Sharp sounds buzzed in King James's ears. He recalled that just minutes ago, he had delivered a final blow to some of the
oppressors of his mighty brethren in arms. Or was it seconds? His vision was blurry, but he could see a fallen figure nearhim and another smaller one crouching near it. For a moment, though, he was distracted by the rising black smoke from around the damaged castle he always called home.

He struggled to stand up properly, but managed, after shifting his weight on his legs, to pull himself together. The sight of his kingdom nearly in ruins devastated him, but the fight was finally over and they had won the battle. His long, recently scraggly, black hair fell to a length just above his shoulders, his beard was unshaven and a bit messy, and his golden eyes that resembled the light of the sun gleamed in grief for all that was lost. He was young… twenty-eight years of age according to how his people measured age, and still he lived long enough to witness the decimation of so many innocent people.

Suddenly, the gracious yet fierce king's eyes darted crazily in front of him, into blank space, as if having just recalled an issue of great importance. He turned around sharply, still making sure to keep himself steady, and stared at the tragic spectacle before him. "No," he whispered softly as he stared at her lifeless body. "No!" He ran, stumbled, and finally dragged himself meekly to her. At once, he reached for her hand and did not flinch at the cold touch. He grasped it tightly, and held her face with his other hand, caressing it gently and tracing her suddenly grayish features. "No," he whispered once again as he closed his eyes tightly, allowing for several tears to escape. "Keyna, please. Open your eyes. Breathe. Say something. Anything! Please!" He shook uncontrollably from his silent sobs. Nothing. She did nothing.

King James's sobs and sniffles continued on for what seemed like forever. He seemed crazed by the prospect of his dear Queen's unfortunate death. His eyes shone like bright little suns (only the colored parts of the eyes shined, the pupils still showed), only heightening the emotional distress emanating throughout the atmosphere. Their kind were not quick to love, but when they did, it was true and it was forever. The energy they shared was an extension of their entities, their very cores, and losing her was… there was no equivalence for it… no comparison. His breathing gradually slowed down and he tried to control himself after his nervous tantrums, but his eyes still shined brightly, tears falling one after the other.

He turned around slowly and saw the small boy with short ruffled light brown hair, beautiful eyes that resembled the sun and that shined like it when lit up, and tears on his soft pink flustered cheeks. King James opened up his arms slightly, and not even seconds later the boy jumped into them. He cradled his son, his little boy, rhythmically and pat his head.

"Don't worry, Aaron. It's going to be alright." He paused for a moment. "Nothing," he said, "no one will hurt you now. I've got you, son."

Aaron panted hard at the sight of his mother from behind his father, and tried to make peace with the image. But it was too harsh… too brutal. Instead, he buried his face into his father's chest and cried quietly. His body quivered in fear at the unknown future ahead of them, eager for the safety and security he felt in his mother's arms. But soon, he found those in his father's embrace as well and began to calm down a bit. King James kissed his son's head and rested his chin on it, locking Aaron in his warm and loving arms, still gently cradling him.

His eyes drifted a little into the distance as he spotted two bright eyes peeking out at them from a bush that was on the other side of what used to be a castle wall. The life within those eyes was striking in comparison with the dark gloomy image of broken walls, dead bodies, and what seemed like a hostile take-over by streaks of gray and black.

He whispered to his son, and Aaron turned around and saw the same blue eyes staring at him fearfully as well. King James slowly stood up and walked over to the bush. He then stopped in his steps and bent down on his legs in a sitting position and murmured to the one hiding in the bush.

The female eyes drooped sadly at the sound of her name, and her small form popped out of the bush. As old as Aaron, she was a bit shorter than him, had long dark brown wavy hair, white-pinkish skin, and big beautiful turquoise blue eyes.

She tried to control herself in front of the King and her best friend Aaron, but she could not restrain herself from whimpering before a flood of her tears were shed. James's soft voice emitted comfort and love.

"Come here, sweetheart," he said, and with that she slowly and calmly crawled into his fatherly arms and placed her reaching arms around his neck; she held him as desperately as a newborn held its mother, fearful of being let go. She cried into his shoulders. He held her with one hand on her head as he embraced her the way a father would, and he rested his other hand on his son, pulling him closer into the embrace. Aaron held her as well, keeping the last two people he cared about as close as possible.

And they stayed there together as such for as long as needed before they found the courage to face life once more.

Author's Note:

Hello all :) This is my first story ever. Just want to test the waters out here on Fictionpress.

I would love for any of you to review and let me know what you think, addressing any problems and/or inconsistencies along the way as well. I would appreciate a bit of gentleness, but I am very much open to criticism to improve my writing in all aspects. PM me with any questions you have (or put them in the reviews even) and I'll answer to the best of my ability.

Thank you :))