Ayduin has seen it all, the carnage, the politics, betrayals and deaths. It was nothing new when the Piper horn sounded in the middle of the night. He was already awake; no matter how hard he tried he couldn't sleep. He would hear voices, numb, disturbing, and etched in your mind voices. It was a secret to all except his right hand Folred that he drank the waking potion.

He didn't dare sleep, what came after was haunting. Since he was brought on the field and witnessed a war he was like that. But he couldn't confide this to his father or his mother. He was the next king to be, he cannot possibly tell them he had some illness creeping inside him. And it was not like he could, he had father and mother just for a name. They were more King and Queen, their minds seldom had a thought about him or what his life was like.

The only person he talked to was Folred, three years younger to him blacksmith and weapon forger. Even though Ayduin never accepted, Folred was his unsaid family, his younger sibling.

Once in the meeting of Kings of five Lands, came a well-known hermit. Father ordered Ayduin to meet him. That Hermit had then told him that love will guide you where no one can.

A certain dislike initiated in his heart for that hermit and for the word Love. Anyone will hate love if they lived in his Land. Enm Lenora, land of Ice Elves. They were the definition of inner darkness, cold and forlorn. Love was not a defined theory in their land, they cared, yes but love, he had no clear notion of the feeling to see it in anyone.

As much it antagonised him on what the hermit said he was curious to know if he can fall in love, most importantly was it in the capability of his to feel that way. He knew he didn't love his Mother or father and they were his blood. If he cannot love them, he had no idea how he could love a stranger.

The sound of jingling of ornaments interrupted his thought process.

"Ayduin, King calls there has been an attack." Mikayla was here to inform something that Piper horn had already announced.

And that was as close to love as Elves get infatuation as we call it. Mikayla was sister to army general of Enm Lenora's massive, skilled and lethal army. She undoubtedly filled the definition of beautiful; she was slender and graceful with wild red hair and jade green eyes. A blush crept on her fair cheeks when she talked to him. She was infatuated with him.

That was acceptable, he was made to be infatuated with. He was an excellent warrior, he was known for his looks in all the five lands and he was the prince.

"I am the night guard Mikayla, I could see the war coming before you do," Ayduin replied with a smile he knows would cause Mikayla to fluster.

He had grown seeing elves around him master the art of controlling emotions and judging them with a mere look. And learning from the Royals he has seen them playing with emotions and he enjoyed as much as another person. He felt elated when a simple smile of his caused a havoc of emotions.

"Why are you still here then?" She asked edging a little closer.

Ayduin pointed his hands down the tallest turret he stood on, it was his guarding location and his solace point. He hated when people came up there but it was either Folred or Mikayla, no one else dared.

"I am waiting to make a dramatic appearance," Ayduin commented.

Mikayla gave him a puzzled look.

"Leave Mikayla, I know my job. Go tell my father I work on my own accord." He said rather harshly.

A sense of fear flashed in her eyes but she recomposed herself and threw back her red hair over her shoulder with arrogance. Mikayla didn't take rejection well but she was persistent enough to try at every chance she had.

Ayduin relaxed as soon as Mikayla left, he didn't like being around people. He had the surge of being dark and cold. He allowed the chilly breeze calm him, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Another minor battle was breaking and he had to be a part of it. The deaths or blood didn't bother him, what bothered him was the aftermath. The living left after the battle who mourned for them and he had the blood on his hands.

If only he could make the pain go away, but as Prince, he was entitled to be brutal and strategic. He was not made to dwell on pain or feel guilty for others; he was supposed to be this perfect specimen who put Kingdom before himself.

Ayduin couldn't feel that way; he was an outcast in his own category. He didn't want to be a Prince but there was no denying the fate.

His artful, sleek fingers ran through his burgundy shaded longish locks, venting out his frustration. The moon seemed to mock him as he gripped his sword tighter and comfortably flipped down the tallest tower of the palace.

As soon as he dropped down in front of a small army of dark druids, they staggered back scared. Everyone knew him, his reputation never betrayed him. Everyone knew about his murderous nature and predator like instincts, his unbeatable skills. If only anyone knew how he was cursed... They would realise that not only other kingdoms were scared of him even his own people isolated him.

No one knew about the curse, Folred said they felt a dark vibe around him. Elves had high senses; maybe they could sense that their Prince was destined to be great destructor of the Land he shall rule...

***

There is the first chapter for you all :)

Realllllly hope this was okay.... Thoughts about the Prince? Or anything else.