Crystair, a land once ruled by a kind and gracious King. For endless centuries, the same bloodline forever sat upon the crystal throne, and the kingdom eternally flourished. It was a beautiful land, with silvery trees and lakes of the clearest, shimmering blue. To the east, on the glittering horizon, one would see the dark spire that represented the land of Umbra, its tip forever shrouding in its perpetual darkness. To the West lay Precipia, land of the winged ones, though they had long since gone into hiding.
There had long been a legend told to the children of Crystair; a fabled story of the one known only as “Lionheart”. In these stories he was a courageous man with the bravery of a hundred men and the ability to control the purest of light. It is said that with this light, “Lionheart” could destroy the darkest of evils, cleanse the hearts of the weary and relay messages of the recently deceased. But the children did not believe these stories, after all, surely such a great man could not exist?
Perhaps the most skeptical of all who heard these stories was the young Crown Prince. Even at the age of four, he found these ‘tall tales’ just a little hard to digest. On the one hand, he wished such a man existed, for the war with Umbra would finally come to an end and his parents wouldn’t keep him literally under lock and key. But another part of him knew such people were not real, that these heroes were nothing more than characters in stories to aid the children of the world to sleep easier and feel safer.
Umbra, the land of eternal darkness, an evil and foreboding place. No good had ever crossed its border with Crystair and for many centuries, the two kingdoms had been locked in war. However, a new power was rising in that gloom, driving towards the highest seat of power offered to it. In just one short year, he rose to the top and killed the current Queen in cold blood. Umbra know had a new king, a man so dark that even the shadows quaked in his wake. And yet he waited, biding his time. He knew that soon, his opportunity would come to take the eternally beautiful kingdom of Crystair.
Just after the Prince’s fourth birthday, a strange, bloodstained child was found wandering the village just outside the castle. A dagger gripped in her hand, the child was easily mistaken as an orphan of war. However, she had not merely found the dagger after witnessing her parents’ demise; rather she had indulged in the murder of a rather offensive man who seemed to think that she would return to his home with him by tempting her with sweet things. The young boy that found her did not think of things this way however. A brave child, he approached the girl and guided her to his house where she was quickly cleaned up and fed.
For four years, the girl refused to speak and the family into which she had been adopted feared that perhaps the child was dumb. Yet, she squashed this belief when she spoke the name of the boy who had saved her, and taken her under his wing. For a further four years, the girl spoke only to her new Brother, and would often follow him to watch him as part of the Royal Guard. It was on these little trips that the girl often saw the young Prince, and in time, she went with her Brother more to catch glimpses of the boy rather than to watch the training. The girl was slightly envious that her Brother seemed to be on quite friendly terms with the handsome young Prince.
And still the Tyrant and his Dark General, a man clad in dark armor who was believed to be no more human than shadow, waited. The Prince reached twelve and with it came the awakening of his inner light. A single soldier survived the attack up the Umbran border, only to die upon making it to the throne room. The Prince, however, was able to relay the message of the recently deceased warrior to his father, thus preventing the dark forces from invading Crystair’s border villages. The Queen, now fearful because of this show of power, appealed to the girl’s adopted parents. By this point, her wings had sprouted, revealing her to be of the Winged Ones bloodline, and the Queen, knowing the ferocity and skill of these naturally born assassins, knew the Prince would be in safe hands.
And so the Prince and the Assassin finally met. The Brother was promoted to Commander of the Royal Guard shortly after and three grew closer. It would be this bond that proved to be essential just six years later. Finally the time had come for the Tyrant to take Crystair and he did so with little to no resistance. Having waited so long in the darkness of Umbra, his forces had grown to outnumber those of Crystair and so it was not so much an invasion as a massacre. Yet the Prince, the Assassin and her Brother fought valiantly, getting to the throne room seconds to late.
The King and Queen lay slaughtered, Crystair’s new ruler sitting upon the throne. Upon resting eyes upon the Prince, the Tyrant ordered his death. However, the Assassin lived up to her title of the Prince’s personal bodyguard by dispatching of all who came his way. Not that she needed to worry, for she had learnt over the years that the prince was a very capable swordsman.
And so our story starts here, with the Prince, his bodyguard and the brother being chased from their lands by an army of Dark Soldiers. A handful of Crystair Loyalists find themselves following the Prince, even as the Dark soldiers close in. The commander of the Royal Guards orders the others to run whilst he fends off the soldiers, possibly trying to make up for the death of his King and Queen and his inability to save them.
The others listen to the commanders words, making a break for the border.
But what will become of them now?
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It was strange, this fear that gripped at the Assassin's stomach as she urged the Prince to move, her voice cold as she stared at him with her pale green eyes. "Prince, we need to get out of here. Once we get to safety, we can plan our next course of action..." The fear would not release her, she was well aware of the reason why, but the girl was adamant she was not going to allow the Prince to see this. She was supposed to be his bodyguard, his protector. Solstice would not admit to her weakness.
And yet her mind drifted back to Jacel, her dear dear brother. Just what was playing through his mind, Solstice could not be certain, and yet, having spent so many years with him, the girl knew his loyalty to the Kingdom would be a huge factor in his decision to allow the others to escape. "I don't know how long Jacel can hold them off..." Again it clenched her stomach, speaking these words as though the warrior might not survive the onslaught of dark soldiers. "He'll be fine... but we must get you out of here, Prince."
The Assassin adjusted her blade and looked to the loyalists who had shown their allegiance to the throne of Crystair. "Your loyalty... it is admirable. As soon as we find someplace safe, we'll start work."
It was then that it hit her. Just how on earth would Jacel follow them anyway? "We'll leave a trail..." It was a spoken conclusion as she slipped a hand into the skirt like decoration around her waist. She threw the first kunai and watched it land in the ground, white blade stark against the dark mud. "That way, Jacel will know which way we've gone. Come on, Prince. Jacel will be perfectly fine."
That fear gripped again.
There had long been a legend told to the children of Crystair; a fabled story of the one known only as “Lionheart”. In these stories he was a courageous man with the bravery of a hundred men and the ability to control the purest of light. It is said that with this light, “Lionheart” could destroy the darkest of evils, cleanse the hearts of the weary and relay messages of the recently deceased. But the children did not believe these stories, after all, surely such a great man could not exist?
Perhaps the most skeptical of all who heard these stories was the young Crown Prince. Even at the age of four, he found these ‘tall tales’ just a little hard to digest. On the one hand, he wished such a man existed, for the war with Umbra would finally come to an end and his parents wouldn’t keep him literally under lock and key. But another part of him knew such people were not real, that these heroes were nothing more than characters in stories to aid the children of the world to sleep easier and feel safer.
Umbra, the land of eternal darkness, an evil and foreboding place. No good had ever crossed its border with Crystair and for many centuries, the two kingdoms had been locked in war. However, a new power was rising in that gloom, driving towards the highest seat of power offered to it. In just one short year, he rose to the top and killed the current Queen in cold blood. Umbra know had a new king, a man so dark that even the shadows quaked in his wake. And yet he waited, biding his time. He knew that soon, his opportunity would come to take the eternally beautiful kingdom of Crystair.
Just after the Prince’s fourth birthday, a strange, bloodstained child was found wandering the village just outside the castle. A dagger gripped in her hand, the child was easily mistaken as an orphan of war. However, she had not merely found the dagger after witnessing her parents’ demise; rather she had indulged in the murder of a rather offensive man who seemed to think that she would return to his home with him by tempting her with sweet things. The young boy that found her did not think of things this way however. A brave child, he approached the girl and guided her to his house where she was quickly cleaned up and fed.
For four years, the girl refused to speak and the family into which she had been adopted feared that perhaps the child was dumb. Yet, she squashed this belief when she spoke the name of the boy who had saved her, and taken her under his wing. For a further four years, the girl spoke only to her new Brother, and would often follow him to watch him as part of the Royal Guard. It was on these little trips that the girl often saw the young Prince, and in time, she went with her Brother more to catch glimpses of the boy rather than to watch the training. The girl was slightly envious that her Brother seemed to be on quite friendly terms with the handsome young Prince.
And still the Tyrant and his Dark General, a man clad in dark armor who was believed to be no more human than shadow, waited. The Prince reached twelve and with it came the awakening of his inner light. A single soldier survived the attack up the Umbran border, only to die upon making it to the throne room. The Prince, however, was able to relay the message of the recently deceased warrior to his father, thus preventing the dark forces from invading Crystair’s border villages. The Queen, now fearful because of this show of power, appealed to the girl’s adopted parents. By this point, her wings had sprouted, revealing her to be of the Winged Ones bloodline, and the Queen, knowing the ferocity and skill of these naturally born assassins, knew the Prince would be in safe hands.
And so the Prince and the Assassin finally met. The Brother was promoted to Commander of the Royal Guard shortly after and three grew closer. It would be this bond that proved to be essential just six years later. Finally the time had come for the Tyrant to take Crystair and he did so with little to no resistance. Having waited so long in the darkness of Umbra, his forces had grown to outnumber those of Crystair and so it was not so much an invasion as a massacre. Yet the Prince, the Assassin and her Brother fought valiantly, getting to the throne room seconds to late.
The King and Queen lay slaughtered, Crystair’s new ruler sitting upon the throne. Upon resting eyes upon the Prince, the Tyrant ordered his death. However, the Assassin lived up to her title of the Prince’s personal bodyguard by dispatching of all who came his way. Not that she needed to worry, for she had learnt over the years that the prince was a very capable swordsman.
And so our story starts here, with the Prince, his bodyguard and the brother being chased from their lands by an army of Dark Soldiers. A handful of Crystair Loyalists find themselves following the Prince, even as the Dark soldiers close in. The commander of the Royal Guards orders the others to run whilst he fends off the soldiers, possibly trying to make up for the death of his King and Queen and his inability to save them.
The others listen to the commanders words, making a break for the border.
But what will become of them now?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was strange, this fear that gripped at the Assassin's stomach as she urged the Prince to move, her voice cold as she stared at him with her pale green eyes. "Prince, we need to get out of here. Once we get to safety, we can plan our next course of action..." The fear would not release her, she was well aware of the reason why, but the girl was adamant she was not going to allow the Prince to see this. She was supposed to be his bodyguard, his protector. Solstice would not admit to her weakness.
And yet her mind drifted back to Jacel, her dear dear brother. Just what was playing through his mind, Solstice could not be certain, and yet, having spent so many years with him, the girl knew his loyalty to the Kingdom would be a huge factor in his decision to allow the others to escape. "I don't know how long Jacel can hold them off..." Again it clenched her stomach, speaking these words as though the warrior might not survive the onslaught of dark soldiers. "He'll be fine... but we must get you out of here, Prince."
The Assassin adjusted her blade and looked to the loyalists who had shown their allegiance to the throne of Crystair. "Your loyalty... it is admirable. As soon as we find someplace safe, we'll start work."
It was then that it hit her. Just how on earth would Jacel follow them anyway? "We'll leave a trail..." It was a spoken conclusion as she slipped a hand into the skirt like decoration around her waist. She threw the first kunai and watched it land in the ground, white blade stark against the dark mud. "That way, Jacel will know which way we've gone. Come on, Prince. Jacel will be perfectly fine."
That fear gripped again.
