A sequel to "Floating Stars"
Generations have come and gone in Natanstrelle. The people have been free to live without fear for almost a century, since the light magic's triumph over the darkness. However, hatred still lurks within the land; the Tro...
Loud rumbles of mighty thunder shook the atmosphere within Natanstrelle. The angry, dark clouds reflected the hatred that disturbed the streets below, which were peaceful mere moments ago.
All it took was one remark. One stupid remark from the tactless Head of the Biabus-Lus family.
"Word is spreading that the Trolls got Lorrus-Lius! Smashed his head in! Well, one less Draoic to worry about!"
That last word barely escaped his sneering mouth, before a fist crashed against his jaw. A fight broke out between the two heads of the infamous feuding families again. Lorrus Draoicis-Lus' brother soon pitched in and fought against Lucas Biabus-Lus' older nephews. Soon what was just a fist fight between two men became a full on brawl that took over the streets.
Doors slammed shut all around them as the townsfolk abiding in the Central City refused to get involved. There was little use in it. Once they got started there was not much that could be done to stop them.
Flashes of lightning lit up the sky, throwing bright light upon their raging faces. The crimson blood gushing from their noses and various cuts reflected the ominous red sky. The fighters barely noticed their surroundings; they were too focused on one thing, and one thing only - to cause as much harm upon their rivals as they possibly could.
It was only when the walls around them lit up with a bright violet light that their fighting came to a swift end. Their breath got caught in their throats, they turned around and dropped to their knees.
"Stars shine upon you, Your Majesty," they all chorused in their rehearsed way.
An expensively dressed man was standing before them all. His left hand was raised high above his head, holding onto his light orb. It cast out violet magic - magic that only blessed-royalty could wield.
"Gentlemen, disturbing the peaceful streets of Central City again, I see?" King Tellum spoke in a powerful voice of authority. They all knew better than to respond. They just bowed their heads and waited for their King to continue. "How long must Natanstrelle wait until this feud of yours will end? How long must my kingdom suffer your utter disregard? Go home, all of you!" The men slowly got to their feet, all whilst throwing looks of disdain at their enemies. "If I catch you brawling in these streets again, I may not be as lenient. Go home and behave yourselves!"
King Tellum watched them saunter awkwardly in their separate directions. The Draoicis-Lus headed towards their home village, Iarest, situated to the West. The Biabus-Lus headed North to Tuanalis. The King got back into his golden coach and was taken back to Astrid Palace, which stood mightily at the edge of the Eastern village, known as Eartem.
The streets within Central City were peaceful once again. Nothing but the pitter-patter of rain could be heard as it washed the droplets of crimson blood that stained the cobbled streets.
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Lorrus Draoicis-Lus quietly entered his home. He walked straight past the open letter that lay upon his kitchen table. A letter, which was decorated with the Emerald Army's stamp and was once sealed with the royal eight-pointed star. It contained words that he had already read over and over before he left to meet up with his brother. They tried their hardest to claw for his attention once more. But he didn't dare do it to himself again. His son - his brave first-born son - was gone, murdered brutally in battle, by the dreaded Trolls.
