It was the age of knights, princes, queens, and kings. It was the age of glory and discovery. It was the age where all was well and everyone lived in harmony and peace.
On the throne, there was the courageous King Arthur XXXIV. (He's not married yet, by the way.) (He's available and likes ladies with big-
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL FRANCIS!" I yelled, throwing the thick volume at a certain French head.
"Yes, mon cher?" Francis said calmly, stepping back to avoid the book.
"WHEN I ASKED YOU TO WRITE A BIOGRAPHY FOR ME I DIDN'T MEAN AN ADVERTISEMENT FOR A GIRLFRIEND!"
Francis shrugged. Picking up the bound book and tossing it at me. "I did put some other things in there, you know?" he smirked. "Take a look at the last page."
Taking a deep breath, I straightened my crown and smoothed down my large red cloak, flipping open the book again, turning to the last page of the script.
So, if you feel like it, feel free to sneak into his bedroom at night and-
I could feel my face turning bight red and skipped that paragraph.
He has some weird kinks as well. For example, if you tie him to the bedpost and then proceed to-
That was it. That was it!
If you're interested in marrying him, please contact Francis Bonnefoy at-
"Off with his head!" I commanded, fuming silently.
The guards standing beside my throne leaped down and took the frog by his hands and proceeded to drag him slowly out of the room. Strangely, however, Francis didn't protest. He just looked at me like he was holding in laughter.
My eyes widened slowly as I realized why he wanted to laugh.
"Oh my god," I whispered, staring straight into his eyes. "You didn't..."
"Oh yes I did."
"You DIDN'T!"
"I did."
I groaned slowly and slid down in my seat.
Why had I ever chosen Francis to be my adviser...?
"Let him go," I said, waving my guards out of the room. "We need to have a 'discussion'."
"What's the matter, Arthur?" Francis giggled. That bastard. "Have you finally realized what happens to the king's biography?"
"Please don't tell me you distributed it throughout The Kingdom already..." I groaned, burying my face in my hands with the urge to weep uncontrollably. At the moment, I could do nothing but feel sorry for my ego and my pride.
It was an unspoken rule in the country that everybody had to read the biography of the king to understand his life better and serve him better.
I'd loved this idea until...well...five minutes ago.
Francis leaped onto the throne that was far too wide for me to sit alone, putting his arm around me. If anyone else was here, I would have to have him killed. You don't just sit next to the ruler of The Kingdom on his throne and walk out safely, after all. But since it was Francis and he was my best friend/enemy and we were alone, I let him.
"Arthur," Francis started, his expression becoming serious. "You're a king, but you're also a human. You need someone to support you while I'm away."
"I don't need support while you're away!" I snapped, punching him lightly on the arm. If I'd used all of my strength, his arm would be broken. "I'm a better jouster and archer than you are, bloody frog! I can protect myself!"
Francis sighed, ruffling my hair.
"I know you're strong, mon cher. But I mean you need someone to talk to and relax with."
"..."
"You need someone to rant to after a battle. Someone who understands you troubles. Someone who can comfort you."
"...so that's why you want to find me a wife?" I asked, just a tiny bit moved by how he was concerned for me.
"Well, if you don't feel like that idea... then... friends with benefits?"
Forget what I said about feeling moved. I hated his guts.
"Or..." Francis stared at me with a smirk. "Are you not into women?"
"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"
Alfred sighed tiredly, plopping down onto his sofa and dropping his schoolbooks onto the floor of his apartment. There was only three days to go until the finals and he till needed to cram for five subjects...
"I'm back..." he mumbled into thin air, not expecting anyone to answer because he had the apartment to himself.
Staring down at his skinny jeans and his old band t-shirt, Alfred decided to hit the clubs for one more night before he started procrastinating.
Sauntering out the door, he let it slam behind him, feeling satisfied at the muffled thud the door made against the frame as it fell into place. Tossing his keys into his jean pockets, he boarded his motorcycle and sped off to pick up one of his friends.
Arriving at Antonio's front door, he knocked loudly and waited for his best friend to open it.
After a few strangled yelps and pained groans, the door creaked open. But the teen who opened it was certainly not Antonio.
"Gilbert!" Alfred greeted, smiling. "I'm here to pick up Antonio. Can you tell him that?"
"Sure," the albino said, turning around and shouting into the room. "Antonio! Alfred's here!"
A few moments later, a sweaty and flushed Antonio appeared at the front door with a bag slung over his shoulder.
Alfred raised an eyebrow, guessing at what Antonio had been doing before he knocked.
"Working out, Antonio?"
Antonio blushed, stepping outside and closing the door gently behind him.
"Y-yeah, you could say that," he said, running a hand through his brown curls. He seemed distracted and deep in thought. "So, where d'you want to go today?"
Antonio blinked slowly as he sat up, woken by a loud shout, presumably from Gilbert.
"Antonio! Alfred's here!"
Ah. Alfred. He probably wanted to drag Antonio to one of those clubs again, didn't he.
Groaning and yawning a bit as he pulled on some presentable clothes, Antonio thought back to the strange dream he was having...
Antonio was walking along the street, enjoying the music blasting from his headphones, nodding to the beat, his caramel tresses swinging slowly to the rhythm.
Suddenly, he noticed a faint pressure on his chest, stumbling back a bit, the headphones falling from his ears to rest snugly on his neck.
"Watch where you're going, bastard!" a voice said indignantly.
Lifting his head to look at the person who'd yelled at his so rudely, Antonio was met with the strangest sight he'd ever seen.
Standing in front of him was a stranger dressed like he'd come straight out of his history textbook on the medieval ages.
The stranger was wearing a pale yellow tunic, so elaborately embroidered and studded with jewels that the light reflecting off the piece of clothing hurt his eyes. A Gold rope hung from his waist as a makeshift belt, and the most ridiculous and flashy cross necklace hung from his pale neck. And...wait a second...were those leggings beneath the tunic?
Antonio's gaze widened comically at the stranger's questionable choice in shirt and pants, but when his gaze fell on the shoes, he couldn't resist letting out a small snort of laughter.
The stranger was sporting what looked like magenta slippers with fancy trusses on his two feet. Oh, that was just priceless!
"Hey! Quit laughing at me, bastard!" the stranger said, grabbing Antonio's shirt collar. "Tell me where to find The Emerald Edge!"
Antonio tilted his head, giving the stranger a confused look.
"I'm sorry... I don't know any place called The Emerald Edge," he answered hesitantly.
The stranger groaned, letting go of his shirt. "You idiot. The Emerald Edge is not just a place, it's-"
That was precisely when he woke up.
As he and Alfred sped along the streets of Brooklyn on Alfred's bike, Antonio could not help but regret not remembering the stranger's face, but only a strange curl of hair that stuck out of his head from an awkward angle.
Lovino half glided, half marched down the castle's grand hallway. He was on his way for his monthly report session with King Arthur, and he was not about to be late.
Smirking a bit as all the servants he passed on the way bowed to him respectfully, Lovino could not help letting his ego inflate a bit. After all, the position of The Kingdom's Grand Mage was one granted only to the most accomplished mage in the Kingdom, and Lovino had worked his way up the ranks assisted only by his atrocious amount of talent for magic.
Storming up the grand staircase to the throne room, he tapped his heavy gold staff which was taller than him on the floor, using his magic to summon a strong gust of wind, flinging the humungous doors open.
He blinked as he took in the strange sight of the king's advisor and the king seated on the throne together, but when he opened his eyes again, the advisor was standing beside the throne in his typical position.
Lovino shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He'd probably imagined that scene.
"You grand majesty the honored and brave protector of The Kingdom. O great and most gracious sir, I have come to-"
He was cut off by a wave of Arthur's hand.
"Lovino, please just cut the sanatic worshipping crap and greet me normally please."
Lovino felt the corners of his mouth tilt upwards. Alright then. If Arthur wanted him to speak like he did with his friends...
"Hey, Eyebrows Bastard and French Bastard, what were you doing before my wonderful self came in?"
Arthur's eye twitched a bit.
"I said to cut the satanic worshipping crap. Not to greet me with that absolutely atrocious nickname."
Luckily, Francis interjected before the two could start a full out fistfight in the middle of the throne room.
"Ahem, Your Majesty. Why don't we listen to the Grand Mage's status report?"
Arthur and Lovino had the grace to blush, knowing they'd embarrassed themselves.
Lovino's expression became serious, though, as he delivered his status report to the King.
"Your Majesty. I've found it," he said, unable to contain the tremble in his voice due to the excitement he was feeling.
Arthur leaned forward in his seat, looking into Lovino's eyes.
"Are you absolutely sure?"
Lovino smiled, the action almost sinister.
"Yes, I'm sure. It's disguised itself as a tavern, but I have tested out the properties and..." his eyes shone with amazement. "...the world I was transported to was unlike anything I'd seen before!"
Arthur stood up, almost flinging his cloak off his shoulders in his hurry. He mentioned for Lovino and Francis to follow him as he walked out the throne room.
Lovino watched as he tapped a guard on his shoulder and whispered something to him. Then he turned to the other two and looked them up and down.
"Prepare yourselves, my most loyal subjects, we are going on...a journey."
Well... There goes the first chapter of my failure of a fantasy/adventure fic. Can anyone guess who the mysterious stranger in Antonio's dream was~? I'm pretty sure I made it clear with the hair curl thing...
Anyways! Expect another update from me in two weeks or so~ (What? I'm a ridiculously slow writer.)
If anyone doesn't understand the basic plot yet, it will be explained in the next chapter, and I'm sorry if the timeline of the four parts confuses you...
Please review~ I want to know how I did on this chapter...
Thanks for reading!
~Lemon the Helldiver~