Tempest Borne



  Tempest Borne

  Prelude to Treborel

  Alaina Stanford

  By Alaina Stanford

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission of the author.

  Dedicated to my brother Scott. The future is upon us.

  The Beginning

  The walls of the palace shook with the fury of a raging storm. The unceasing torrent plagued King Rathmoores homeland for the last three weeks. The screaming winds mocked the mood of the entire continent. Only he was capable of maintaining high spirits on this day. High above the protective walls that surrounded his home, the King gazed out of his study window as his thoughts turned back to the war. The bloodshed was currently at a standstill due to the force of the hurricane.

  This alone was cause to rejoice, a temporary lull in the death and destruction he had known all his life. Yet his heart knew that when the storms subsided, it would begin again. Although his spirit was heavy with the loss of life the King could not seem to end, his hopeful mood remained undaunted. For on this day, it had been his great pleasure to announce to the people of Latria, the pending marriage of his youngest son, Mikel. Not only had the boy managed to fall in love with a Princess, he had chosen one who was heir to the throne of Treborel, the wilderness Kingdom across the vast Tempest Sea.

  The King rejoiced. This union would carry his gentle mannered son to another continent, far from the wretched legacy that his ancestors had created for him. The elderly King prayed he might achieve the same matrimonial escape for sweet little Gwenna, his youngest child. Although she soon would come of age, she was not interested in meeting suitors. Instead of marriage, her desire was to follow in the footsteps of her eldest brother, Oliver. A renowned leader of the military, he had served as the Commander of Latria’s land forces for the last ten years.

  Gwenna, on the other hand, was an innocent of 13 years, just a child. Knowing little of battles or complicated combat strategies, she wanted to command a land force that had been at war for nearly 200 years. The basis for Latrias original altercation with its neighboring nations had been forgotten long ago. The King's grandfather had spoken only once of the land dispute that triggered a small battle. From that moment on the intense level of the resulting destruction increased with each passing decade. Were it not for King Ember of Treborel, Latria would have become as desolate as the three remaining countries on the Western Continent.

  King Rathmoores great grandmother had been Treborelan. As a result, a special bond existed between the two countries. The King himself had married a Treborelan of Noble birth. Lady Katara Tauton was the ward of King Charel, King Ember’s father. Due to the union, King Ember had fulfilled his father’s wish and continued to allow Latria to purchase supplies on credit from his Kingdom.

  Now the Mountain Kings only child, Princess Sari had consented to marry Mikel. They were both very young. Mikel had only come of age this past spring, Sari was several years his junior. Yet in spite of their youth, they had each professed a deep love and had happily accepted the conditions of their marriage contract. King Rathmoore knew it had been difficult for Mikel to agree to leave his homeland to wed a woman who would one day rule over him. The young Prince was unconcerned with the strength that it would require to stand by and watch as Sari ruled. His only role in the government of his new home would be as an advisor. He needed no time for consideration; Mikel knew that Sari was entirely capable of ruling Treborel. He realized that she would need little help from him. Yet Sari wanted Mikel to have an active role in the governing of Treborel. The King sadly remembered the image of his son's dark brown eyes pleading with him to end the conflict before the wedding took place. Having lost one son to this insanity, King Rathmoore would have gladly granted this request, were it within his power.