Thou hear not what thou may wish. But heed warning of foulest folk, the bastard child may bequeath the world around the noble blood. Discarded and disposed. Ignored. But a fool may yet be the wisest of men. There are rumors spread, like smoldering fire blaze into the homes and hobbles of common folk. Mysteries, legends swim about of warriors and nobilities, truth and justice. But they cannot see that thou art more pure than thee who cries for his noble feast. A feast made from the flesh of beggars and the blood of livestock in which the beggars gave.
But laugh he does, the common man. Knowing he is of the earth, he sings its righteous songs and echoes children's laughter. He is the man who bows his humble head and gives his meal to man and woman alike whether they be dressed in rags or riches. They say if thou should meet him, never more shall your eyes be dry. Always wet with tears of joy and emotion they shall remain. For he leaves as quickly as he goes. And if thou dost not cry when he leaves, thou must work for darker forces.
Despite that, he is but a bastard child. Dressed in the color of blood, if only to try and open your eyes.
-.-
This land is vast. Full of many people. People who hold power and authority and people who hide in the shadows for a morsel of bread dropped by heartless true fools.
In the land there are seven kingdoms. Each ruled by one being of great power. There is King Clark. He rules a kingdom with many a farms to feed his people but few cities to concoct trade amongst his people.
There is King John. He is a fair King. He is swift and just. He has a powerful military should someone dare to try and hurt his people.
There is Queen Shayera. She lives by the mountain where many of her people live with birds and are known as notorious hunters.
There is Queen Diana. Ruler of a feminist kingdom where men merely serve the women of the land. A land full of magic and warriors.
There is the Lord Bruce. He who rules the country where cities are everywhere and people believe they can do crime. The shadows drift here wishing to become king of thieves.
There is the mysterious magic man-made ruler J'onn. Leader of many of which who wish to learn of enlightenment. People here learn of freedom.
But the last kingdom was rather queer. Not one leader had stepped foot there in years. Good King Bartholomew gave up his crown. He gave it to the people. He taught many common folk and then gave up his crown. Such foolishness, many of them thought. Why would one throw away his crown? Perhaps he had no heir? His wife was most likely barren. At least that is what many had said. But unaware they did not see, a boy who came to each place, asking they visit once more.
"Dawn, Donnie. It seems it is time to go home," the boy said picking up the small children. They smiled and buried their heads into his foul smelling clothes, "Don't do that. You'll get sick."
"But you'll take care of us," Donnie said. He was a calm boy around many. He had waves of blond hair tussled lightly around his face and innocent blue eyes. But the elder knew he was a mischievous boy by nature. The spark of madness in his eyes was proof of that.
"I can only do so much. And what would 'nuncle say if you fell ill?" he asked. The boy's smile only grew.
"We don't have to tell him!"
"Why would we get sick?" asked Dawn. She looked as innocent as her brother with her own blonde hair and blue eyes. But similarly a mischievous glint in her eyes daring madness to come dance with her.
"Because I am dirty and have slept with the rats," he answered, "For they enjoy my company."
"But you don't get sick!"
"Because I am a bastard child Dawn," he said simply. He was. His "father" was a married man who had sired two daughters both of whom had died. Frustrated with the children his wife gave him he had his way with his mother who ended up giving birth to him. His father tried to deny it but once his mother had taken him before King Bartholomew there was no redemption. He was a bastard child before. But now he was a bastard child related to the queen. He knew it foolhardy to run but he couldn't help himself. He ran as fast as a spring hare only to be caught in the arms of the King himself. He took him back to the main room where he was told his father had been put to death for raping his mother. He was the only living child of his so he was to become Duke of West.
People scorned him because of his mother. After all he was still a bastard child. That much was clear. He still didn't understand the looks they gave him though. Filled with love and compassion, giving their trust to him to travel with his two cousins who alone stood in his way to being an heir and reclaiming the monarchy as a monarchy. He didn't want the power though. He merely wanted peace.
For some time now, tensions between the lands had grown. Each losing sight of what each was willing to give to assist one another. And war seemed imminent.
So… continue?
