My name, is Gaius Magnus Acisulus, Crown Prince to the now destroyed Kingdom of Vernassia. I know not why our Aeran friends chose to betray us, or I should say more accurately be forced, to betray us.
Never had I seen anything of this nature, their eyes clouded over as if death itself came for us. The veins like a darkened sludge pumping cursed blood through them, I can still remember their eyes. They began weeping, tears of blood, rivers of red staining what was once delicate and happy filled face; became fraught with a terrible, maddening laugh. I watched as my best friend, clutched his head in agony, crying out in a most horrific scream.
I tried to stop him, tried to help my younger brother Faelar, I didn't want to kill him. He left me no choice! It does not matter now, I remember looking over my city, my country... Fires burning in what was once pristine, alabaster stonework, paved roads. It painted my country in a furious red, accented only by the darkest shadows. I heard my countrymen cry in fear and pain, as they were assaulted. My mother and father, came to find us and lead us away. We made it to the harbor via passages the monarchy had installed during the Great War. As we reached our ship to escape, I heard my mother cry in pain, time slowed as I turned and witness her fall. I vaguely recall us screaming for her, an arrow through her chest, my father rushing forward sword clutched in hand, as I brought my bow forward, he was shouting and begging us to leave. The ship began to leave, and me calling for my father to join us quickly, that he could still make it. An arrow, pierced through his leg, and in retaliation I shot my arrow, tearing through another friend's chest. Faelar leapt off the railing of the ship before I could stop him, slamming onto the pier and rushing forward. A grinning high elf, wounded my father as Faelar took my father's blade and threw it to the ship, only to be knocked unconscious. The high elf made eye contact with me, as his eyes continued to weep rivers of red, and beheaded my father. With the bodiless heady of my father held in hand, weeping blood and the backdrop of my burning city. I could only pray to Tyr that we would be able to rebuild. The ship was headed to Lazduhn on the Eastern side of the continent, I can only hope to find allies amongst them.
~Gaius Magnus Acisulus, age 30.
Loading comments...