The wooded glade was thick with the hazy light of late afternoon, dust motes floating idly through the slanting rays of sun, and the heady scent of wild flowers filling the warm air. A young girl and boy walked side by side over tree roots, and stopping now and again to pick a flower or to point out a nest of chicks high in an oak tree. They were obviously related, sharing the same unruly black hair, warm brown eyes and finely chiselled features that marked them out from ordinary folk of the area; indeed, the brother and sister were no other than Prince Van Slazer de Fanel and Princess Celia Dukas de Fanel, of the Royal family of Fanelia.

For both practical and safety reasons, they did not wear attire that bespoke their titles; Van was dressed in a rough sleeveless red shirt, off-white trousers and leather boots, and would not look out of place amongst any other village boys. His sister wore a plain blue shift dress and a soft white cloak that billowed around her ankles as she walked.

However, hanging from Van's belt was a long, majestic sword- none other than the royal sword of Fanelia in it's decorated sheath, the insignia of the royal family emblazoned proudly on the hilt. It may have looked slightly incongruous swinging against the spindly leg of a sixteen year old boy, but this was no ordinary youth; in his hands lay the fate of the country, for when his father King Goau died, he would take his place as rightful heir to the throne of Fanelia.

He was a serious, quiet young man, dedicated to his studies and resigned to the heavy burden of responsibility that rested on his shoulders; moreover, he was a renowned swordsman and guymelef pilot, respected and loved by the people, who had no qualms about their future king. Yet now, as he laughed and teased his sister in the hazy wood, he seemed no more an heir to the throne than a normal teenage boy.

"Van! Stop it! Give that back at once, horrid boy!" Celia cried as her brother pinned her arms behind her back and deftly unclasped the locket that hung around her neck.

He ran a little way ahead, and looked at the silver trinket that lay in his gloved hands. To his surprise, he discovered that the locket opened, and inside, found a lock of golden hair behind a little glass frame.

"Who gave you this?" he called to his sister, snapping it shut with a sneaky smile. "Was it Allan Schezarrrrrr?"

His sister blushed furiously, and snatched the necklace from where it dangled on the end of one careless finger.

"That's none of your business." she said pertly, and tossed her long black hair. "Why should you care if he gave me that or not?"

"Ah, so it was Knight Schezar. Well, my little sister, I hope you know what you are getting yourself into, because you aren't the first girl he's dazzled with his looks." Van said warningly.

"Don't patronise me, brother. You are only older than me by 10 minutes, you know." she said, her eyes narrowing. "And don't think I'm a naive idiot either. I know full well about Allan's history, and I don't care what people say about him. He's a perfectly behaved gentleman, and he would never do anything that would endanger my reputation, or yours for that matter. Besides, he's just an admirer, for heaven's sakes. I'm allowed one, am I not?"

"You have about twenty-five, Celia."

"So do you!"

"Do not!"

"Yes you do! I saw you gazing into Lady Celesta's eyes last week...and then there's that village girl with the blond hair...and the-"

"Alright, alright! But the point is, I'm only looking out for you. It's my duty as your brother to do that, and I'm sorry if I seem over protective, but you can hardly blame me." Van said quietly.

Celia's eyes saddened, and the golden light of the afternoon seemed to dim around them

"You mustn't blame yourself for Folken's disappearance." she said in a low voice, her head bent. "It's not your fault he decided to run away."

The woods thinned and the pair began to walk uphill to the pathway that led to the palace.

"I can't help myself. I think about it every day. Why didn't I listen to him when he tried to talk to me? Why didn't I see the signs?" he said bitterly. "If only I'd gone hunting with him that night, I could have stopped him from disappearing..."

Celia said nothing, but sighed. Since the her eldest brother, Prince Folken Lakur de Fanel had disappeared during a hunt, just over a year ago, Van had become more serious, almost receding into himself at times. It had first been assumed he had been kidnapped or murdered, but as the months passed, rumours of his whereabouts came to the royal family's ears, and odd cryptic notes signed with the insignia of Fanelia that mysteriously appeared from time to time gave proof that he was alive.

Sometimes, Van thought angrily, it might have been better if Folken had died, for what he had done was truly abominable- betraying his country, escaping from his duties as rightful heir to the throne, and worst of all, disgracing the royal name of Fanel. The thing that hurt Celia more deeply than her elder brother's running away was the effect it had on their beloved mother, Queen Varie, who had shared a strong bond with her first born, who's gentle, loving temperament was mirrored in Folken's own...

Celia did not see the guards standing to attention as she passed into the courtyard of the palace, or the tutor at her elbow, wringing his hands and nagging her for missing lessons. She only saw the laughing russet-brown eyes of her eldest brother as he taught her how to use a bow and arrow, or his blue-green hair flapping in his eyes as they flew home-made kites on the windy hills outside Fanelia...He had always seemed so distant yet awe-inspiring, a tall, perfect figure, so wise, always laughing and charming those around him...walking by the lake with his mother.

Celia found Queen Varie in her chamber, at her desk, holding a thin piece of paper in front of her in the half-light of the room.

"Mother." she said, placing a hand on her shoulder and gazing at the paper. It was the last note they had received that gave a clue to Folken's whereabouts, entitled simply 'Mother'.

Varie folded the paper quickly, and smiled up at her only daughter. It pained Celia to see how pale and gaunt her mother had become this past year, her eyes clouding more frequently, and even her long green-black hair losing it's former shine.

"I found you some orchids in the woods." she said, handing the delicate flowers to her mother, who took them with an exclamation of delight.

"Thankyou Celia. They're beautiful." she said, smiling, placing them in a pen pot at the end of the desk. "Where is Van?"

"I don't know, probably eating. Why?"

"Balgus wanted to see him about something. Really, I wonder if that man is over-taxing Van sometimes, all they do is swordfight, and spar in their guymelefs. He looks quite exhausted."

"Van wouldn't do it if he didn't feel he had to. But he's dedicated, mother. He wants to be as good as Balgus some day, and he can't achieve that without training all the time." Celia explained.

Varie smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. She was afraid that she would lose her other son if the pressure of being heir to the throne became too much, as it had supposedly with Folken.

"Please don't worry about Van. I will look after him, and make sure he doesn't wear himself out, I promise." said Celia, leaving her mother with a smile.