"Legacy of Arren: Prologue" by Laura Beth Levinson

            The pounding of the ram echoing through the cold stone walls of the castle created a rhythmic bass line; the soldier’s cries, the clanking of weapons the harmony which mixed with the melody of the high screams of the women and those dying.  It was the music of war. 

From within the cacophony of sound came the tell tale scream of a woman in labor.  The sound was largely ignored save for those in the actual birthing chamber.  A paltry gathering it was even though it included a king, a queen, and a wizard.  The ceiling light flickered, the king looked up frowning.  Apparently the traitors had reached the power generator.  After barking at the chamber maid to find candles in case the electricity went dead, the king turned his attention to the midwife as she worked on delivering the queen’s child.  Ignored at the moment was the wizard who sat at a nearby desk scribbling in a large tome with one hand as his other seemed to be tracing various symbols in the air.  Tension increased as the message, “they’ve breached the gate!” traveled up and down the ancient corriders. 

            They were running out of time.  The screaming and clashing grew steadily closer to the locked chamber where the queen panted and struggled to deliver the child within her.  The king shuddered as his beloved wife gave another heart wrenching cry, this one worse than the last.  Soon following it though was another cry, that of a newborn child, screaming in the midwife’s arms. 

            “It’s a girl milord.”  The woman spoke as she offered the child to its father.  Sadness spread through his features.  His own child...finally, but he knew that after this moment of holding her he would never hold her again.  Moving over to his tired queen, he knelt down to show her the child.

            “What should we name her my love?”  He noted that the baby had the same deep blue eyes as his wife, like tiny jewells.  His heart wrenched. 

            The queen peered up at her husband gently while placing her hand on his.  “Deirdre.”

            A soft cough could be heard as the wizened old wizard attempted to make himself known.  “I am sorry milord...but, it is time.”

            Twin tears ran down the faces of both the king and queen as both kissed the newborn’s head.  The king handed her over to the family wizard.  “Rubious, take my child and let there be hope for the future.”

            Despite his hard features the wizard seemed to be on the verge of tears himself as he took the child into his arms.  “I will take care of her milord.  The prophecy has been written and is even now starting to spread.  She will return to Arren.  Until then I will hide her in the Mystic Land, there’s an orphanage I found in the place they call England which will do nicely.”  He swept up his robes as he moved to the secret doorway in the back of the chamber.  A beating sound could now be heard on the door as the invaders tried to break in.  Rubious turned back to look at his leige and lady, “Good luck milord, milady.  I will see you in the next life,” before disappearing through the stone wall. 

            Bending over the king gave his wife a kiss, his tears dripping down onto her face and mingling with hers.  “I love you.”  The door crashed open revealing a group of soldiers in chain mail and swords.  The light bulb overhead flashed out as the men advanced on the couple.  The queen sat up as the king straightened his form, both their heads held high to meet their murderers.