The moon shone high in the sky. Its ethereal light unable to penetrate the gathering of clouds below. A violent storm raged forcing those under it to endure its temper. Thunder rumbled, lightning flashed and raindrops fell like arrows in an unending calamity.

  A woman’s wail echoed in the night breaking through the sounds created by nature’s wrath. Lightning illuminated a vast and majestic city before all returned to shadow. The woman’s cry returned along with the rumble of thunder.

  Inside a rich and lavish room a woman of divine beauty laid on a bed. Her long luscious golden hair fanned around her body. She cried in agony, tears falling from her face.

  Midwives moved around the room doing what they could to help the suffering lady. She was in the midst of childbirth and no matter how distressed they became, they could offer no more aid.

  The pain of giving life was nothing however compared to the silent rage of a brother holding his sister’s hand in place of another.

  One who should’ve arrived an hour ago.

  As the woman’s agony worsened so did the violence of the storm. Grief filled the hearts of those in the room.

  The once white sheets of the bed were now stained crimson red. No birth, no matter how hard should have this much blood.

  One thing was certain, no matter the outcome by dawn only one would draw breath.

  The woman looked at her brother with pleading eyes. Hoping he would help lighten the burden placed on her by the man she called husband.

  “Leon, is my husband coming?” she asked weakly. “Tell me he is on his way.”

  “Of course he is Lyadrin!” Leonard smiled trying to remain strong for her. “Why would the king not come to see his queen for this momentous occasion.”

  His green eyes turned to one of the guards at the door, asking the obvious question. The guard shrugged discreetly as to not alert the queen.

  It would seem no one knew what was taking their king so long.

  Leon sighed and passed a hand through his sandy blonde hair. Annoyed and agitated he did his best to hide it from his sister.

  “I believe you big brother,” she uttered without a shred of doubt.

  That answer tore at Leon’s heart, her complete faith in him and his blatant lie caused cracks to appear in his resolve.

  “Did you think about names?” He asked changing the subject.

  “Of course I have,” she said insulted. “No child of mine will be named by someone else, only I get the right to choose.”

  Lyadrin had become pale as she weakened, her strength was leaving her. The light of her soul was fading.

  Time was against him and Leon would not allow his sister to die before giving birth to his future niece or nephew.

  He knelt by her side and held his hands above her abdomen. A golden glow spread from his hands and into her body.

  The light of healing, powered by his own grace, maintained her presence in the holy realm.

  At this point it did nothing but stall the inevitable.

  Keeping Lyadrin’s soul from the icy grip of oblivion took all of Leon’s attention.

  He sent a quick glare at one of the guards, issuing a silent command. The guard understood the order and left to fulfill it.

  In the uncomfortable silence of the room Leon began to pray.

  “O eternal flame, source of all light, help protect my sister through this trial. North Wind, harbinger of the great winter veil, let her child live, postpone the fall of the final curtain. Reapers, scattered fragments of the one true death, wanderers of the world and guardians of souls, I beg you, do not come for my sister this night. Father of the world, creator of all, the one true god, this servant humbly implores you for mercy.”

  He stopped when he heard the sound of someone approaching the room. With the blessing of the lord the king had finally arrived.

  Only the guard entered, no sign of anyone behind him, Leon stared at him intently, hopeful for good news.

  The guard shook his head, which could only mean one thing; the king had yet to show not due to an emergency but because, he wasn't coming.

  A feeling of disappointment filled his heart, followed by the shaking of his soul seething with rage. Was the king ashamed of his wife? Or was he so heartless that he didn't care what happened to her?

  Leon would find out later, now his little sister needed him more than ever.

  He swore silently that the king would answer for it later.

  Lyadrin let out cries of pain. Taking a deep breath she pushed with all her might, even as the aura of light representing her soul began to dim.

  The cry of a newborn alerted them to the success of the birth.

  A maid approached with the little one wrapped in a soft white blanket.

  Lyadrin held her avidly with all the tenderness a mother can muster.

  “A daughter,” he said happily. “What do you want to call her?”

  Looking at his sister with her daughter in her arms filled him with joy. He couldn't help notice that she now looked like a pale moon.

  “Rosalia,” she murmured with tears falling from her eyes.

  “A fine name,” said Leon quietly.

  “Leon swear to me that now and forevermore. You will protect my daughter with all your might, with all your strength. Swear it!” said Lyadrin gathering all her strength to say these words.

  Before he could respond her light vanished, her soul leaving with it.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Leon watched as Lyadrin's body became still, her breathing stopped and her once brilliant sapphire-blue eyes were extinguished, never to shine again.

  A flash of lightning blinded everyone for a moment, followed by a violent rumble of thunder, echoing through the palace, so loud it shook the earth. Then nothing, the storm dissipated, leaving behind only a small drizzle of rain.

  A great pain began in his chest, his heart constricting, a great weakness overcame him as he crumbled to his knees.

  “I promise,” he whispered so low it was barely a whisper.

  The door opened silently, guards all bearing the coat of arms of their family entered. In between them stood a young girl with soft, wavy brown hair and blue eyes.

  “Uncle Leon, is the baby here yet?” she asked excitedly.

  “Ashley… Yes come and meet your little sister.”

  Leon rose and grabbed Rosalia and lowered himself so Ashley could see clearly.

  “What’s her name?” she asked in awe.

  “Rosalia.”

  “Wow, my sister’s name is beautiful,” she said in awe.

  Leon smiled, watching Ashley observe her half-sister intently as if memorizing every detail, she could.

  Ashley was the bastard daughter of the king with another woman before he married and became king.

  Lyadrin, bless her soul, being the kindhearted woman she was adopted Ashley as her own daughter.

  His smile faltered as she asked the one question he dreaded; one he was not sure he would have the strength to answer.

  “Is mama sleeping?” she asked suddenly.

  His men perked up at that all looked at him pleading, they knew the truth but still wanted someone to deny it in some vain hope it was a nightmare.

  “I am sorry little dove. Your mother is resting in the eternal sleep now.”

  While Ashley did not fully understand the concept of death, she knew enough to know her mother was gone, never to return. She looked back at Rosalia in silence, her young mind full of innocent purity trying to comprehend.

  The rest of his men surrounded the bed, grief in their hearts they began mourning in silence.

  Leon looked at little Rosalia, who was squirming gently in her blanket, trying to touch everything she could. The little girl, not even an hour old let out little noises trying to get her mother’s attention, to no avail.

  Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, but he refused to cry in the presence of his men and nieces.

  The little angel was as fiery as her mother, she would be a beautiful princess.

  He'd cry later, but right now grieving could wait, someone had to answer for this injustice. That someone would be their king. How dare he abandon his wife when she needed him.

  Tenderly, Leon rocked Rosalia gently, humming a tune that quickly lulled her to sleep. He handed her to the closest guard, letting his hand linger on her little body, the last remnant of his sister.

  “Protect her with your lives. Don't let anyone but us near her until I get back. And if the king's men come looking for her, you know what to do.”

  His warriors unsheathed their swords in unison, letting the man holding Rosalia retreat behind them with Ashley.

  Confident that his nieces would be safe he decided to confront his brother-in-law. He left the room without once turning back, his eyes narrowed in fury.

  (Break)

  He walked through the vast hallways of the palace undisturbed. The moon peering through the windows his only source of light. He passed vast columns of pure marble and their large shadows casted by the moonlight.

  Each step resonated in the empty halls, strangely void of life, all the better for his boiling rage to simmer and cool itself before he exploded at someone who did not deserve it.

  A flash of lightning revealed his shadow, alone in a white field. The silence buzzed in his ears, echoing a song of pain heard by none but creatures that escape our comprehension.

  His footsteps halted the buzzing for a single moment but every step he took became louder and louder. The flash of lighting revealed that his shadow had grown.

  The longer he walked, the less his rage subsided. His normally calm exterior began to break, releasing a small portion of the emotion beneath his mask. Small glimpses of rage bubbled to the surface.

  That kingly prick hadn't bothered to come to his own daughter's birth, hadn't shown up in his wife's time of need. But worst of all, he had ignored her last request, he had dared to defile what was supposed to be the greatest moment of their lives.

  He could have saved her, the king’s powers of healing was greater than his own. And now she was gone, his little sister had paid for her husband's indifference with her life.

  Anger and resentment burned inside him; a rage akin to a blazing sun burning a crimson red could not measure the unrestrained fury that lurked beneath his skin.

  A final flash of lightning, his shadow had grown to resemble a wolf-like creature, monstrous in form but noble in posture.

  Restrictions would have to be applied lest he assault the king before a word was uttered.

  Distant bells rang out, taunting him for his failure, a reminder of his sister's death. The work of the servants undoubtedly. The news of the queen's death had no doubt reached every corner of the palace.

  After what felt like an eternity of walking he finally reached the royal chambers. He entered without a knock nor did he announce himself as proper decorum dictated.

  The King's back was to him busy looking out a window. His large white wings folded upon his back and his hair braided perfectly. It was as if he was preparing for a feast and had no notion of the tragedy that had befallen them.

  Even if he wanted to strike him and he would be justified, he couldn't. His loyalty wouldn't allow him to commit such an act of treason. So, he reduced himself to simply talking, ignoring his inner beast's desire to unleash his fury.

  “Your Majesty,” he said with contempt.

  “I see my wife is dead,” began the king not bothering to acknowledge him. “Has she at least given me a son?”

  “A daughter. Princess Rosalia heiress of Heaven.”

  “What a pity,” was his curt reply, he let out a sigh but continued to look out of the window.

  Restraint be damned, how dare he.

  “That’s it? that’s all you have to say about this. Our queen, your wife, my sister! Is dead and you simply shrug it off!” shouted Leon his voice echoing.

  “Is this how you address your King? Remember your place High General,” spat the king.

  “I'm your brother-in-law, in this context your position means nothing Nathaniel,” he replied with loathing.

  He turned, his neatly trimmed bearded face stared at him sternly. His glowing white eyes glaring intently into Leon’s.

  “You dare utter my name with such ease as if I was a mere angel. You mustn't forget who sits on the throne Leonard,” said Nathaniel with a trace of anger.

  “And you mustn't forget who put you on that throne,” said Leon clenching his fists. “Remember you are king by marriage nothing more.”

  The king of angels tried to intimidate him with his presence and greater height, but in vain, Leon would not be deterred.

  The king growled in warning.

  “I'd be careful if I were you Leonard, you're not irreplaceable, you should go and look after your niece now.”

  Leon narrowed his eyes but remained silent, it was tempting very much so.

  But in the end he wasn’t worth the trouble. Besides his family had bled too much to protect the throne. An unprovoked attack would only spit in the oath his forefathers swore.

  Reluctantly he backed down and began to walk away.

  Nathaniel not liking that he left without being dismissed decided to give him some parting words.

  “You know I would simply have to remarry to get an heir. As for my... daughter I’m sure I won’t have trouble finding her a husband when she’s older. She will easily spread her legs just like her mother after all.”

  Leon froze.

  Loyalty be damned he wasn’t letting that pass, his ancestors would agree with his next action.

  Later when asked about this incident he would of course say that he acted in a moment of intense grief.

  He turned his head around revealing a visage of wrath, his eyes had become golden, his nails turned to claws, his teeth sharpened. The beast had been released.

  Leon turned to the king and lunged at him with all the malice he was capable of mustering.

  Surprised, Nathaniel could do nothing but stare in awe at the man most renowned for his calm nature lunge at him. A clawed hand raised and ready to strike.

  A rumble of thunder followed by a bright flash of lightning enveloped the room, only the shadows of the king and the now airborne Leon were seen.

  Or would have been seen but no witness was present to behold the brawl that would be whispered about for years to come.

  (Break)

  The servants despaired at the state of the room when it was later discovered, and all wondered how it occurred.

  Furniture was thrown around, chairs were shattered, the table destroyed, claw marks and cracks all over the walls and floor.

  The bed had exploded, feathers from the pillows scattered everywhere.

  A window broken, glass shards laying on the floor.

  The curtains shredded, one even turned into a noose.

  A few fist sized holes in different places, the door was even ripped from its hinges and split in half.

  Only two know of the events that transpired that night and not one would ever speak of it again.

  None of the king’s men tried to approach the princess that night or the days that followed.

  Nathaniel and Leon were never seen in the same room since ‘the incident’ as many would begin call it.

  Leaving many to wonder how this would effect the realm and all its inhabitants.