The Few

Prologue- Long Live the King

   Prologue- all rights reserved
Long Live the King

       The sun held high in the cold cobalt blue sky. Only a single cloud, sluggish in its attempt to block the raging sun eyes from humanity. Sadly the cloud would never meet the sun, as it blazed to hot and that cloud evaporated failing in its only mission. Everything was as normal and quiet as the day before that and the day before that. Except for the agonizing scream, that would soon be described as a newborn belching, it's the first scream of life. While others thought it was a sign of all-out war coming to them. Both of these would not come to be, at least not yet at least. The hellish scream come from the sliver of land that separated the woods and the vast Kingdom of Mason since the kingdom was birthed from blood, copper, and a man that spoke with a silver tung.

      There lay the King of Beasts, Alexander Ashworth, on a patch of Orange Lilines seething in pain. A small group of onlookers had gathered at the edge of the stone path. Not one person even left the path to help, the king that struggled to breathe and not one dared to move close to aid him or see if he had simply broken something of importance and take him to the kingdoms healer. They stood frozen in fear each one looked to another to step forward and be brave enough to even touch Alexander's shoulder. To comfort him, however, none would, in one moment the group valued their lives.

"AHhh AHHhh! AHHHh!" Alexander bellowed out in an unexpected pain that sored threw this body, it hurt to even move his head. The group backed up falling over each other as they went. Like carefully placed domino's. From their previous encounters with Alexander, he turned to the person that angered him and mauled the nearest thing with or without a heartbeat it simply did not matter to him. They had already lost dozens of good men, women, and even children because of, what the king called when he first met Alexander.

"His God-given gift. That makes it easier for us to serve the powerful creator that sent him to all of us. We should all rejoice that we were sent this wonderful gift from God. Why would got send us him, if it was not to help us? Just think  of all the great things that has happened when I said he could stay here."

Or at least that what the messager of the king rang out when Alexander first showed up with a man and women from the frost. The place where unspoken magic and danger resided and strengthened with every passing Full Moon. But he did not transform, he still lie there staring at the cobalt blue sky watching the cloud move around slowly wheeling his body to not burn as hot as it did. The questions of of why he did not turn would soon follow and if he truly was the bloody thirty, hairy beast he was told to be.

The Earth became damp from him yelling in pain, sweat coming off his face like a small river. Saliva formed in his mouth, like he was a K-9 with rabies. His body shook like an animal living its last moments in pain and no one to help it, but watch as it slowly is taken by the natural cold swift hand of death.

 "Everyone," a powerful voice interrupted the show that played before them free of charge," go do your duty- whatever that maybe, now be gone." As the man came into view. He wore a large wool cap on the top of his head to hide where this chestnut brown hair slowly faded into nothingness , rear jewels adored his long silver clothing that could never be cleaned properly , it showed off his rather large  stomach from eating one to many cakes from his royal  baker. 

He'd would often show it off like it was a prize of some sort. If the two men stood side by side you would think one was a gluttonous fool and the other a Noble King and you would be wrong no matter which one you picked.

" Alexander, what's the matter?" He asked. As he saw his proctor lie on the damp dirty Earth yelling something no one should hear especially from a king, beside in the rage of battle or with his o so loving wife. "It is happening." He growled to the man. The man immediately dropped next to Alexander and felt his head. It burned hot, like a burning torch that had gone too low to the holders hand. This made the man pull his hand back and shake it off trying to cool it before putting his fat hand on Alexander's chest. Feeling the slow rise and fall of Alexander's chest, reassuring him that Alexander is not dead. At least not at the moment.