The tournament was to begin on the next full moon, which is in three weeks' time. Barely enough time for warriors, mercenaries and guards from all the Realms to travel to the dry Plains. I wish my father pushed the tournament back farther. Yet he did not due to our growing anxiety of when I may just be murdered thus we had to execute our plan sooner.

Unfortunately because of how soon it is to be held, the Kings and Queens of the Seven Realms are skeptical about the likelihood of their attendance. Though I still hope a Prince or Princess may be able to join. Maybe even a Mountaineer Prince or Princess. 

To be honest, no one was even sure if the Seventh Realm had a monarchy of their own but that doesn't stop me from hoping. 

Each Realm is ruled by a respected King or Queen, but the one that overruled all Seven Realms was the Emperor, my father. The Seven Realms were each named after their most abundant regions, the Plains, the Jungle, the Desert, the Forest, the Islands, the Coastal and the one that no one liked to speak of the Mountains. 

The ancient Mountain Realm was first established five hundred years ago after the Great War for Life. When the Realm was established it was to keep the outcast people and beast in a safe haven they could call their own. A King and Queen then emerged from the Realm, this was the first Emperor and Empress. They were then able to establish the six other Realms along with each respective Kings and Queens. 

The Emperor and Empress claimed they were only able to accomplish so much due to the power of the Mountains. In other words they were Mountaineers with powers. People immediately became intrigued with the Mountains and their ancient powers but were unable to expose any information besides the great stories and lore that came from the culture.

Stories of creatures that grown men feared, beasts that would make you cower like a child, animals that could devor ten men in one bite.

The castle soldiers used to scare me with the tales of these beasts. 

‘You’re a Mountaineer by blood.’ One would say.

‘They’ll come to take you back.’ Another chuckled as I drew my wooden sword.

I remember how my mother pat my head under an orange tree when I was seven and finally decided to confide to her just which soldiers had been bothering me and what suitable punishments should await them. 

Her soft voice spoke calmly as she comforted me. “Little Raven,” she cooed while patting my sun bleached hair with a warm gentleness. 

That day I shamefully looked up to her with frightened eyes, grateful to meet her rosy full lipped grin. She pulled me closer as she wrapped her arms around me, her pale hands stroking my cheek as she held me close. 

“Listen to me,” she said, placing her soft cheek against my head. “Those monsters are real but they’ll never hurt you because they can’t.” She said in a soft whisper only I could hear.

I still remembered how I looked up to her, my face full of confusion.“They won’t?” I squeaked.

Her sweet delicate laugh that felt like a summer breeze escaped her mouth, making many wonder, how could a human laugh with such perfection?

She paused and leaned away making sure no one was listening to our conversation. “Of course not.” She had said unaware her silk smooth hair was tangled with the tassels on my shoulder. “Our ancestors protect us from those monsters since we are one with the Mountain Realm.”

I stare at her wide eyed. “We are?” I asked as she pulled her hair out from my tassel.

She nodded, her green eyes turning into crescents as she smiled. “Indeed,” she paused thinking. “Well more specifically your great grandfather was from the Mountain Realm. He looked quite human but he was far more magical than the beings that lived there.” She smiled with a hint of sadness as she remembered him. “He once told me that the monsters abide by our commands since we have the blood of the mountain running through our veins.” 

She stood up straighter, turning her perfect face into a frown as she tried to imitate some strong warrior that was somehow related to me. “Well those creatures adore us, they would obey anything we ask and if they did not the descendents of the shield would punish them.” I chuckled at her voice that had turned deep and raspy, so different from her own.

“Who are the descendents?” I asked with a smile. 

Her face changed from a soft smile to a sad and almost disappointed expression. “I don’t know, but they will come when you need them most. I pray you will never be in that much trouble.”

She fixed her expression giving a soft smile that held confidence. “So do not freight my little Raven, you are strong and have the magic of the Mountains in your blood.” She locked stern eyes with me, captivating my full attention. “It may not be as strong as mine or your grandfather’s but it will be enough for even the fearsome behemoth to obey you.” 

She slowly stroked my flawless, pale face that was much like hers. “Be confident Prince Veran and do not worry,” she sighed most likely remembering that I was to be Emperor of the Great Continent Terra. “You are strong even without the crown and the magic.” She said, kissing my head with her poppy petal soft lips.

I slowly open my eyes as I laid on a soft cool pile of blankets. My hand grabs a fistful of the silky material before I blink very slowly staring up at the ceiling that is not my room’s. I wonder for a moment where I am until I turn my head to the velvet curtains that frame a grand window I had not looked out of in years.

I am in the highest tower of the castle, where the ceiling is painted with deities and angel’s while the window has an inviting velvet window seat.

Someone is trying to kill you, a voice in my head reminds me. That is the reason why my father sent me to the highest tower of the castle. To hide away until further notice.

I did not intend to fall asleep as I recalled the tournament’s approaching date. 

I let out a small sigh noticing Jonathan sits at the foot of the bed, his hand flipping the page of an old canvas book. 

I slowly turn to face the window as I realize that I was in fact dreaming of my mother. Something that has not happened in a very long time. I missed her and though I want to forget the day she had died I can't.

“Did you have a dream?” Jonathan asks, flipping another page. “Sounded as if you were calling out to the Desert Queen.” 

He is teasing me but I am in no mood for jokes as I stare out the window to the crystal blue sky. “Do you remember the day the Empress died?”

Jonathan tenses before closing his book, almost surprised that I am speaking of my mother after so long. “Yes,” he nods. “I was in the Jungle realm.”

He is uncomfortable as he speaks about my mother’s death. He has every right to be, it is something I had never spoken about except for with my father. My father, who was once horribly heart broken to the point of insanity, was the only man I could confide in about my grief. Now that he is better I try not to bring it up in fear he will fall apart all over again. The whole universe will never be able to create someone in her likeness ever again and we both knew that.

“That’s right you were still training in the Jungle Realm.” I mumble.

We are silent for a moment before Jonathan speaks again wanting to break the silence. “Where were you Veran?” 

He knows the memory of this room is picking at me and he is trying to carefully take the anxiety I am building up away.

I take a breath. “I was here.”

He nods, unsure what else to say. He has never been very good at comforting but neither am I, a flaw I should try to fix for the sake of my empire.

I scoff, shaking my head. “Sorry, this is something I shouldn’t be complaining about is it.”

“Why would you think that?”

I open and then close my mouth not wanting to bring up the fact that both of his parents were dead, killed in fact by slaves of the Desert Realm when he was only ten. 

“Veran,” Jonathan starts. “It’s okay if the memory still follows you, but if it haunts you, that is something that must be resolved.”

I look at his back letting the word haunt echo within the chambers of my mind. Perhaps I truly have no right to complain when my own cousin lost both of his parents. I still have my father and my sister for support. I wasn’t even sure if Jonathan is on good terms with his brother, King Miachgrn of the Jungle Realm.

“I understand.” I meet his eyes and smile so that he knows I am okay now. “Thank you.”

He nods and then leaps up. “Well,” he starts. “I am going down to the kitchen to get lunch, is there anything you would like?”

I sit up and reach for a book on my nightstand, beginning to open it to the page I left off on. “No,” I sigh. 

He bows low, his face sullen as he leaves me in bitter silence. 

I put my book on my chest and toss my head back in what feels like defeat. 

I thought the memory of that day no longer haunts me and is but a sad memory I kept locked away in my heart. Perhaps Jonathan is right, maybe the memory haunts me.

The day she died, she left for the grasslands behind the castle wall where she collected wild flowers for a sick person the Healer had been caring for. My mother stood beneath the few twisting oaks that lay on the plains observing as pilgrims, merchants and travelers passed through to the main city. I watched her through a golden spyglass I had found in the castle’s library wishing to have gone with her. Yet she insisted on going alone, claiming that, ‘The flowers would not grow in front of strangers.’ It was a strange thing to say but it wasn’t the first time she had ever said something so peculiar. She tended to say things such as, 

‘The ground is listening to us.’ 

‘The lives of all are connected.’ 

‘The mountains still call us.’ 

She was weird, there was no doubt about it. Yet I still obeyed her and stayed behind