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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Fanfiction · #1250639
A past full of betrayal and death leads to a lie of a future...
On the eve of the new year fifty five years ago a great tragedy occurred. A betrayal, which everyone would assume not to be such, took place. Our kingdom has suffered greatly since…but for you to understand I must take you back to the time before its occurrence, not long before but enough. So I now take you back eight days before the eve of this New Year…and the day our kingdom crumbled.
It was brilliant day. The sun was high and the sky clear and blue. Not a cloud filled the sky. All sorts of birds flew high above the trees, soaring and diving. The horses whinnied excitedly as they pawed the ground. Stephen climbed into the carriage after saying his goodbyes to his wife, Rachel, and son, Ronald. His other son, Ralf, gave his mother a final hug and disheveled his little brother’s hair. He then followed his father into the carriage and closed the door. They both waved goodbye out the window as the carriage jerked forward. One last figure stood to see them off; Frederick Koff, Stephen’s advisor, stood far back behind Rachel and Ronald. He stood arms crossed with a solid expression and the look in his eyes was evil and menacing. He did not wave back at Stephen and Ralf though Rachel and Ronald did.

The carriage was now well on its way to its destination in the Jliem empire. Stephen and his son were traveling to Lujylwyv Am Zykvyl, or the Marble City. With a short cut they could be there in three days, and three days is all it took.
Within three days Stephen and Ralf had reached the Marble City. When they arrived they entered the city with awe. Stephen had been here before, but every time he had the same reaction to its great beauty and wonder. This was Ralf’s first time and he was amazed.
The entrance was grand. It stood tall and of fine white marble. The gate was silver and gold closing the space under the arch. A great wall made of the same great marble spanned from either side of the entrance gate. Archers filled posts in the wall and above the gate in the arch. Two guards stood on each side of the gate. They both held a long spear in one hand. A sword also hung around each waist and a bow and quiver slung over their backs.
The carriage stopped in front of the gate and the driver handed a letter to the guard on the right. The guard quickly read over the note and gave a sort of signal. The great silver and gold gate gleamed as it opened inward toward the city. When the gates came to a stop the carriage jerked forward once more to conclude its journey. The gates shut again after a clear passing by the carriage.
The city before them was amazing. There were tall white buildings and smaller buildings all in the same. All were made of the great white marble. Every building, either for a poor man or a rich man, was elegant. The grass was lush and green. The pathway they drove on was made of a fine grey rock. All was in order. The city was not too loud, but it was not quiet. Everyone seemed happy and cheerful.
As they traveled down the street building by building passed. Every bit of the city was greater than ever imaginable. When the movement ceased they were in front of a tall tower-like building. Stephen opened the door and stepped out. Ralf followed, looking all around him surveying every inch with awe.
The men entered the tower through a tall white door. Inside the floor was now a green marble, reminding Ralf of the ocean. Before them was a set of white swirling stairs. Stephen and Ralf began climbing the tall staircase to the top of the glorious tower.
When Stephen and Ralf reached the top, they entered a large room through a small wooden door. Inside a long black table stood. At it sat a man. Next to the man was a woman. The man motioned toward two empty seats and asked them to be seated. Ralf and Stephen took their seats.
After a portion of the discussion the door opened and in came a young boy and an older girl. The man at the table, whom Ralf learned to be his father’s close friend Arnold, asked Ralf to leave with his children. His daughter, Hope, was sixteen and his son, Gregory, was eight. Ralf left with them and soon after exiting another discussion began. 
Daphne, Arnold’s wife, retrieved Ralf and Hope; Gregory had fallen asleep, but he was not needed anyhow. Back in the room with the table Ralf and Hope were seated. Arnold cleared his throat and spoke.
“Ralf, your father and I have decided it would be best for you to stay with us for a while.” Ralf looked dumbfound at his father. All Stephen did in reply was make a nodding gesture. Hope blankly stared at her father awaiting an answer. “It is in the best interest of our families for you two to marry.”
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