The Madrol Empire
The
three year old Marcus sat on the floor playing with a wooden horse, he looked
out the window and watched the snow fall. It has been snowing non-stop for five
years, it has nearly reached the window of the castle. In some parts of the
kingdom, the snow reaches two hundred feet into the air, a layered mixture of
ice and snow. Marcus Madrol II is enamored by the snow, he loves to watch is,
and, on warmer days, he loves to play in it. His grandfather is emperor of the
country of Drahil, making Marcus second in line to assume the throne. The
country is an alliance of fifteen smaller countries, each conquered by the
Madrol dynasty. Many people died for this empire and many more will. Little
Marcus has no idea how important he is, but some people do.
Marcus
plays with the horse, making it run and jump. He could entertain himself for
hours.
The door to his room is open and a light is
slowly making it’s way down the hall. The person holding the light reaches the
door way and stops to aim his pistol. The laser pointer reaches little Marcus’s
head but the gun jams. A nearby slave runs to the door and tackles the
intruder. He wrestles him to the ground and stabs him repeatedly with his glass
knife, killing the assassin. The slave runs over to Marcus and cradles him.
Little Marcus had no idea his life was in danger.
“My boy, we must leave…you are not
safe here.” The slave says as he picks up Marcus.
In another part of the castle
Marcus’s father is killed by a sniper who is was able to see into the man’s
chamber window through a tower window on the other side of the courtyard. Two assassins
were sent to eliminate the heirs to the throne, one was successful, the other
failed and died.
That night the slave and Marcus
left the castle by the steel dragon, a robotic transport built for two or fewer
occupants.
Seventeen
years later the twenty year old Marcus Madrol wakes in a grass and stone hut in
the outskirts of the continent of Raif. The slave who rescued Marcus seventeen
years ago has raised him with the help of other villagers. The climate is much different here, Marcus
doesn’t see snow anymore and he doesn’t have to deal with winter at the castle.
In Raif the climate is always warm and there is never snow. It barely rains
here.
Marcus
learned all the cultures of the villagers, how to hunt local game, how to
scavenge for berries and vegetables. At night he even learned how to smoke the
greeneries and drink the spiritual tea of the elders. He would consume the
awful tasting liquid and have visions of the life that once was. He would have
flashbacks to when he was three and living in the castle playing with his toy
horse. He didn’t remember much of the life back then, but the tea helped.
His
leadership abilities were evident at the tender age of ten. He would plan hunts
and find the best spots at the right time of year for berries and other
edibles. He was a very quick learner and incredibly strong. The villagers knew
he was different, not just his skin tone, but his way of thinking and his
innate abilities. The slave who rescued him, Abe (short for Abebe) told of his
royal blood. He told how he saved him from death. Some villagers were weary of
the new comer but they soon accepted him as one of their own. Marcus was now a native;
he will bring the villagers much prosperity.
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