1 Prologue

Black flags with the royal coat of arms of the kingdom of Xaevural flew overhead as a mighty army of soldiers clad in black armour marched in perfect unison. Massive siege engines lumbered alongside them, being pushed and dragged by hundreds of dedicated engineering crews. On the flanks of the massive host of infantry rode the pride of the Xaevural Kingdom, their esteemed drake riders. Clad in full plate armour and riding massive flightless drakes that were twice as big as a horse and covered in scales strong enough to deflect most weapons, these highly trained shock cavalry are able to completely decimate enemy formations before ripping apart their scattered forces with teeth, blade, and claw. Further down the flanks of the army, the light cavalry could be seen riding down enemy scouts on black steeds.

Zion, prince of Xaevural, son of the mighty King Carodoc and first in line to the throne, took in a deep breath as he looked around. "A mighty army as befits a mighty nation," he thought as he smiled, watching from his elevated vantage point. A general walked up to him.

"My liege," he said with a bow. "The rebel army attempts to retreat, what are your orders?"

"Slaughter them all. Anyone that dares to threaten me must be put to the sword," the words flowed out of his lips before he even knew what was going on. "Wait a minute, I didn't mean to say that…, what is going on?" he thought to himself. The general nodded.

"And what of the prince?"

"Did you not hear me the first time? I said, slaughter them all…" again the words flowed out of Zion's mouth. All of a sudden, Zion found himself looking down on a middle-aged man with a scar running down his neck, -whom he had thought to have been him moments ago. The face of the man and the general were both blurred and he could not make out any other distinguishing features. The general once again nodded and walked off to relay the instructions. The man with the scar smiled, it was a sinister smile.

"Today is the day of your reckoning, Prince Zion," he said through his smile as he absent-mindedly rubbed the scar on his neck.

The scene changed, there was fire everywhere. Thatch huts were burning to the ground. Woman and children alike running from monstrous drakes while the men were being beaten into the ground by soldiers clad in black. There was blood everywhere. A woman screamed as her husband was snapped right in half before her eyes by a greyish black drake as the rider laughed maniacally. Yet even in her terror, she tried to protect her young son with her body. The drake turned to her, snarling and drooling. A kick from the rider signals the beast to attack and without hesitation, it leapt upon the woman and her child. On the other side of the battlefield, swords clashed with sickles and hoes as the men struggled in vain to defend their families. It was a massacre. Zion stood amongst the wreckage, walking through the destruction, his eyes widening in fear. "Such brutality… such carnage…," the words filled his mind yet as he walked through the destruction, he saw the terrified people escaping into a hidden tunnel as several better armed and better equipped men stood guard, killing the soldiers in black and buying time for the others to escape. The faces of the men were all blurred except for one. It was a face that Zion instantly recognized, a young face not even 20 years of age. Yet he was fighting with all his might, defending those that were fleeing. It was like looking in a mirror. The scene was about to change once again when Zion began to feel as though the whole world was shaking and he opened his eyes.

"My prince, it is time to get up".

The first thing he saw was his personal valet, Ralf's grinning face. Ralf was about the same age as Zion was, around 16 years of age. Yet despite being a valet, he has formed a close bond with Zion and the two can be considered close friends. "Ugh… Get your face away from mine," Zion said as he playfully pushed Ralf away from him and sat up on his large, 4-posted canopy bed.

"Did you have to wake me up so early?" Zion asked with a yawn. "I was in the middle of a dream."

"It's already late morning, my prince. Besides, you have a pretty busy schedule today," Ralf said as he helped the prince on to his feet and helped him out of his sleepwear. "What were you dreaming of, if you don't mind me asking, my prince?"

Zion paused slightly when Ralf asked about his dream. What had he dreamt of? Now that he had awaken, it felt as though the dream was naught but a distant memory that gets fuzzier as time passes. "I-I don't remember…," he replied.

"Well, if you can't remember it, then it's probably not that important," Ralf said with a smile as he collected Zion's sleepwear. "Head on into the bath first, my prince. I'll take your clothes to the laundry and wait for you outside." Zion nodded as Ralf left his room. He entered the bathroom and tested the temperature of his bath. It was slightly on the hotter side, which Zion enjoyed. Zion's lips curled into a slight smile as he lowered himself into the bath, letting out a deep breath as he felt his body sink into the warm water. "As expected of Ralf, he knows me well," he mused.