Chapter One: Death

The day was beautiful, with dark grey clouds hanging in the air, and a cool breeze fluttering over the land. A small sparrow soared through the air, singing hapilly in the dimmed day's light. As the bird flew over a small field, full of happiness, full of freedom, a dark shadow fell across it. Instantly, it's singing ceased, and it dared a look back. The sparrow's black eyes filled with fear, a terrified screech left it's beak, and was quickly silenced. Dark jaws snapped around the small bird's form, breaking it's bones, crunching it in it's massive mouth. No longer did the singing waft through the dismal day, to be spread throughout the land on a ribbon of breeze.

Below, in the field, two figures stood; one with wide-eyes and tears forming in her eyes, and the other watching as the predator, a miniature dragon, fly back to his outstretched arm.

"That...was horrible." whined the girl, glancing at the young man that stood besides her. Her dark, chocolate brown eyes were close to tears as she stared at him.

"That was death, princess." Muttered the white blonde-haired boy, commonly known in his land as Prince Faolan, son of the despicable, evil queen, Isabella. His voice was monotone, with only a slight hint of annoyance. Faolan glanced at the girl, his captive and charge, Princess Saraline.

Glancing away, Saraline stared at the ground, her dark brown hair falling down the sides of her face, curtaining her away from reality. The teenage girl bit her bottom lip, resisting the urge to cry over the life of the small sparrow that had just been cut short. How many had heard that small bird's song? How many were cheered up because of it? And now, it was all gone, in a quick snap of the dark blue dragon's jaws, never to resurface.

Faolan let the girl grieve a moment or so, before grabbing her arm and dragging her through the field, "C'mon, princess, we're going back to the castle." His voice held a slight contempt, directed towards Saraline. The small, navy-blue dragon rode on Faolan's shoulder, eyeing Saraline with light yellow eyes.

The princess kept her head ducked down, not wishing to meet Faolan's violet eyes. Faolan glanced at her, and instantly was struck with a memory. The memory of the first day they met, and why she was under his care for the time being.

Saraline was being dragged into the throne room, her head bowed. She was biting her bottom lip, or so Faolan assumed from where he sat besides his mother's throne. He sat on the steps, leaning his back against the side of the throne, one leg slung over the steps, the other bended. The blonde, young man looked slightly angry, with his arms crossed, and a glare in his eye.

He didn't care too much for foreigners to enter his home, his castle. For one, if they were also royalty, they seemed to think he was under them, just because his family was a long line of Black Magic users. Secondly, captives usually tried to run away, only to be caught by the many monsters that lurked around the castle and the castle grounds.

'Stupid morons.' Faolan would think this every time he watched one run past the observatory doorway as two black hounds made of shadow would follow in the runaway's wake.

In the throne sat Faolan's mother. She was a beautiful woman, with smooth ivory skin that sparkled like snow in the sun. Isabella's eyes were both differently colored; one was dark violet, and the other was a soft green. Piled on her head, her dark red hair sat, and nestled in her hair was a simple, white gold crown.

"Ah, Princess Saraline." Isabella stood up, gracefully her long, white dress played about her body, almost like a ghost. Slowly, she walked down the three small steps, away from her throne, and walked to the girl, "How wonderful for you to join us here."

At the sound of her captor's voice, Saraline looked up, trying to look brave, but only suceeding in looking uncomfortable. The queen's voice rang thorugh the throne room, like a church bell cutting through a winter's day.

"I don't believe I had much of a choice, now did I?" asked the girl, meekly, as she glanced at the two guards still tightly holding her arms. Isabella smiled, almost motherly, as she neared the girl. Reaching out a pale hand, she lightly grabbed hold of Saraline's chin, and forced the girl to look her in the eye.

The queen's bi-colored eyes seemed to drill into the princess's soul, seemingly searching for something. Whatever she found, she must have approved, since she smiled lightly again, and released Saraline's chin. Faolan wondered what she had been looking for in the first place. If this girl was like any of the other princesses they held hostage, then Saraline's eyes must have been as empty as her head.

However, the blonde didn't have much time to ponder this, because Isabella turned around sharply and looked over at her son. "Faolan, dear, please come here."

Sighing, as if agitated, Faolan got up from his seat, and descended the stairs, slowly strolling to his mother. "Yes, mother?" He looked Isabella in the eye, his voice monotone and emotionless.

"Faolan, darling," drolled Isabella, putting a hand on her son's shoulder, smiling slyly. Faolan inwardly winced, knowing that look. She was planning on incorporating him into one of her hair-brained schemes, "Son, won't you look after this lovely young princess?"

This time, the violet-eyed prince cringed outwardly. Frowning, he opened his mouth to negate his mother's attempts at getting him tangled into her plan. But, she went on, as if he hadn't even done anything.

"We wouldn't want any nasty hero bursting into our castle, and taking our little hostage, now would we?" Isabella smiled sweetly, as she continued on, "That would thwart my plans horribly. No doubt there'll be a hero, coming to save Saraline, she is such a pretty young girl.

"But, mo-"

"You do remember my plans, don't you, darling? Princess Saraline needs to stay in our captivity until her father decides to agree to the ransom." The red-head queen kept her smile on her lips, as if it had always been plastered there, "How else to you expect to be a great king, Faolan? You need land. The more land you obtain, the greater your reign will be."

Faolan sighed, and rolled his eyes. Crossing his arms, he again opened his mouth to protest, but his complaint was cut short. Bursting through the doorway, one of Isabella's many messengers ran up to her. He was gasping for breath, and holding a roll of parchment, obviously it was something important.

Eyeing the gasping man for a moment, Isabella snatched the parchment and glanced over it. Her eyes narrowed, obviously displeased with something. A slight black aura formed around her hands, and the parchment dissipitated into nothing. Glancing at her son, her captive princess, and the others in the room, she sighed.

"I'm sorry, but this meeting must be cut short. Faolan, watch over Saraline." With that said, Isabella stormed from the room, her dress billowing out behind her. The blonde just stood there, watching his mother leave with a displeased look on his face. Soon, the guards dismissed themselves, along with the wheezing messenger. Thus, left Faolan and Saraline alone, to stand and stare at each other in uncomfortable silence.

A weight flying off his shoulder disturbed Faolan from his flashback. Glancing to where his dragon had sat, he saw his shoulder was vacant of the small, mythical lizard. Scanning the sky, he finally heard the soft cooings of his dragon. Only, it wasn't from the sky, it was besides him.

Looking to his side, Faolan saw the dragon now sat on Saraline's shoulder, squeaking and cooing. It was almost as if his pet was trying to comfort Saraline. The princess just stared at the dragon, not sure if she should be horrifed into tears, or whether she should smile lightly at the dragon.

"Kitchka," snapped Faolan, lightly glaring at the dragon. Instantly, Kitchka's small head snapped up and swiveled to look at its owner. Tilting his blue head to the side, Kitchka squeaked in a questioning tone, wondering what he did wrong.

"Return." Faolan ordered, jerking his shoulder, where Kitchka usually rode on, up. The blue dragon almost seemed to pout, but threw one sorry glance at Saraline, before returning to his dark prince's shoulder. Throughout the rest of the walk, back to Faolan's castle, all three were silent.

It struck Saraline as odd, that nothing was making noise. But, then again, they were near an evil queen's castle. Around which were many mythical, horrid creatures that silently lurked in all the shadows of the courtyard. And in her personal opinion, one of those horrid creatures was named Faolan. The young man could be so infuriating. But, she couldn't do anything against him. She was a hostage, and was being treated exceptionally well for a captive.

The silence actually gave Faolan comfort. He knew the creatures around his mother's castle would never harm him. In fact, as a child they were sometimes his playmates. Where a monster was one child's nightmare, it was Faolan's pet, or friend. So thus, the young man held no friendly feelings towards most other humans. This dark prince viewed most others as stupid, ignorant cowards. Thus, he didnt' associate with many humans, only those around his castle, and his mother.

"Sir Faolan?" Saraline's voice was soft, and she glanced hesistantly at the prince. It was one of his rules that she must refer to him as Sir, or Lord. Or else she'd be thrown into the dungeons.

The violet-eyed young man sighed, before replying as if Saraline was a hassle, "What?"

Hesistantly, Saraline pressed her lips together, before going on, "Can you let go of my arm? Or loosen your hold? I think you're brusing me."

Faolan glanced at her, an eyebrow raised. Her voice was almost as soft as a light breeze that would brush against his window at night. Rolling his eyes, in disgust, he snorted, but complied with her request by loosening his grip on her arm.

She smiled up at him, murmuring a slight, "Thank you." before falling silent again. Faolan didn't mutter a reply to her 'Thank you'. Instead, he kept his eyes locked on the castle that was a twelve or so yards away. Kitchka watched this small interaction, tilting his head to the side. Obviously, the small dragon had never seen his owner actually comply to a request from a person foreign to the castle.

Together, the three walked in silence, no longer speaking as they finally touched the steps that led up to the door of the castle. Just as the dark prince was reaching out to open the door, THWAK! An arrow embedded itself into the thick wooden door, right where Faolan's hand would have been.

Wheeling around so quickly Kitchka nearly fell off her perch, Faolan glared at the perpetrator who just triled to impale his hand. Saraline turned too, hoping to see her knight in shining armor, hoping beyond all hope she'd finally be saved from this dark and dreary castle. Yet, her hopes were slightly dashed, when she saw the archer.

He wasn't her knight. He wasn't Blaise, the one who was supposed to save her form this wretched palace. This was some unfamiliar face. Yet, if he succeeded in saving her, she'd hold no qualms about it. She'd be very grateful indeed.

"I am here to save the fair Princess Saraline of the empire F'lasia!" hollered the archer, as he knocked another bow. His eyes glared at Faolan with such deep vehemence, that, for a moment, Saraline wasn't sure if she wished to be rescued by him.

Faolan only snorted, and stared at the archer with an unamused glare.

"Release her, vile prince of Darkness!" ordered the archer, taking aim, "Or else I shall pierce you through the heart."

This time, the white-blonde prince laughed. A deep mocking laugh, dripping with the feeling of superiority. "Come now, you meager-minded imbecile. Do you think I even have a heart?"

Saraline glanced at Faolan, her eyes wide as she watched him. The prince seemed amused, as an evil smile crept over his lips, and his eyes flashed with a carnal, animalistic glow. The princess's eyes widened slightly as she felt the air around Faolan tingle. That meant he was charging his magic, and was about to use it against this archer.

"Die, you cold-hearted scum!" The archer launched the arrow. The arrow launched through the air, a small whistling sound cutting through the air as the arrow sliced through wind friction. Saraline screamed, Kitchka shrieked, and the arrow exploded. Falling to the ground in splinters, Saraline peeked her eyes open, which she had shut just as the arrow launched towards Faolan. She saw a black spike of dark magic jutting from the ground.

The girl's eyes held a glitter of awe, as she realized that Faolan shattered the mobile arrow in mid-air just as it was about to hit him. Glancing at Faolan, she realized he didn't even seem worried. The dark prince didn't even bat an eye.

However, the archer was glaring with unfathomable anger. This time, he whipped out five arrows from his quiver, and shot them all at Faolan simutaneously. And, simutaneously, all the arrows exploded into a shower over splintered wood by spikes made of shadow. The archer kept shooting arrow after arrow, determined to land one. And, arrow after arrow, each was broken into millions of wooden splinters.

"Are you quite finished yet?" Faolan watched the archer with unamused eyes. His hand was held out slightly, to help guide the spikes of magic up where they needed to be.

"You wish!" roared the archer. Huffing from anger, from exaustion, the archer reached back again. Suddenly, his face paled, and his eyes widened.

Saraline watched the man starting to tremble, and she wondered what was wrong. Then, her eyes fell to the ground, which was almost carpeted in splinters from the arrows.

"Oh..." whispered the girl, realizing that the archer must have used up all of his arrows. Then, she heard Faolan's voice cutting harshly through the air.

"Thank you for wasting my time. Now die." Saraline stared up at Faolan's eyes, which were starting to change into a deep crimson red. The girl gasped, as she realized that the dark prince was muttering one of the most powerful incantations under his breath.

"Faolan, don't." whispered the princess, biting her bottom lip. Her eyes darted back to the archer, who had fallen to his knees. The man kneeled there, obviously sobbing. Saraline could vaguely hear soft pleas for mercy. Feeling the own man's dispair, Saraline felt tears starting to enter her eyes.

Distracted from his incantatoin, Faolan glared down at the girl, miffed. He almost snapped at Saraline for not referring to him as 'Sir Faolan', but let that mistake slide this once.

"Don't do what?" snapped the dark prince, still holding his open hand out towards the defeated archer. Kitchka had hidden his face behind his scaly arms when hearing that familiar incantations, but lowered them upon hearing the incantation cease. The dragon looked curiously to his owner, seeing the young man miffed, then Kitchka's eyes fell to Saraline.

The girl's eyes slowly drifted up to Faolan's face. Kitchka squeaked, seeing tears forming in Saraline's eyes, and even Faolan was slightly taken aback for some reason.

"Don't kill him." Saraline's voice trembled, as she tried bravely to keep her tears from spilling. Yet, a few drifted from her eyes, and slowly fell down her face. Quickly, she wiped them away, and looked down, ashamed and embarassed by the tears.

Faolan was silent for a moment, but Kitchka made a short, tearful squeak. Glancing back at the archer, who was still softly pleaing for mercy, Faolan sighed. His hand fell to his side, and he glared at the archer.

"Get off my land," Hissed Faolan, his voice dripping with disgust, "Tell no one that you came here. Tell no one I let you leave. I'll find out, and you will not be able to hide from my vengeful wrath."

The young archer looked up at the dark prince, his mouth slightly agape. Kitchka and Saraline were equally surprised. Another first that the small dragon never saw: Faolan showing mercy for a defeated opponent. Saraline was just amazed that the evil prince was actually listening to her, and that he was going to swallow his pride and let this man leave.

Glaring angrilly, Faolan waited for his defeated foe to get up and leave. However, the archer remained immobile.

"Well, what are you waiting for!?" Barked the dark prince, "Get up, and get outta here! Never come back!"

Scrambling to his feet, the archer called a thank you out at Faolan. As quick as his feet would take him, the lithe warrior was running away from the castle. Soon, the man was out of sight, yet Faolan continued to glare in the direction the man went. Faolan almost regretted letting the man leave, the man deserved to die to think that he could stand up against a prince of Dark Magic.

"Thank you, sir." Squeaked Saraline, almost inaudibly. Faolan's gaze was directed back to her, and he snorted in contempt. Kitchka was still slightly dazed at the fact of Faolan showing mercy.

"Whatever, princess. I didn't want you carrying on a tantrum over that imbecile's death." Growled the dark prince. Turning sharply to the door, Faolan kicked it open, and quickly went into the castle. After a short moment of debating, Saraline followed, not wishing to try her luck with running through the courtyard. The archer may have known of a way to get by all the monsters, but Saraline was clueless.

Many miles away, the archer leaned against a tree, gasping for air. His sprinting had carried him to the shelter of a forest. Letting the adrenaline in his viens slow dissipate, the man let a slight grin fall over his features.

"Princess Saraline, you are a miracle-worker." Whispered the man, closing his eyes and bathing in the feeling of still being alive. He was the only person who had fought Faolan, and who was still alive to retell the tale. Yet, retelling that tale would surely kill him.

Back at the castle, the teenage princess was sitting in her room, reading a book she 'borrowed' from Faolan's library. Reaching up, she tugged at her ear, which were starting to mildly burn and ring. Vaguely, she wondered who was speaking about her, but didn't get any deeper into that thought as she was pulled farther into the her readings.

End of Chapter One