meager amount of self preservation. If you do, show me your powers!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Leo shouted.

"Maybe you don't care about yourself, but after this, you'll wish you told me." He chuckled, and it sounded like shaking stones in a mead tankard.

From within his robe, he drew a kukri knife, and stepped closer to Leo. Leo turned his head away, awaiting his torture, and it came, in sharp stabs of seering pain. His screams echoed, until even his voice couldn't go on any longer.

* * * * *

The day came when Leo would have to stop being such an example of impropriety in his kingdom. Even the citizens of Denosa were speaking about him. Out of all the reputations he could have formed, being caught by fathers of the women he was making love to had to be the main cause of being hated among the villagers. He was, of course loved by many due to his charisma and talent, despite his cockiness regarding both.

* * * * *

Leo awoke to the least pain he had ever felt in the recent months. He gave his body a once over and nearly shouted with the elation building up within him. All his flesh wounds that would have left him bleeding out, have all become large cuts instead of life threatening lacerations. Most of his bones had healed too. The only broken ones were his left femur, right humerus, and five ribs. His happiness was replaced with despair. He sat hopelessly and imagined his body healing. He looked at his broken leg and imagined the bones melding together. He wasn't imagining anymore. With a silent crack, his bones set, sending jolts of pain arcing to his head.

* * * * *

His first time was with Janelle, daughter of Maximus Wilardson. As a fifteen year old, who was well versed in the art of charm, he didn't have to work hard. It happened at her sixteenth birthday celebration. The citizens of Therston, being traditional, made a big deal of each birthday. Her sixteenth, was an even bigger deal, but not in the most cheerful manner.

* * * * *

It was time to focus on his ribs. He saw it in his mind's eye, the image of his ribs melting down, moving into shape and setting. All five ribs cracked into place, sending even more pain the man in the robe could inflict. He but his lip, which drew blood, but it did serve in stopping him from screaming.

* * * * *

He had just undressed Janelle and was doing things a person dare not repeat. They finished in a broom closet and were very happy until the footsteps were heard. The door opened. A hand reached in, evidently searching for a broom, but found a living one instead. The strong hand closed on Leo's neck and Maximus Wilardson dragged him out.

* * * * *

It was time for his arm. He knew what to expect and got it done with a much more ease. He even managed to numb the pain. The room he was in was dimly lit by a sole torch sconce. It was just to his left, but also just out of his reach. He knew that if the man in the robe returned, he would notice that his prisoner was no longer in pain.

* * * * *

Maximus soon had both hands around Leo's neck. Gasping for air, Leo kicked him in the groin, with the power of a horse. Once he was free, he took a second to breath and bolted. Screaming after him, Maximus collapsed in pain.

* * * * *

Leo stood up as much as he could, feeling the effects of not eating for days. He had a strong feeling that his food had been poisoned in some way. He reached across to the torch but soon found himself reaching to save his face from the floor. It didn't take him long before he had the energy to get up again. The idea of escaping caused him to tap into his energy reserves.

He reached again but now he felt an energy burning in his arm. The more he reached, the more he felt it. It eventually built up to a point where his arm felt like it was going to fly away. As this happened, black tendrils extended from his arm, like smoke drifting from a flame. His mind suddenly became alert and as it did, the tendrils converged into a formless cloud, hovering around his outstretched arm.

He gestured, and the shadow cloud formed a pure black claw. Using the claw, he grabbed the torch and brought it into his hand. He tried to use the torch to melt the shackles, but alas, it wasn't hot enough. He gestured in anger, giving the middle finger to the cell door. As he did so, the tendrils fly out of his arm, straight into the flame of the torch.

Suddenly, the shadows ignited, and a white hot flame began to crawl up them, like a murderous snail. He could feel the heat emanating from the flame, but it didn't touch him even though it was right on his knuckle. A crazy idea began to form in his mind, and soon enough, it worked. The shackles were gone. The shadows had melted them, leaving a red hot puddle on the floor. He dispersed them and the room was plunged into darkness.

The cell door was a heavy wooden one. All he had to do to escape was kick it down. Surely he could do that. A few moments later, his aching foot in a dark room indicated that he in fact couldn't do it. He brought the shadows back, hoping for a way to ignite them. He began to feel a heat in the room. It was as if a furnace was warming up. As it reached the highest temperature he could handle, the shadows combusted, and once again, he was holding white flame in his hands. He threw it at the door and waited a few seconds. The middle of the door was only embers, hot ash lying on the floor. He kicked the lock and the door flew open.

At last, he could escape.