Book 1: uprising

Welcome to the beginning, the starting line, the uprising. yeh so basically this is the first book we be working on an umm yeah so umm... i kinda sound like phone guy right? heh. (that was a fnaf reference). but the story of this book is simple. obviously I'm not going to spoil it for you, that would be weird ai? but i could give you the prologue if you want... ! DISCLAIMER ! the prologue takes place around 400 years before the events of chapter 1.

# PROLOGUE SNIPPET

Prologue

Frances Mirenzi walked down the corridor of the dark cave, his torch held high, and the flame flickering against the walls. Aldam Buda walked in front, sword drawn. If they were attacked in this small area, they most likely would fall, but Aldam had training. He wasn’t the best, but Frances wasn’t even close to his skill. Frances squinted from the sunlight as the duo exited the cave. On the other side, it was the land they were waiting for. The land they were promised. The groups of workers exited the cave and got to work instantly. The village was going to be built, along with Frances’ own castle. As the Baron of…whatever he was going to name this place, he was going to need a great castle, with servants and the like.

                                                                                               \*

Frances sat on his new throne, contemplating. Maybe it was a bit over the top, but it made him feel powerful. Aldam was out training more soldiers and had requested for Frances to join the training. He wasn’t keen on it, but if he was attacked, how would he defend himself against assassin if he couldn’t fight? Not that anyone would want to kill him, but…maybe? Frances got off his throne and strutted down the hall. He met Aldam and the trainees outside, picked up a sword, and began training.

                                                                                               \*

Frances stabbed the man through his gut. It was halfway through the war on Melgrin, and he wasn’t exactly a fighter, but he decided he would help his country. His son, Frances the 2nd, stayed back in the castle with his wife, Elinor. Frances stabbed another soldier in the head, then leapt over a blade and stabbed another in the back. Frances smiled, turned, and decapitated another. All around him, men died. Frances winced as another of his soldiers fell, but he kept going. He stabbed another one of the soldiers and dropped his body to the ground. Blood stained the battlefield, but soldiers covered them. Frances charged forwards and killed another, but then he was stabbed in the side. Frances yelled, and twisted around, to face General Larsy. Larsy stabbed Frances in the stomach, and pain welled up in his chest. Frances collapsed backwards, bleeding and weak. Aldam leapt in front of Frances, trying to save him, but he was cut to pieces. Frances mourned the death of his friend, but there would be time for that later, he was, he reminded himself, still in a battlefield after all. Frances looked up and saw the wicked general running away after his failed attempt to kill him.

“Larsy!” He roared, and charged at the general, bloodlust swimming through him.                                                                                                                               He needed to get out of this war. He thought of his wife and son, but he kept on charging like a bull towards the springy, pathetic figure in the distance that he knew to be Larsy.

                                                                                       \*

Frances awoke suddenly. He shouted for the man that killed his best of friends, but then realising he was in a hospital bed, took in his surroundings. He was in the castle hospital wing, now he vaguely remembered passing out while giving chase to Aldams’ murderer. He looked down at where the general had stabbed his side. It was covered in bandages. A nurse walked over to him and asked if he needed anything.                                                      “Yes.” he said, “My wife and son.”

                                                                                                                              \*

 As the baron sat waiting, he started contemplating over what had happened. Then he remembered he had also been stabbed in the stomach. He unbuttoned his hospital gown and looked at his heavily bandaged wound. He swore loudly, he had jerked his body left to see how much it hurt. The pain spread through his whole body. Suddenly his wife entered the room. She gasped when she saw him and ran over. His son, a toddler at one and a half years old, toddled hesitantly into the room, gazing in wonder at his surroundings, clearly oblivious to how much pain his father was in. But Frances needed to know, he couldn’t stand waiting. So, the question that had been bubbling inside of him burst through his mouth.                                “Is it alright, did we win?”   But the look on his wife’s face made the answer clear. “They said we can say alive, for now”.                           Rage boiled within him and from then on, he swore, he would never forgive the murderer of his greatest friend, that he would never forgive the evil traitor. He swore he would find and destroy Larsy Basilli.