Writing Prompt

Gazing out across the hills, King Anduin imagines himself in a place where frightened boys cower, cut before their bloom. He is observing some soon-forgotten battle, in a time shackled to the past and yet somehow also distant, surreal. These boys flitter about along the blood-soaked landscape until a vicious collision clips their wings. He sees his son on these hills, motionless and peaceful. Yet ...

The world reeled into slow motion. Battle clattered about him; yet, as he watched the axe come down a mere four strides away, the sinking helplessness that grabbed hold of Abduin tuned his senses down to a hum. His heart beat had remained, and it violently pound in his ears. His son was struck. The crushing blow cracked open his skull, and his body collapsed under the force. There was nothing Abd...

The kingdom had fallen silent. Everyone knew that a war had been started, but they didn’t know everything. Of course gifts were sent to the king as everyone loved him. All he wanted was his son back, he would do anything, even sacrifice his whole kingdom just to have his son back. He was grieving but he had cut his sons life short, too short as he was supposed to take the throne and the kings wife...

Darkness slowly crept upon the day, and children and servants and Queen's and Knights and Squires went to bed. King Anduin however, stayed up, worried about his son.

Queen Varidy stayed up to. Her thin silks were wraped around her skinny frame, and they stayed under the covers, hoping, praying for their son to come back. Their prince, their life, to come back.

"Anduin," Queen Varidy finally whispe...