CHAPTER ONE

He paced up and down the wide hall leading to the first entrance of Pavinne Castle. Up and down. Over and over again. Nerves made his palms sweaty and his hands shake. The rhythmic tapping of his leather boots seemed almost therapeutic. So much so that he was put into a trance. For a while, it was all he could hear. The smell of freshly baked bread from the castle kitchen wafted down the hall and caressed his senses - granting him brief moments of serenity.

He looked up at the grand portraits. Pictures of his family painted over half a decade ago hung ominously on the walls. He pondered about them each in turn; the paintings were void of life, yet they were expected to make up for his loss. Each person in the picture was no longer present, but their portraits hung in their place as a sick punishment, one deemed too absolute and highly unnecessary.

He shook his head, hoping to cast away daunting recollections of those dark times. He rubbed his palms on his breeches and remembered why he was pacing and nervous.

Prince Caspar Pavinne of Verinia, brother of His Royal Highness, King Chester Pavinne of Verinia. His brother's official title pronounced an air of nobility and regality - to him, he was solely Caspar: the annoying little imbecile he was forced to grow up with.

Caspar was a mischievous prankster. He was devious and competitive, especially with his brothers. He was not too happy when Chester was given the throne, despite the constant reminders of how the Pavinne kingdom worked and many kingdoms before it. Chester couldn't tell whether his brother's feelings came from spite or jealousy or something else.

One thing he knew was that Caspar had changed. Chester was not sure what had changed him but he had become more serious, more focused on the kingdom than even Chester was. His attitude towards royal duties may have had one believe that Chester couldn't handle his role as King. Although surprised and proud, Chester was determined to prove people wrong.

Caspar's visit was to be a pivotal event for his brother; of all things, Chester just wanted to see him. He wanted to salvage any relationship he could with his family - even though sometimes he would deny it.

Chester looked to the tall oak grandfather clock pushed up against the high wall - it read 5 o'clock: the pre-arranged time for the meeting. As the thought left him, he heard the bells chime throughout the hallway. Walking briskly towards the entrance, he stood tall and proud as the guards pulled the magnificent doors open and presented his brother, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and a mischievous smirk adorning his young face.

"Caspar! How excellent to see you," Chester greeted his brother warmly with a grin and a swift embrace.

"Your guards don't look as delighted to see me as you do," he glanced backwards. The doormen remained still and emotionless, but their eyes glinted in reaction.

"They do their job well enough to keep it," Chester smiled. "I've been looking forward to your visit, brother."

"That is a lie if ever I saw one. The names I recall being given to me from childhood seem to say otherwise."

Chester was glad to know that Caspar hasn't changed too much to be inrecognisable. Five years hadn't aged him one bit and he still retained his humorous and arrogant demeanour, despite his stern countenance of concentration.

"Since Hariette, Gordon and my own mother refuse to see me unless mandatory, I willingly assumed you would follow suit," Chester told his brother truthfully. Caspar answered by placing a strong hand on his shoulder and gripping it in reassurance. He looked at his older brother with hard stern eyes, making sure he was not hasty to forget what he was going to say.

"I could never reject you, Chester. As long as your blood runs through my veins, we are one. Why, casting you away defeats the purpose of family," Caspar said. Chester couldn't kick the despair he had been harbouring for half a decade. Time had passed but the pain he had pushed away would often resurface, more frequently that he would have preferred. Words although a kind gesture, were not going to be enough.

Living with the company of dozens of castle workers proved that Chester truly despised being alone. No matter how much he tried to beg, plead and even force his family to forgive him, they seem to be convinced that selfish reasons were what drove them away.

Since then, Chester had learned to live independently - to not trust anybody because trust meant vulnerability and encouraged betrayal. Why give room for such hurt, when one can keep themselves safe from the world? He would rather be alive and alone than be dead because he put his own life in somebody else's hands. It was a harsh truth, but a truth nonetheless.

Apart from this, Chester knew he could trust Caspar: his brother and his friend. Not enough to risk his life, but enough to know that he would not break a vow. He knew that Caspar trusted him too - that he believed that he was not driven by hatred for his enemies and a bloodthirsty desire for power. His view, though, was opposed to the rest of his family.

"Come brother. I have something to show you," Chester placed his hands upon Caspar's shoulders and he did so in return. Closing his eyes and bowing his head, Chester whispered a spell: "Permoveo portinimus."

A turbulent churning stirred in the depths of his stomach, as if he was moving at a speed faster than light. His organs were unstable inside his body. Inexperienced casters wouldn't have been able to control their gag reflex in such a tumultuous situation but Chester had done the spell many a time. He kept his stomach down and soon, the churning ceased. He opened his eyes, releasing Caspar, and turning around.

The study was usually immaculate, but the unusual was presented before them this time. A chair was pulled away from its original place behind the large oak desk and sat before the wall, creased and wrinkled leather bound around the head and seat. The map of Verinia and Colegrave had many pin points on it and the corner was slowly curling itself back up the wall. The desk however was the worst circumstance: it stood under mountains of parchment, scrolls and loose sheets of paper.

Chester walked behind the desk, Caspar following and staring in awe at the amount of drawings and articles that sit in complete disorganisation on surfaces of tables and on the floor.

"I have finally discovered it, Caspar. The problem we have had for years - the problem people have died for has been solved!" Cheater shuffled frantically through the papers looking for the briefing. That very piece of paper was the key to his success and misplacing such an important document in a fleeting moment was not an option. He pulled from underneath a pile of maps, a slightly wrinkled, dog-eared piece of paper, barely acknowledging the tattered papers that tumbled over the edge of the desk and onto the floor in its wake.

"Here is the plan, brother. Come to the map."

He leads the way to the western wall of the office as Caspar follows again, scanning over the briefing silently. When he finished he lifted his head and his lips pulled up into a small smirk. "This may actually be successful, Chester. What shall you do if it works? What will happen?"

"I will make sure that my country never has to suffer again, Caspar," said Chester. "I will give Verinia power beyond their belief!"

"Well show me then, brother. I am quite eager to see how your plan is to unfold." Caspar joined the King at the map on the wall while he found the starting point. It took a lot of control to stop him from chuckling with excitement.

He explained the plan in thorough detail, from leaving through the furthest corner of the kingdom and taking to the woods to enter Colegrave; how they must disguise themselves until they reach the castle walls; how the necklace was locked in safekeeping in the basement beneath tallest tower of the castle and how they would enter through the stables at the back of the castle. How they would use some noble men as a distraction while they snuck to the basement, stole the necklace and left without them even knowing; how they would kill anybody that got in their way.

"It seems a well processed plan," Caspar said after a while. He had kept quiet throughout the whole explanation but looked interested and showed it by raising his sharp eyebrows at some suggestions proposed. "But what if it just isn't a sufficient effort?"

"I know that I have tried similar plans previously but my advisors and I have thought about it this time. Before we ran into Colegrave waving our swords around and we hardly stood a chance, but now we have strategy, we have brains and we have the advantage of armed combat!"

Colegrave had had the necklace for hundreds of years, with brief periods of time when Verinia had reclaimed its power. But their downfall was that the Gravers relied on the magic the necklace gave them. Chester's father did not realise this until it was too late, so he died for lack of knowledge. Chester, however, was determined to not make that same mistake.

"I trust you, Chester, but we can live without the necklace. Verinia is doing just fine without it. There isn't starvation and there isn't rebellion amongst the people. The kingdom adores you! If this plan fails, you will certainly lose the trust of your people!"

He understood what Caspar was saying, but was what he was doing not for their benefit? Weren't all of his hard work and years of training endured so that he was able to do what was best for his kingdom? Verinia's status was not supposed to be lower than that of Colegrave and it was up to him to change that. The people would understand that. They had to understand.

"Chester, I know that I cannot persuade you to think over this more-" Caspar began but his elder brother cut him off sharply.

"I have done more than enough thinking! If you do not accept it, then you may as well leave," Chester told Caspar and with sighs and hesitation, he reluctantly made his way to the door.

"Come with me, Caspar. You can be a part of it."

"You know I cannot come with you, Chester," he began. He turned around and shook his head slowly in what Chester strongly willed to be indecision, "There is way too much at stake."

"So I am not worth it, is that what you are saying? Can you not take a chance on me this one time?" the King questioned him, not anger but pain attacked his heart.

"I'm sorry, Chester. Not this time," he sighed and turned around once again, "Permoveo Portinimus."

With that, he was gone.

If his plans were to go wrong, that would have been the last time that he saw him. His dear younger brother.

If his plans were to go the way he wanted them, the occasion would have been the first of many encounters with his family again.

"Henway!" he called out to his help.

Henway knocked and entered the study. He bowed before addressing the King, "Yes, Your Highness."

"Please, prepare my armour and weapons and call Sir Nicholas to the training grounds. Gather the Brothers," He listed to Henway, "I have one last thing to tell them."