Status: Progressing.
Eleanor In Ruins
Prologue
In Eldonia when life is created there is already a plan for it. A destiny is carved deep into the souls of all Eldonians. Despite whatever choices that creature makes in its existence, its destiny is always the same, pre-written and never changing.
All destinies, no matter how influential or small, are kept secret and sacred in the blooming petals of fate. When its destiny runs out, the creature's flower on the tree of life no longer blooms. It withers and dies, as does its host.
In this world of magical creatures with pre-written destinies and tragic heroes lived a king.
This king was much admired by his people and celebrated by his peers as much for his kindness as for his level headed logic. Though the kingdom prospered under his rule, the king's destiny was pre-written like the rest.
Though he didn't know the full manuscript of his destiny, the king loathed its existence entirely.
The prophecy, that petal made him as weak and powerless over his life as any of the people living under him.
If the formal dinner had lasted perhaps a half an hour longer or his sorcerer hadn't whispered those exact words into his ear, he might not have acted. He might have stayed in Eldonia to rule peacefully until his death, but that was not his destiny.
The topic of discussion at dinner had been the king's future wife, a woman that he had neither spoken to nor heard of until that night.
All of the pretty charcoal-outlined eyes attached to powdered female faces in the room swam with happy tears at the thoughts of new little royal babies.
The king's temper rose.
"Don't be cross, my king, you knew this day would come," his sorcerer whispered in his ear, crossing the line that sparked the king's true destiny into motion.
Half way through the first course, the king abruptly left the table and was never seen or heard from again.
It was said that he slipped through a portal in time and space to a place where he could live out his true destiny in peace.
Having lost its ruler, Eldonia fell into ruins. The throne went to the biggest, scariest threat and the world moved on, darkness ruled over all.
Among those truly loyal to the late king, there were whispers, stories that became legends of a more tangible hope than the king's triumphant return. They told of an heir to the throne, an illegitimate child born to the king and his mistress in a foreign land.
They waited silently, clinging to the hope that his child would one day return to the land of its father. Though the child was not of Eldonia and had no destiny written there, the people waited, their only hope resting in that the child would one day cross the portal through time and space.
All destinies, no matter how influential or small, are kept secret and sacred in the blooming petals of fate. When its destiny runs out, the creature's flower on the tree of life no longer blooms. It withers and dies, as does its host.
In this world of magical creatures with pre-written destinies and tragic heroes lived a king.
This king was much admired by his people and celebrated by his peers as much for his kindness as for his level headed logic. Though the kingdom prospered under his rule, the king's destiny was pre-written like the rest.
Though he didn't know the full manuscript of his destiny, the king loathed its existence entirely.
The prophecy, that petal made him as weak and powerless over his life as any of the people living under him.
If the formal dinner had lasted perhaps a half an hour longer or his sorcerer hadn't whispered those exact words into his ear, he might not have acted. He might have stayed in Eldonia to rule peacefully until his death, but that was not his destiny.
The topic of discussion at dinner had been the king's future wife, a woman that he had neither spoken to nor heard of until that night.
All of the pretty charcoal-outlined eyes attached to powdered female faces in the room swam with happy tears at the thoughts of new little royal babies.
The king's temper rose.
"Don't be cross, my king, you knew this day would come," his sorcerer whispered in his ear, crossing the line that sparked the king's true destiny into motion.
Half way through the first course, the king abruptly left the table and was never seen or heard from again.
It was said that he slipped through a portal in time and space to a place where he could live out his true destiny in peace.
Having lost its ruler, Eldonia fell into ruins. The throne went to the biggest, scariest threat and the world moved on, darkness ruled over all.
Among those truly loyal to the late king, there were whispers, stories that became legends of a more tangible hope than the king's triumphant return. They told of an heir to the throne, an illegitimate child born to the king and his mistress in a foreign land.
They waited silently, clinging to the hope that his child would one day return to the land of its father. Though the child was not of Eldonia and had no destiny written there, the people waited, their only hope resting in that the child would one day cross the portal through time and space.
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(C) Please don't steal! <3