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Kingdom Story (by WNxFireWraith)
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5
Chapter 6
/ Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10


The dark clouds gathered in the sky, drenching the
land in darkness. The wind picked up, each gust
bringing down a new shower of red and orange leaves
from the trees. He was right. He was always right.
He had always been right for as long as he could
remember. Predicting the weather was one of his more
useless skills, but it seemed to come in handy every
now and then. In his league, there were none better
than he. Everyone knew that, or did at one time at
least. Now, in his old age, he was like a shadow
among the world, like a child’s toy that was never
given away, but rather forgotten about.

The old man pulled away from the window. The storm
clouds stretched out beyond his own small house, to
the castle in the distance, and all the way over the
hills in the background. But while the storm clouds
covered the earth, a different sort of cloud was
fogging his thoughts. Something puzzled him. It was
something dark and receded in his mind; an innate
instinct that he couldn’t uncover. Once again, the
man pulled his thoughts into himself, combing his
mind, as treasure seekers comb for gold, trying to
uncover whatever it was he was looking for. After an
hour or so of searching in his head, he returned back
to himself once again, empty handed just like the
dozens of times before that he had tried.

“Oh well, it is no use trying anymore,” he thought to

Just then came a knock at the door. A young man,
about the age of 30 came in through the door into the
old man’s study. It was the old man’s apprentice,
Bogo Rath. He beckoned Bogo forward to his desk.

“I am here to deliver an envelope for you Master. I
am terribly sorry to disturb you, but there was a very
distinctive looking envelope addressed to you, and I
thought it important that you see to it at once.”
Bogo laid the large yellow envelope upon the table and
stepped back a few paces.

Bogo Rath was certainty correct about the envelope
being important. It was an unusually large and thick
envelope. But most intriguing about it was not its
size, but what it had upon the front and to whom it
was addressed to. On the front of the envelope was a
large round stamp. The stamp had a small map of the
world and two distinct letters over the globe: WN. He
recognized it immediately to be the stamp of royalty,
the Royal Seal. The old man put his thick glasses on
his nose and studied the envelope. It was addressed
to Leppard the Wizard.

“It has been a long time since anyone called me
this,” he said, half to himself and half to Bogo.
His mind wandered to distant places long since past.

He studied the envelope a little longer, then slowly
and methodically opened it. Bogo, who was filled with
wonder at the thought of what the envelope might
contain, watched patiently by the door.

Leppard took a letter from the envelope and laid it
on the table. He sat there for a few moments, unsure
what to do. He almost felt like putting it back in
the envelope and mailing it back. Or, even more
appealing, the thought of setting a fire to it and
watching it smolder in the fireplace. It was not that
he was frightened, it was just that he knew that a
letter of this sort could mean nothing but bad news.

Slowly, he unfolded the letter, with an impatient
Bogo at his side whom was peering over his shoulder.
He scanned the letter quickly, his eyes taking in
everything it had to say at least five times the rate
that a normal person reads. He quickly refolded the
letter, not allowing Bogo Rath to finish reading it.

He stood up abruptly and slowly paced back and forth
across the floor.

“Is something wrong Master?” asked Bogo.
Leppard stopped pacing suddenly and moved to the
window, seemingly unaware of Bogo’s question. He
stared out into the distance, his eyes and mind alike
penetrating something that wasn’t there.

“So, that is what I have been looking for,” he said
to himself. He was deep in concentration, allowing
the pieces of his thought to slowly connect themselves
together, like a puzzle being put together.

This had to be what was bothering him. It all came
so clearly now.

He hastened to his bedroom chambers and instructed
Bogo to follow. He went to his dresser and started to
pack up a big, old bag. He packed only the things
that he must have, like food, water, and clothing. He
threw on a large travel cloak and his old, bent
wizard’s hat. Then he picked up his big wooden staff,
which had a big red gem on one end. Leppard had
always told Bogo that the staff was for walking
purposes only, but Bogo knew better than that.

“Are we going somewhere Master?” Bogo asked.

“Yes,” replied the wizard gravely. “Hurry and pack
your bags, we haven’t much time.”

In less than 10 minutes, Leppard and his apprentice
Bogo Rath, were trudging through the pounding rain, up
the muddy path, and towards the castle.


Bogo bent down against the constant onslaught of
rain. Ahead, he was barely able to see the figure of
Leppard striding up ahead of him. The water seemed to
repel off of the great Wizard, almost as if by magic.
Suddenly Bogo caught himself in that thought and told
himself that it probably was magic. It was a shame
Leppard had never bothered to teach him that spell.

The great castle was somewhere out in this rain, yet
neither one of the companions could see it. The storm
took a turn for the worse and started pounding down
hail. It was also getting dark and Leppard called to
Bogo that they would find shelter and wait out the
rain and sleet that night. They soon found a small
cave, or rather, a small portion of a wall that had
been hollowed out from the wind. It did, however,
provide enough protection from the wind and water that
the two companions could sleep.

Bogo fell asleep almost instantly, for the long
journey had tired him out. But Leppard was not tired.
His mind was restless, and he decided to take a short
walk, for the rain had ceased a few hours before.

The cool night was crisp with the freshness of the
rain. He felt a chill in the air, but he was unable
to determine whether it came from the rain shower or
from the coming of winter. He glanced around at the
familiar terrain. He had once hunted here, back when
he was a little boy.

He was raised alone by his father, who was a smith of
the royal court. He admired his dad greatly, admired
the way his father worked. Leppard wanted to become a
smith also, just like his dad. But his dad knew that
the boy could become more then a blacksmith, for he
knew that Leppard was no ordinary boy, but a boy born
with an innate magic.

The magic had long been foretold in his family
history. It was said that the magic would stay inert
and hidden as long as it was not needed. It would be
passed from one generation to the next, only to appear
when it was needed.
His father knew of this prophecy, and knew that his
own son was the one that the magic was for.

It appeared in the boy at a very early age. At
first, when Leppard was six, he wished to pick his
father some flowers, yet it was the dead of winter and
none were to be found. Yet sure enough, young Leppard
returned with a big fist full of bright yellow
flowers. His father ran to the door and saw the
entire yard blooming with yellow wild flowers as if it
were already April.

He was apprenticed by the court Wizard, but soon
surpassed his old mentor in skill and ability. As his
age flourished, so did his magic. Each passing year,
he would become more powerful. His father encouraged
him with his learning to cope with the powerful magic.
Unfortunately, things were to change forever.

His father had been in a forging accident and passed
away when Leppard was just 18 years old. Leppard was
crushed deeply, his emotions streaming into his magic.
His magic grew with such fury that he could no longer
control it. It lashed out, hurting not only Leppard,
but people around him too. He fled to the country
side, too scared to make his way back to the caste,
worried that his magic would flare up again
unexpectedly as the sad thoughts washed upon him

And now, here he was, in the middle of a forest,
journeying to the very place he dreaded the most. He
knew nothing of what his family history foretold about
the magic coming back to he who would need to use it.
It was only in this letter that it was explained to
him, and this was the one reason that he now went
forth to the castle.

(by WNxFireWraith)

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5
Chapter 6
/ Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10

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