B.L.S are my initials. I'll just remain that, since it's going to be my author name when i eventually get this book published. I'm fourteen and I live in Orlando, Fl. I will be posting Zarcadia. Enjoy: (Yes Char, i'm breaking your direct orders)
Zathuran walked down the flame-lit hallway to his father’s room. He froze at the doorway as he reached for the latch. Pulling it out and lifting it was heavier than it had ever been. He walked in the room and sat on a chair across from his father’s bed. His father, Zyrean, struggled to a sitting position. His father reached for him, and his hand came to rest on Zathuran’s shoulder.
“Son, remember those stories I told you about Abel and Ablaze eight years ago, when you were just a decade old?”
“Yes.” Zathuran answered dutifully.
“I think you know they are true, and they are indeed. My son, my time is ending. Your time as king is just beginning.”
“I don’t think I can do it alone.” Zathuran replied evenly.
“No son, you are not ready yet. This scroll…” He coughed hard and continued: “Once you read it and do everything it requires, you will be ready. There is one who will gather a force and try to stop you from taking the throne when he finds out I am dead. You must defeat Ablaze; he is the one…who will oppose you.” Zyrean spoke the last sentence slowly with a gasp of breath.
No sooner than Zathuran had taken the scroll from his hand, the old man slumped over on him; lifeless.
“Father!” Zathuran cried out.
Zathuran fell unconscious with the weight upon his soul.