A Realm in Mourning(1.4)

*In the consequence of triumph, the reverberations of fight blurred into the solemn quietness of misfortune, abandoning a realm hapless in an ocean of sorrow.*

Narrator: Directly following their victory on the combat zone, Herrin Realm remained on the slope of another period, its kin celebrating in the riches of triumph. However, in the midst of the celebration, a shadow lingered over the realm, ruining of sadness upon its once-celebratory roads.

Lord Edward: ( his voice blasting proudly as he tends to his officers) My bold champions, today we arise triumphant against our enemies! Allow our victory to be a demonstration of the strength and solidarity of Herrin Realm!

Narrator: Ruler Edward, his heart enlarging proudly for his faithful subjects, remained at the front of his military, an encouraging sign in the midst of the mayhem of fight. Close to him, Sir Marcus, his immovable buddy and confided in knight, battled with a fierceness unrivaled, his steady unwaveringness a demonstration of his commitment to his lord and realm.

Sir Marcus: ( his voice ringing out over the racket of fight) For Herrin Realm! For Ruler Edward!

Narrator: With each swing of his cutting edge, Sir Marcus cut a way through the foe positions, his expertise and valiance reversing the situation of fight for his country. However, in the midst of the disorder of war, destiny would convey a horrible blow that would shake the actual underpinning of Herrin Realm.

As the fight seethed on, a dangerous bolt tracked down its imprint, penetrating through the air with destructive exactness prior to striking Ruler Edward in the head with a power that pushed him to the brink of collapse.

Sir Marcus: ( his heart sinking as he races to the fallen ruler's side) Your Highness!

Narrator: With a feeling of fear that grasped his spirit like frigid ringlets, Sir Marcus supported his fallen lord in his arms, his heart weighty with misery as he viewed the dormant type of the ruler he had committed to safeguard.

Sir Marcus: ( his voice gagged with feeling) My ruler... I... I bombed you.

Narrator: At that time, the front line fell quiet as the gravity of their misfortune washed over the fighters of Herrin Realm, their cheerful cries of triumph giving way to melancholy murmurs of distress.

Back inside the limits of the palace, Sovereign Isabella remained at the window of her chambers, her heart weighty with an incomprehensible feeling of premonition. As insight about the ruler's demise contacted her ears, her reality broke into 1,000,000 pieces, her anguish overpowering in its force.

Sovereign Isabella: ( her voice scarcely over a murmur) Edward...

Storyteller: With destroys streaming her face, Sovereign Isabella fell to her knees, her spirit consumed by the horrifying agony of misfortune. For at that time, the sovereign realize that the world she once knew had permanently changed, perpetually modified by the awful hand of destiny.

As Herrin Realm grieved the deficiency of its darling lord, an obscurity plunged upon the land, creating a shaded area that would wait for a long time into the future. What's more, in the midst of the sadness and despondency, the eventual fate of the realm remained in a precarious situation, its destiny dubious following misfortune.