One A Prophecy

My name is Vaaran.

Vaaran Ea’llatien the Fourth is my proper title, but I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before. Other than at my Birthing of course, but perhaps only that one time. My family calls me Vaaran, my brother and sister call me Vaar. I don’t think that I have any friends; it’s hard to tell these days.

Once, I think, before I really knew the difference, I played with a Common Faerie, and we told each other that we’d always be the best of friends, until the day we died.

That day came sooner than we’d thought- he was killed by the Royal Army two weeks later.

Since then, it’s just been the three of us.

No, wait, that’s unfair of me.

I’m forgetting about Aanaja, who follows my sister around like a dog, and insists to be taken everywhere that we go. She’s our cousin, but she’s too young for me to really count as a close confident, since she still can’t pronounce my name.

You’re probably wondering why her parents don’t keep her away from us, or why she doesn’t have a nanny looking after her.

The truth is, they’re all dead.

The Commons attacked us about three months ago, and many members of my family were killed, but that is the way of life.

You’re either foolish and attempt to pull off a frontal attack, where you are promptly killed, or you survive, feeding each other false knowledge, hiding, and waiting for the next attack, where you will kill off those who stupidly attacked you.

It is well known between both sides that those who attack first usually die first.

It is the way of war, and it is the way of the world which I had grown up into. Our people have been warring for decades. I don’t know how long it’s been, or when it started, or even if it will ever end.

Taaraja, however, seems to think that it will.

She’s the youngest between the three of us: I, Kajkaan, and her. She believes that one day, the rightful ruler of the Faeries will rise to the position, and calm the battling sides. She’ll constantly recite the prophesy made, telling us Faeries of the day when the Faerie King will stand up and peace will be restored to our forests.

That prophesy was made at my birth.

I am to be that King.

A/n Okey! First Chappie is up…whew. Review, pweese. I need cookies…and chocolate…runs off, looking for sugar