Introduction

There should have been a carpet there, it would have made things a lot easier. But there wasn't. Instead, there was bare stone with cracks and fissures on which sadness, grief, and vengeance could spawn. But it didn't. A majority of the time the opposite happened, and it was all thanks to one man.

"King. A week ago my village was attacked. Those retched band.."

"Watch your mouth in front of the kin…

"Shut up Artilius. Go on old man" The king said.

"As I was saying, those wretched bandits stole our food and burnt our homes. I beg for your help, gracious king."

"Why don't you just get guards and builders and more farmers. That'..." Lucas said. The king stood up, red faced, and slapped his son. The already silent throne room became more silent, as the slap echoed.

"If you disrespect one of my subjects again son..." The king didn't finish his sentence and instead sat down and stared back at the peasant, who was still on his face.

Lucas thought, 'I must have done something wrong but what? That's our solution when we have those problems."

A guard giggled. The king's eyes jerked towards that guard, his face no longer red, his voice monotone, and said, "you dare laugh at my son?"

The guard's eyes widened, and he cried out, "No, I would never laugh at your, son."

"I see... you're no longer a guard here." The king turned his face back to the peasant, having finished with the guard.

The guard once again cried out, "Wait how can you do this to me? I only giggled a little" feeling wronged he looked towards the guards he considered his friends. Nobody looked back at him.

"How can I do this?" The king stared at the guard, his eyes no longer calm, the guard fell down on his knees, his eyes looking at the floor. "I've been a king for centuries, but I guess you know more about what I can and can't do than me. So please inform me, stand up and tell me WHAT I should do this."

The guard didn't raise his head. No, he purposefully kept his head as low as possible. "Out of my throne room before I change my mind." The king said.

The guard stood up, looked towards the door and marched out, his armour clanging him free of all the honour he'd strived to achieve. "Make your way out of here without noise." The king added.

The guard felt the urge to look back at the king, but knew better than that. He took slow and calm steps making his exit as quiet as possible.

Lucas looked at his father, if eyes could sparkle, then he had two stars. The red handprint on his right cheek still hurt, but that was irrelevant to him now. Even if his wounds shrieked, that's all they did, shriek. The last time he had complained to his father he ended up getting another slap on his left cheek.

"Go to the neighbouring villages and ask for their help, make sure they send some of their sons and food to help with rebuilding and feeding your village. Make sure to tell them you have the king's word." The king looked forward, ending the conversation.

"Thank you my king, never has there been a king as gracious as you." The entire room was lit up by Lucas's eyes.

Lucas had to leave before he wanted to. He had a busy schedule. Now he had a sword-fighting lesson. Afterall, a weak king is no king at all.

He walked through the shining marbled floor, past the statues of past kings, past the greatest paintings, and entered a room with grass in it and the sun shining bright.

His golden outlined coat, stitched by lion mane dragged on the floor behind him. He had a shirt of the finest golden silk, and his pants were made of the most comfortable silk. On his fingers there were 15 golden rings, and he had three necklaces with jewels that shined and sparkled.

A king must show his superiority. Lucas had learnt that after he had been talked down to by the chef; strangely his father never was talked down to. Lucas summed it up to the visual difference.

As he walked into the room with grass and an open roof. He took off his coat and hung it beside the door. He couldn't fight with it.

"Hello Alexander." Lucas said as he took

"Hello Heir. How has your day been."

"Great." He had picked up his sword and stood in front of Alexander the sword master.

Then we shall begin. Alexander lightly swung the sword at Lucas, who repelled his attacks by bashing his sword into Alexander's sword. Wood against wood, Lucas's sword always pushed away Alexanders. And each time, he took a step forward.

The fight continued, and Lucas advanced endlessly but seemingly to nowhere. He began panting, his shirt sticky and itchy due to the sweat. He stopped and finally turned his eyes from Alexander's sword to Alexander's eyes.

"You have too much emotion in your strikes." Alexander said.

Suddenly, Alexander stepped forward and swung his sword from above his head down. Lucas once again swung his sword full force, but this time he was pushed back and almost lost his grip. His hand hurt. Alexander leaped forward, he twisted and thrusted his arm from his waist.

Lucas brought down his sword and tried to parry, but his sword was tossed away as if it was a weak stick. Alexander's wooden sword was touching the neck of Lucas, Lucas let out his breath and Alexander took back his sword.

"Emotion has been placed in your heart, not in your sword. Also your leg work is weak, and remember that winning the battle does not matter if you lose the war." Alexander said as he put down his sword.

Lucas also put his sword down his sword and rushed into the corridor, running for his next appointment. He ran through the empty corridor until he reached the wooden door. Then he wanted to enter.

He forgot his coat.

"Hello Martha.

"Hello Heir."

"Can you please take off your rings."

"Oh yeah, of course." He dragged their rings off, and put them into a box. HE sat down on a wooden chair in front of the librarian, there was a lantern above them.

"You stink." Martha said.

"Oh yeah, I just had a practice session with Alexander. I really do stink hahaha." A smile rose up on Martha's lips, but was quickly covered.

"Right, then let's begin our session" She said.

"Today we will learn about…"

2 hours later.

"Wait what's the time right now?" Lucas said.

"It's 3"

"Oh no I'm going to be late for my physical training, I gotta go." Lucas rushed up the stairs, taking three steps at once, bashed the door into the hallway, and began running one direction. Scaring the servants who walked in the corridor.

He forgot his rings.

"Hello Jake."

"Hello he..:"

"Please call me by my name."

"As you wish Lucas. You'll be lifting you cow as usual, please take of your shirt and necklaces.

Every single day for the last year he'd had to lift a cow. At first it was impossible, than it became easy as his muscles grew in a kick. But this cow had begun gaining weight at the same rate, and was now becoming heavier and a quicker rate. It truly was a fat cow. And it didn't like Lucas.

He saw it staring at him, it wasn't facing him, it faced away from him, but Lucas saw it's eyes were in the corner of its eye sockets clearly looking at him. As he approached the cow, it ran away, and athan he'd have to chase after.

"Come here:"

"Muuuu!"

The cow had become heavier as well as bigger, but eventually due to his superior feetwork. Had grabbed it. It kicked and struggled but he wouldn't let go. He grabbed it with his two hands, and lifted it up slightly. He lowered down and put it on his shoulders, and than pushed upwards using all his body.

The entire cow was now in the air, and he stood tall on two shaking legs. Jake signalled him to put the cow down and they repeated the process.

"Muuu!"

An hour passed this way, and before Lucas knew it he was late for his stamina practice. His entire face, hair, body, and pants were covered in mud from wrestling with the cow. But, his appearance would not stop him from running to the next lesson.

The next lesson was a lesson in strategy with the most feared general in the country. That man wouldn't give two flying shits about Lucas being the heir, if he was late he'd be punished. And Lucas feared his punishment. He ran off towards going through the main yard instead of the hallways.

He had forgotten his shirt now.

But before he could get very long. A group of soldiers ran towards him and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Let me go, I don't have any time for this,"

"And who are you?" They said.

This caught Lucas by surprise, he was the heir everyone knew who he was. Then he looked at himself. He had no rings, no necklaces, no shirt, no coat. His hair was ruffled and dirty, heck, his entire body was dirty. His pants looked ragged and overused from the day. What more, he did not have any sense of royalty.

"I am the crown prince Lucas."

"Ha, and I'm the king. Listen kid, this place is for the royals not for you, so go back to your work station."

"No I really am the prince."

"It's not funny anymore."

Lucas tried running away from them, but they quickly caught him.

"If you aren't going to walk away, I guess we'll just have to carry you away."

They grabbed him, and then they began walking out. All whilst Lucas squirmed and struggled. Then they reached the bottom and threw him out of the castle's entry.

"This boy is not the prince, do not trust him." The head guard told the guards.

Lucas cried out, "But I really am! And when my father hears of this all your heads will be taken"

But the guards would not budge, he was locked out.

In an entire place completely, sat a man and a woman. In between them there was a globe, and on it there was a picture of a boy complaining to annoyed guards in front of the gate. The man was Arthur, the king. And the woman was his personal sorcerer.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Oh, this is a horrible idea but I really like it."