Prince Daemon NorthSteed

MOON

One Hour Earlier 

Prince Daemon NorthSteed, fourth legitimate son of the Alpha King, lover of his brothers, and the first of his name, already dressed and clad in his dark ceremonial clothes flipped through a book nonchalantly whereas the two people about him looked panicked.

The title of the book read, 'The Moon Goddess's Path To Redemption'. Not exactly one of his favourite books, but certainly one of the most interesting he has read considering he had swept through the book a total of twenty-three times. Or was it twenty-four? He could hardly remember.

But perhaps the number was nothing seeing as he had pursued his favourite books not less than forty times. Was it boredom or just having too much ample time that propelled him?

"Daemon," Yaren. His half-brother and illegitimate son to his father said pleadingly after it seemed talking to the other man in a terse tone didn't exactly garner his attention, "can you not pretend as if your house is NOT on fire?"

Daemon ignored him yet again, flipping to another page of the book. This time a smile curved against his lips. An interesting passage had caught his eyes, and it read thus.

'The moon goddess calls us to be worthy advocates of peace and love. Especially forgiveness. We must embody forgiveness to its fullest. It is what makes us magnanimous rulers and great guardians of our packs. Through forgiveness, we shall reach the full heights of the calling of the moon.'

Yaren frowned at Daemon, not finding his usually laid-back attitude very appealing at that moment. Daemon in turn read the passage aloud to both Yaren, and the dark figure of a man that stood behind his half-brother.

The man wore a hood, his features shrouded by shadows, and his body set in subservience of the prince. He was like a large unmoving tree, waiting for the command of his master.

"What do you think of this passage?" Daemon asked them amusedly, "should we embody the spirit of charity and forgive at all times? Even when we have been highly offended?"

The man didn't say anything, while Yaren grunted. Even though he was two years younger than Daemon at just twenty, he found his older brother insufferable. "I've told you time without numbers Daemon. I see no point in reading the words of a mad man!" He exclaimed in sheer exasperation, eyeing the offending book like it was responsible for all their problems.

Daemon heaved a dramatic sigh. He turned to the back of the book, gazing at the name of the author.

Alpha Brandon DireWolf it read. The man who was supposedly his maternal grandfather by at least ten generations of ancestry older. "Do you not think it is insulting to curse at him? I mean he is my ancestor, no?"

Yaren rolled his eyes so hard they threatened to fall off his eye socket. There he was, wracked from fear of his brother's life, and said brother was so relaxed like the world wasn't about to go down.

Daemon, realising that Yaren had no intention to partake in his crude jokes turned serious. Flinging the book to a random corner of the room, all playfulness was wiped from his face as dire seriousness took over him. "What do you think, Shadow?" He said to the mysterious man.

Shadow bowed, his hands set before him stiffly. "I think Moorim targets you, your highness. I am eighty percent sure of it."

Daemon pinched the area between his eyebrows, his mind running wild with thoughts. He had played the role of the playful, laidback prince for years, so it was unexpected that his father's most trusted advisor had taken cognizance of the fact that Daemon was not as laid back as he appeared to be.

Daemon guessed it was a long time coming. Considering the blood of his mother, it was natural that heavy eyes were on him despite his outrageous deception. What he didn't expect was for those eyes to start making a move even before he barely had the time to react to them.

"So he targets me? How does he intend to do that though?" He asked both Yaren and Shadow.

Shadow appeared to be thinking hard on how to phrase his next words. A closer look at him showed that his dark clothes were slightly wet from melting snow, and his muddy boots were evidence of the long perilous journey he had made all the way from the Dessert South.

Yaren on his own part found his question offending, "I do not believe the 'how' of the matter is important. That damn lowlife Moorim targets you and as far as I am concerned, that is all that matters! Give me the order brother, and I will serve his severed head to you!"

Daemon clicked his tongue together, his half-brother was still as impatient as ever.

"So you will have blood flowing on the day of our father's banquet. I will not allow it, Yaren."

Yaren started to sulk. He knew fully well that the both of them had no love for their father, the Alpha King, although for varying reasons. Shadow interrupted their squabble, finally voicing his thoughts. 

"I journeyed all the way here as I got highly confidential information that your royal father summons strange people to his banquet."

"Strange people?" Daemon repeated.

"Seers… to be more precise, lowly seers."

Yaren frowned harder at that, his features hardening;. "There are whispers that our Royal Father has been poisoned, and now this? Lowly Seers? Why would he need one when we clearly have Theta Amelia."

"He needs one because Theta Amelia is unable to fulfil what he needs." Shadow simply said.

"And what could he possibly need that has given rise to such strange request of strange people?" Yaren inquired, confused.

"Your father requires a vision." Shadow answered like that should end his curiosity, "and not just any kind of vision, but a very specific one."

"And you think Moorim intends to eliminate me through some lowly Seers? By this vision that would be told?" Daemon inquired amusedly. Because indeed, that had to be one of the most ridiculous things he had heard in the twenty-two years of his existence.

The fact that a seer of an unknown name and equally unknown origin would bring down a man such as himself.