Aron watched as the commander's face turned purple with rage. He lunged at the bars with murderous intent. “You mean to tell me that my queen for the last TWELVE YEARS has suffered through the loss of her daughter and her husband, and you just sat up here, with this knowledge!!!”

“Now now, temper, temper commander. Unfortunately for you, my death would in no way aid your efforts. You'll need me. If you want to obtain the information you so desperately desire that is. Why do you think I sent for King Oren and the little urchin in the first place?” Henrick stepped closer to the bars, his head reeling with questions.

“Ok. back up! I would like to know who this guy is?! And secondly, why are we looking for a princess, and why the hell does he need me!” King Oren once again turned to face his son, adopting the same understanding look and tone as before.

“Son, you have to realize, it's a long story-”

“Wait! Are you about to tell my story? With all due respect gentlemen, I feel I am the only one who can give an unbiased review. You’ll just say I was a monster and all that nonsense.”

“You were, you psychopath,” Varrp growled

“Either way, I never pass up the chance to tell a good story. So may I?” All eyes narrowed and he took this as a cue to further his argument. 

“Call it another last request” he drawled. It was King Oren’s small nod that permitted Mordal to continue.

“Perfect! Now, where can I begin? I guess our little story started when I was in my prime. I was the King's advisor; the second most powerful man in all of Mornea, possibly even all of Elvara. Now the King, King Ephraim was, in my opinion, absolutely horrible. He was old, had a short temper, and spent too much time caring for his people… Thinking about it now just makes me want to gag, but I digress. You see, the king possessed in his blood, magic-a rarity among us humans-and the king would use this magic to benefit the kingdom. Watching him squander his power like that made me hate him with every bone in my body.

“How could you hate a person for caring for his people?” Henrick asked. Mordal looked up and fixed the young prince with a glare.

“Because he wasted his gift on peasants! I saw its true potential! With his magic, King Ephraim could have ruled the continent, become an all-powerful god, controlling every man and magical creature from here to Goodmay, securing the power of Morena for centuries! I was granted that power by the gods after I fulfilled their destiny for this kingdom!”

“You were granted nothing by no one!” Commander Varrp snapped. “You stole that magic from my king; you killed him for your own gain!”

Mordal scoffed at the accusation. “Your king was weak. You say I stole his powers, I say I gained them. Either way I unlocked their full potential. He squandered his gift… I didn't.”

“What do you mean?” Aron asked.

“After he killed the king, and gained his powers, Mordal went on a warpath, taking over Morena and our neighboring country, Ensay. In the process, he killed and maimed thousands of innocent people. We thought that it couldn't get worse, but then he kidnapped the baby princess and tried to kidnap Henrick.” At this comment, Henrick grew pale.

“You tried to kidnap me!?”

Mordal brushed off the question with indifference. “What do you think I meant by my greatest failure?”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because he is a coward, son.” King Oren placed a heavy hand on his son's shoulder, but the thought of Mordalls actions left Henrick beyond consolation. Mordal, on the other hand, adopted an embellished look of shock.

“Coward! Now, Oren, Your words hurt more than the executioner's blade. My actions were anything but cowardly.”

“Really, then what would you call such a barbarous tactic!” Commander Varrp growled.

“I’d call it smart. You see, there was… or is, I honestly don’t know if she is still alive, a woman who lives on the eastern edge of this kingdom. Legend says that she is also magic, and thankfully for me, the legend was true. She foretold the future to me, claiming that two royal children, from two of the five kingdoms, would be blessed with magic in their blood. If they were ever to utilize these powers, then I would be defeated. When I discovered that you, Henrick, and a princess in Morena had “blessed” the world with your presence, I had to make a move that would secure my throne.”

“So you kidnapped the princess of Morena and tried to kidnap me. Just to hold onto power?”

“See! You understand. But like you said, I couldn't get to you. I guess when you kidnap a royal baby, news travels faster than normal.”

“Enough storytime,” King Oren said. “Mordal, you said you know where she is hidden, so where in the world is she?”

“Oh! She's not in this world! Did you honestly think I would be stupid enough to hide her on this god's forsaken island? No. You see, the same witch that foresaw my fate also created a potion that allowed me to access another world. To ensure that the little brat couldn't seek revenge on me and whatnot, I had one of my servants abandon her there. I’m afraid she's lost forever.”

“You MONSTER! You dare drag King Oren and his son here, confess that you know the location of my queen's only child, and then tell us she’s unreachable?! I ought to kill you right now!” Commander Varrp staked towards the cell door, and in a fit of rage, and yanked the door off its hinges. In one large bound, he reached Mordal and grabbed him by the throat. He was about to end the tyrant's life, but the voice of his cadet brought him back to reality. 

“Sir wait! I have one question!”

Mordal leaned to look at Aron. His nonchalant expression changed to one of curiosity at the boy who was addressing him for the first time. Aron met his gaze, a firm expression plastered on his face. “You have so far answered two of the three questions that Prince Henrick has asked you. We know who you are, we know where the girl is-more or less-but we don't know why the prince and I need to be here in the first place. Seems to me like you only called us to gloat.”

Mordal’s face spread into a sneer. “Oh, I want to more than just gloat. You see, young man, the answer to your question is quite simple... I hate, leaving a job unfinished. With superhuman-like strength, Mordal broke the chains binding him to the tower, and in one swift movement had reduced Varrp to a motionless pile on the floor.

“Commander!” Aron cried, but the commander did not respond. As Mordal, with powers restored, began to stalk towards the group, King Oren shoved the boys away from the bars, drawing his sword as he went. 

“Boys, I want you to run, and don't stop until you get to the carriage!”

“But father!”

“Now!”

“Come on your highness!” Aaron yelled as he grabbed Henrick by the arm, dragging him down the staircase and away from Mordal. As they ran they heard a gut-wrenching scream from the levels above... they knew it wasn't Mordal’s. 

The boys made it to the carriage and were soon speeding away from the palace towards Fretan, the reality of the situation creating a terrifying veil of silence that enveloped the boys. Henrick broke the silence, silent tears rolling down his face.

“They're dead. My father. The commander. They're both dead.”

“And it looks like a murderous tyrant is on the loose again.”

“My gods, what do we do?”

“We warn the other kingdoms, we prepare for war, and we figure out a way to stop him.” 

“But how do we do that!?”

Aron ran through the conversation in his head, focusing on the story about how Mordal had gotten rid of the princess. “Mordal said there is a potion that the witch used to enter another world. What if we made it?”

“Aron, that could take years! I know some alchemy, but a potion like that sounds really difficult!”

“Mordal said that it was two royal children that were blessed with magic, and you two were the only babies born! So unless you have been hiding some magical ability that's ready to be unleashed, it seems like this is our best shot!”

Henrick sniffed, and stared out the window at the pouring rain. His father's face, loving and caring stared at him in the glass, igniting a fire within him. With his sadness now came determination, hungry to stop the man that killed his father and kidnapped an innocent girl. “Ok. Let's do it.” 

As the boys began to plot their scheme, calm had fallen over Morena’s palace. A tall dark figure made his way through the entrance hall, blood dripping from his robes. Mordal made his way out to the palace steps smiling a sickening grin as magic spraked through his fingers. “Ah.” He sighed. “I love the rain.”