“It’s a boy,” bellowed a tall man; he was almost the size of a tree more suited to the fighting of bears than giving sermons, dressed in a white robe with golden trims and with the Siegel of a golden flame it refined him somewhat. His giant hands lifted me towards the rafters and began an arching motion; upon doing so, reverberating applause came from the crowd that had assembled. The man then started to kneel and presented me towards another; he was dressed in a purple tunic simple at first glance; however, it had been ornated with small golden flames; he was completely bald, nothing sitting upon his head but a golden crown… That man was the king. He was my father. 

I had been reborn into the kingdom of Ashbury, a newly conquered province by my father, Kestutis, the first. After my birth, I rarely saw him again as My father sent me to a palace outside the capital until I was ready and could be of use to the kingdom. Until that point, the priest Mindaugas had looked after me; Mindaugas was the giant priest who helped deliver me. He schooled me in kingship taught me to read and write. If this was my first life, I might have grown up believing he was my father. As time passed on, I was told about how the king had remarried as my mother had died in childbirth and how the new queen had helped the kingdom grow as she had been the daughter of a prosperous king whose port nation was essential for trade. By my tenth birthday, I had become quite the poet due to my language lesson and had collected a knack for charming the staff around the palace to get my own way. Today was a special day as my father, the king, was coming to celebrate, and after today I would be moving to the capital and be named his successor. He had visited a few times before this; however, he spent time with his retainers, drinking, going on hunts, or having confidential talks with Mindaugas. The day moved on, and my father never showed. I waited all day by the main gates to the palace, but he did not show. As I walked through the caught yard, something seemed wrong while we were never fully staffed, you would still be able to hear the cook’s laughter as they cleaned in the evening, but there was nothing but silence. 

I walked into the hallway. It was dark. The candles had not yet been lit; only the light of the waning moon shone through the windows obscuring the tapestries that lined the passage in shadow. At the end of the corridor, I saw Mindaugas knelt with his head slumped forward in almost a prayer; however, nothing was holy about this. His pristine white robes had been sullied with splatters of blood as his neck was cleavages open. I felt a shiver of dread run down my spine as I tried to flee, and another as a cold Blade met my throat, and once again, I was in the darknesses. 

Okay, so I’ve been a 9-5 office lay about and a prince. Now it’s my turn to fade to nothingness. No queue the bright light, the crying, and what is that.