Prologue

I am just going to leave at this, this idea started as a random prompt during Social Studies, then it was like lightning struck my head. The American Revolution could tie into ROTG. Pitch is British and Jack lived in one of the 13 colonies! In Burgess! I'm telling you, this story will bloom into a hit it will help you for the American Revolution Topic in a FUN way. I hope you enjoy this.

No flames please!

Disclaimer~

Victory cheers erupted within the colonies and Britian as the Proclomation AKA, the treaty of France had been agreed and signed, officialy ending the French and Indian War, involving the French & Native Americans teaming up to fight against Britian and the 13 Colonies. Now, Great Britian had taken away majority of their enemies' land. The Colinists, on the other hand, were overfilled with joy.

After the long war, after all the blood, sweat, and tears lost, they would finally finish the deal between them and King George to spread west past the Appalachien Mountains. Just then, during the celebration, a British mail carrier suddenly appeared on the stage with a group of fellow redcoats lined up behind with guns at their side. Each one's faces were expressionless and firm, never glancing to the colonists cheering their honors to their fellow battle comrads. The Delivery Horseman held up a hand which soonly silenced the colonists. The man cleared his throat and pulled out a scroll from his satchual. Every leaned in, eyeing the scroll with full attention.

Scrolls were important, for each symboled a letter from the king.

"Ahem. Fellow Colonists of Burgess," he read in a thick, slick accent, "I understand that you have yearned for quite a long desprate time of the war to signify the deal. The deal we have nagotiated in allowing you to spread further west..." He paused, giving the people a look. A look that quickened the paces of many hearts. "Unfourtonatly, my mind has been set to a change of terms... To prevent any further conflict with the Indians and to assure your safety, I FORBID you to travel any further than the Appalachien Mountains."

The utter silence then was cut by an arising sounds of complaints and confusion, but mostly rage.

"This is outrageous! King George made a promise!-"

"This is unfair!"

"King George mustn't do such!-"

"I disagree!-"

As fists shook angrily in the air, the Mail Carrier interrupted. "AND, you ALL will be paying taxes due to war debt." This infuriated the Colonists even more. War debt? Taxes? But did they even have a say in such? When was this decided?! The Colonists surged forward in fury to the stage, in attempt to grab at the Mail Carrier, who tugged the hoarse back. The British soldiers took stand, aiming their guns at the Colonists with threatening glares. This only calmed the anger down a bit. A fellow man stepped from the crowd and shot daggers up at the British man. "King George cannot do this. Itvis 'Taxation without Representation.' This will and has been committed as 'Tyranny.' We had no say in this law so without our consent we will not allow this to pass-"

"It has already been passed, if you have any disagreement you can discuss that to the king," the Mail Carrier said with a low growl. He cleared his throat once more and looked straight atvthe crowds. "Understand? If you rebel, there will be consequences to your actions. Cheereo." With that, he left without another word as the soldiers held back the angered people of Burgess.

In the basement of Britian Military Headquarters, a man sat in silence with a feather ink pen in hand, using it to write perfect swirls of cursive letters on a fine peice of yellow tinted, thick paper that held dark blotches here and there. His sleek black hair stuck upwards in spikes and his mouth gaping gold tinted eyes never left the paper as he wrote:

In print,

I, Kozmotis Pitchiner, write today with many thoughts and troubles over shadowing my mind; my dearest daughter Saraphina had just past away with a fatal illness, and not one second does guilt, shame, or sorrow pass me by as I grieve for the loss of my only golden sparrow. Now as I sit here in silence, pressure of loneliness surpresses me every second.

Not only that I now mourn for my delicate sparrow, but I aslo feel an odd sensation and sympathy for the Colonists that stand miles across the sea from us. Ever since King George enforced taxes upon them, massacars and rebellion has lead between Britian and the Colonists. In my oppinion, I must agree with the people on one thing: King George had no right nor consent to tax the poor lads with taxes without their blessing.

My fear is that with all this rebellion and conflict between Britian and Her Colonies, this will anger not only the king, but the Colonies, and will sum up to only one solution...

War.

Kozmotis closed his eyes, sucking in a breath. He can just imagine it. if Britian and the Colonists go to war, it will be a blood bash. At least ten times worse than the French and Indian war. He is not sure who would win, but it really did not matter. Destiny has its own plans. Fate is no different.

"Kozmotis," a sudden voice spoke from behind.

Kozmotis quickly placed the letter in his coat pocket before whoever stood behind could see and turned to face a man with handsome features and bulky complexion. "Anthony. How may I be of service?" Kozmotis asked calmly.

Anthony's hazel orbs studied Kozmotis for a second then smiled softly. "Um, King George suggests that you meet him this instance," he exclaimed. Kozmotis ran a stressed hand through his hair and nodded. "Yes- yes, I will be there right away."

Anthony nodded and walked away.

Kozmotis stood and straightened his coat properly, fixing the cuffs and collar. Anthony was a long time friend, he and Kozmotis knew each other for seven years as best companions, even brothers. But the two shared different oppinions. Unlike Kozmotis, who believed that the Colonists had every right to be infuriated, Anthony believed that the Colonists needed a kick in the rear end. But Anthony had no clue about Kozmotis' oppinions, in fact, Kozmotis has nver brought up the subject. He knew Anthony would rebel and try to the ends of God's earth to prove himself correct. Kozmotis was not about to take a risk.

And besides, it was not like that sort of conflict would appear any time soon...

Right?

Kozmotis walk deligently and straight, heel to heel down to where a ma, wearing clothes that symboled royalty, sat on a throne. At least five feet away, Kozmotis knelt down on one knee, bowing before King George. "You have summoned me, my king?"

King George pursed his lips. "Yes. I have. Those stubborn Colonists have began boycotting, harrassing- not to mention KILLING- my men, and have burned all documents and stamps and other paper they could get their filthy hands on. Debt is stacking up more than their puny minds know," he explained, clearly unamused.

Kozmotis' eyes faltered a bit. "I am sorry to hear, my king," he murmered.

King George looked studied his nails bordely.

"Yes... which is why I am setting up a new law. 'The Quartering Law.' You and the other troops may welcome yourselves within any of the colonists houses as long as you have a warrent-"

Kozmotis furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Wait, this sounded WAY beyond measures. This will not fix any conflict, this will only worsen it!

"The Colonists will tend your every needs. If they wish to act like wild dogs, then so be it. They will be trained like wild dogs," the king spat.

"But my majesty, do you not think that this is uneccessary?" Kozmotis questioned. King George glared at him. Kozmotis backed up his words just as quick. "What I mean is... I am on your side, but may I not take part in this new law? I would rather not be such a disgrace to the people. They are angered enough."

The king stared at him plainly for a few seconds before laughing out loudly and mockingly as if Kozmotis had just made a joke. "Oh, Kozmotis, there is no desicion in this. It is an opposition," King George chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. Pitch furrowed his eyebrows. "And why is it neccessary, my king?" he asked, trying to hide the hint of annoyance.

"Well, I will tell you," King George said, drumming his fingers, "... It only takes one snowflake to start an avelanche- meaning it only takes one mindless Colonist to start a protest that might soon lead to war... Understand, Kozmotis?"

Pitch sighed. He didnt want war... like the Colonies, he had no say in this. "Yes, my majesty," he said. King George then snapped his fingers. "Then get to it."

Kozmotis turned his heel and walked away. He could not help but feel his stomach churn nside him oddly as he thought how he was going to offer himself a house that had no properties to claim his leadership?

Okay, short sweet and simple kay? Review and update will be up soon