Chapter 1

A Meeting Before Bed

She was crying. She knew she shouldn't be. God had blessed her with two children, twins. Both boys. But she was not happy. God had cursed one of her blessings.

Gideon had been born strong and healthy, not to mention beautiful with his bright turquoise eyes and black hair. He had been learning for a long time how to run a kingdom and defend its people, and he was doing well at it. He had been jousting ten years ago, by the time he was four years old. He would make a proud king one day.

But, Laban… he would doubtfully live to see that reign. She looked up at the tower they kept him in, for his own safety of course. Laban had been born albino. He was physically weaker than his brother, but that did not make him stupid. While Gideon was jousting in the courtyard for the first time, Laban was quoting laws and scriptures from memory. He quickly learned to read, write, and strategize for a battle, even if it was just on a chessboard. His white hair and red eyes would've seemed odd to the point of scary if you would have met him in the street.

But that would never happen. Laban could not walk the street. Nowadays he can barely walk. It tires him out too quickly and he has to sit down. She had had a special chair made for him so he could get around his room, but now he was getting even weaker. It seemed, with each passing day, as though he was going to die soon.

She watched the tower for a while longer and went back to bed. She couldn't do anything without rest. She would think of something tomorrow.

Up in the tower, Laban could not sleep either. He was anxiously rolling around the room on his oak wheeled, velvet cushioned chair and waiting. He looked out the window again. He watched her turn off the lamp and the room went dark behind the deep red curtains. Finally! He thought she'd never go to sleep!

Laban rolled to the table in the center of his room. The room was very simple, aside from a chess board a suit of armor standing beside the door and a tapestry with the family crest emblazoned on the deep red cloth with gold trim. There was a tall bookshelf to one side that was loaded down with scrolls and books about laws and religion. The table was a delicately carved, square dining table that would have been, not for the royal family, but for a poor noble, with a slender green cloth with gold trim running the length of it, but not quiet reaching the sides.

On it were a few items he had gotten as presents from people who felt sorry for him. Even Gideon had brought him a "trinket" he had found on a ride to the outskirts of the kingdom. If only Gideon knew what he had found…

Laban held it up. It was a pendant with a star like symbol on it, but with a strange hole in the center. Laban had only realised what it was when he'd looked through it. Then he'd looked it up in his reference books. He had found a similar drawing to the symbol. The book had said that the symbol was used by witches to summon demons.

He glanced through the hole.

First, he looked out the window. He could see the entire city in the daytime, but just smoke and clouds at night. But with the tool he held in his hand, he could also see demons crawling around, searching for people who were easy targets. He watched as they massed around an old man's house awaiting his death. More were flying up to chimneys looking for ways inside the houses.

Laban laughed at their attempts. They could only whisper in people's ears. No more than sprites.

He studied the pendant. It was said that a witch who had lived on the northern outskirts of the kingdom had used this pendant to strike a deal with a powerful Sorcerer King who had granted her great powers, but the armies of this kingdom had burned her alive in her house right after the deal had been struck.

Gideon didn't know of the stories, or else he didn't care. Either way, it was his loss.

Laban closed the heavy silk curtains and went to the center of his room. He began swinging the pendant around. The screeching noise was enough to wake the dead but nothing was happening. So he stopped and looked around.

Then he noticed a shadow in the corner of his room. "Are you…?"

A voice boomed through the tower, yet there was no disturbance, not even a ruffling of a page of the open book on the table, to show that it was really happening. "I know what you want, Laban Sebastian. But I require something in exchange." With every syllable, the shadow began to take the form of a man in a black cloak, hiding his face and head, but with a strange crown of antlers on his head.

Laban bowed in his chair. "Yes, sire! I will give you anything you desire!"

"You now are in debt to me, Lord Laban! You will follow my servant to the east. My plan for you will become clear then."

Suddenly, the voice was gone and the cloaked figure receded back into a shadow, but the shadow stood still in the corner. Laban, eager for a chance to walk outside and see his family's faces when they found out he could, nearly got up out of the chair before the shadow moved to stop him. He gasped in surprise.

"Sire said you aren't strong. Take it slow." The shadow grumbled deeply.

"That's right… I was a few days from dying, wasn't I? But I feel stronger now." He looked at his hands. "I'm getting stronger with every passing second. I can feel it."

"Sire said you will get strong."

"Fine." Laban said, nodding. After all, the four great cities were not built in a day, he reminded himself. He rolled over to his bed and climbed in, the shadow watching his every movement.

The next morning he did not get the chance to show his father he was stronger. Or his brother either. There had been an attack on the northeastern edge of the kingdom by several strange demons that weren't native to this area.

Laban waited at his window watching for the army over the horizon. He waited all day. His mother did not come to see him at mealtimes she usually did, which didn't surprise him. She was too weak to deal with death, even that of her own son.

A healer came into the queen's quarters. "Your majesty?" He saw her framed in the large chair the she sat in to take visitors. The room was now empty except the two of them and she was slouching wearily from not sleeping well the previous night.

"Your Majesty? Is something wrong?"

"Welcome healer." She paused for a breath. "Quince, you are my most trusted healer. I must ask, are you sure that nothing can be done for my son's condition?" she asked desperately.

The balding, chubby man looked at his weathered hands for a moment before answering. "Lady Kayla, I'm certain that Laban is living only because of God's favor. But, his heart cannot take a great strain. Should something misfortunate happen, he will not survive it."

"Misfortunate?" She looked up questioning.

"He needs rest, Kayla. And so do you. You worry yourself far too much. You'll put yourself out."

"Quince, I don't think I could rest. Laban and Gideon are all I have in the world. Them and Vince are my world. If something should happen to one of them…"

"Kayla, you have to accept things. Laban will not live much longer. The resting only prolongs the inevitable."

"So… there is no hope?"

The healer took a deep breath before speaking, "Kayla, I'm sorry, but… he's fought it for more than ten, almost fifteen years. I think that it would be best, for him, if you allow him to rest… in paradise."

He left her then, while she silently grieved what she believed to be the inevitable.

Soon, sunset came. Only then did Laban see the shining armor of the armies stomping wearily over the hills that separated the city from the northern boarder. His brother was leading them on a horse pulling a small wagon that was covered with a makeshift burial cloth.

Laban's heart practically smashed on the cold stone floor as he searched each of the soldier's faces for some inkling of a joke. Surely his father had not been defeated by mere demons? Surely not on the day he was to become strong! The day he would rival Gideon for crown! But as the crowd came to the city gates, there was no doubt of the good king's death.

The death of Laban's dreams. The death of Laban's chances at crown and pride from his father. All of it had died. Crushed like so many dried leaves in the healer's bowl.

Gideon got down from his horse in the center of the square in front of the tall church that was the center of the city. This place was symbolic to the towns people because whenever there was to be a gathering of some sort, any social event at all, it would happen here.

He removed his battle helmet with the vibrant red plume on top, the kingdom's color, and held it under his arms as if he was going to speak. The city became so quiet that Laban could hear every syllable from his place in the tower, behind and above the steeple of the church.

"Fellow countrymen! It is with great sorrow that I announce the untimely passing of our good king and my father, Victor Isaac Sebastian. He was a great king and ruler, and also a great father. According to his final wishes, I am to assume the crown. Does anyone dispute my rights as heir?"

Laban was going to shout out, but decided against it. He could not do such dishonor as to start a feud with his own brother. But, surely his mother would not forget him!

He searched the crowd and found her, in black gown and veil with her raven hair flowing down her back in waves due to no time to pull it into the usual bun, staring up at him with tears in her hopeless, sea green eyes.

"Then it is undisputed?" Gideon continued. Laban stared hard at his mother.

'Mother! Do you really forget me in such times as these?' he yelled with his ruby eyes. He knew she understood because she turned away in shame.

"Then it is decided. I, son of Victor Isaac Sebastian and Kayla Lionel Sebastian, of royal blood and sound mind do hear by accept the crown to do this country honor and prosperity so long as I am able!"

A cheer went up as the victory feast that had been prepared for his father now became Gideon's crowning ceremony. The high priest of the church was summoned for the "proper ceremony," which was basically the pomp and glory of their blessing on the new king.

Laban, after one final glare at the retreating backs of mother and brother, closed the curtains and turned away. How could they simply abandon him like this?! Had they no honor? Was the code of honor which all knights and royals live by nothing to them?

He was still brooding when the shadow that had made itself known as Phineas spoke up, now in his slightly human form. "We go now," he grumbled.

Laban looked up. That was right. He had a debt to pay. And he did not forget is honor, even in such times as these! "Yes. We'll go now. But how?"

"We go in shadows." Phineas grabbed the back of Laban's wheel chair and began to turn into a shadow again. Only this time, Laban changed with him.

Laban was confused for a moment, when the change began, he felt as though he were being pulled gently down into a pool of water, but there was no water, there was nothing. Nothing but calm… frightening calm. And he could not see, but he could sense. He knew where everything was. Even the ants in the walls were plainly noticeable to him now. He could only feel a slight pressure as Phineas began to push him towards their destination. The ride down the stairs, though it should have been rough, was easy as floating on a still lake.

No one noticed as a small shadow slowly made it's way first down the stair well, and then out the guarded city gates, into the forest and to the east.

Toward Donophan… Where a young princess was having her own problems.

Raighly paced in front of his room for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Macky? What's taking so long? Are you alright in there?"

A young voice filtered back to her. "I'm fine, Rai-Rai! Just getting my things!"

Raighly knew where this was going. He did it every morning. He didn't understand why he couldn't take everything he owned out to the courtyard to play during his lessons. He'd come out of the door, blue hair a mess and holding every item within reach until things would be trailing behind him.

Like clockwork, the door opened and there stood a very weighted down Macky with enough "things" in his arms to sink a merchant ship.

"Okay, Rai-Rai! I'm ready now!" his big green eyes danced hopefully.

"Hold it just one minute, young man!"

Macky lowered his head. He knew the routine as well as she did. "Only one, Rai-Rai?"

Raighly nodded, causing her violet hair to dance. "Only one."

Macky dropped the load just inside the door and grabbed a wooden horse that father had had made for him so he would maybe think about riding instead of toys or daydreaming.

Needless to say, it didn't work.

But Macky did like the wooden replica enough to label it as his favorite "lessons toy." He carried it with him everyday.

Raighly guided him down a few flights of stairs and into a library. When he entered he immediately took his seat at a small table in the center of the tall room and opened a little leather-bound book.

"Looky, Rai-Rai! I can read!" He said pointing to the book. "I've been practicing!" He stuck his nose in the book. He began repeating things from memory. This was obvious to Raighly because not only was the book upside down, but it was about the royal family's history.

"There are four main countries in the world. The one we live on is Shea, the most beautiful farmland in the world! And then there's Kohana to the north with all her forbidding forests and swamplands. And Briarcliffe to the west with all it's mountains and strange animals. And last there's Davingham, in the South, with all the great ship ports and herded animals."

Raighly nodded, knowing he had never learned to really read. He was trying. The problem was, he had stopped learning even the simplest things like that two years ago and she'd been hiding it from her father. She wasn't stupid. If Macky became known as "retarded" he would be killed as a shame to the family. Raighly didn't intend to let anything happen to her little brother.

Her reasons may have seemed noble and even honorable, but the real reason, the one Raighly was afraid to admit, was that she had no intension to become queen. In truth, she didn't care much for being royalty at all. She wanted so much more in life than to be some man's ornament, a prize for the highest bidder. As a matter of fact, she had refused all suitor offers at courting. Most men had begun to think she was a real snob, a regular snow princess from the northeastern most part of the continent.

'But what do I want? Women on the outside of the city walls aren't valued any higher than the princess… what is it that I'm looking for to do with my life?' she thought, her green eyes, eyes that everyone in the Kestrel bloodline shared, gazed off into nothingness. She wanted to be valued as something more than that. But what else was there? She was at a disadvantage to a boy at any working job, and female scribes were practically unheard of because that left no time for a family. And raising children is considered "women's work and life's lot".

She thought of her mother, being from a poor noble family who needed to pay a debt to the royal family. She had been sold at 15 to father for whatever purpose he found fit and wed to him less than six months later. She was just a bargaining chip to her family. Raighly refused to allow that to happen to her!

Soon two instructors came in. Raighly stood, confused. Usually, she and Macky had their lessons together, with only one teacher.

"Excuse me? What, may I ask, is the meaning of this?"

The male teacher, the one that she didn't recognize, walked straight over to Macky and grabbed him roughly by the arm. "New lessons for you, young man." Macky shook his hand off. He wasn't smart, but he was strong and fast for his size, with his long arms and lanky legs. The instructor seemed shocked for a moment, but then reached for him again.

Raighly stood in front of her brother, shielding him. "Says the law of the four kingdoms, you WILL show more respect for Crowned Prince Marcus Kestrel of Shea, Son of Patrick the Third!" her green eyes spat sparks at the wiry, bald man with a thin pointy nose and a sneer to match.

His coal black eyes narrowed in disgust. The man looked at her as if looking as a heathen child who needed to be punished. "Crowned Prince, heh? We'll soon see about that. If it's all the same to you, Princess, your father gave me strict orders to take your brother to him for an examination. Alone."

Raighly sighed. She had no power against her father's commands. She gave Macky one last look as he walked out the door looking curiously back at her.

The lady instructor sat down with a book and beckoned for Raighly to sit. "We left off at Chapter 12, the proper way to hold a welcoming ceremony. Now, you must always keep in mind that…?"

"Um…A refined woman… never speaks unless spoken to?"

"Correct. And the proper attire for a victory welcome?"

The lessons went on and on like that until noon. Raighly, in an eager and un-lady-like way, gobbled up her lunch and to her teacher's dismay, excused herself to go look for her brother.

She began in the wing with the Great Hall, which wasn't used unless there was a party or something of great proportions. To her surprise the lushly decorated hall was empty, the chairs and tables polished and the candles all new. Raighly realised the only people who'd been in here today were the cleaning servants.

She continued to search the east wing and dashed by a room with the door cracked and the lamp inside lit. She screeched to a hault and tip-toed towards the door.

It was a small meeting room. Raighly knew her father only used it for battle strategies and top secret meetings. It was in a part of the castle that the servants only visited once a week, late at night. It was remote and very private, with no windows and a large fireplace and a round table. The paintings on the walls depicted the greatest kings in the Kestrel line.

"…I'm sure it's the best for her. I assure you I will take excellent care of both her and the kingdom. All you need do is arrange it." Raighly couldn't recognize the voice, but she could tell it was someone fairly young, probably close to her age. She didn't have to guess who the "her" was. She immediately figured that this was another suitor.

"Yes, I do agree that it is best… but do we have to take such measures…?" She had never heard her father sound so uncertain before. She began to wonder if her assumption was indeed correct or if this was something much more important.

"You saw and heard the evidence for yourself. You would have the entire kingdom mock him?" Raighly instantly disliked this character. And she couldn't even see him! He had his back turned to her and he was wearing a long billowing black cloak and hood.

"Well, no, but he doesn't understand. Surely we can deal with this another way. He could go live with another family, in another kingdom. We could give him a new name and make sure he is well taken care of for the rest of his days." Raighly cringed. She was right. This was much more important than wedding her off.

"No! The people of this city wouldn't dare deny that the boy was never born and you know they'll look for his body until there would be nothing to look for!"

"I suppose you are right, Lord Laban. I will go tell Raighly of the wonderful news. But how should we deal with my son?"

"I will take him on a little hunting trip. Lots of things happen to young boys who do not know how to properly use a weapon." Raighly's heart was pounding. They couldn't! They wouldn't! She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to convince herself to wake up. Then listened carefully, praying to anyone who would listen that her father wouldn't really go through with something like THAT.

Patrick Kestrel the third hesitated for a moment. "Please do not speak of this so coldly. He is still my son." He turned to walk out of the room and Raighly hid. "I will be outside with Marcus in two days. That is when we'll…"

The figure nodded.

"Lord Laban, I'm sure since you traveled such a long way, you'd have no objections to having dinner with us…" They began walking down the corridor together.