Author Notes: Hey guys, I'm sorry I kept changing the first chapter. When I uploaded the first draft I was very unhappy about it and set out to redo the entire chapter. I am much more proud of this final draft and I feel better about uploading this one. I hope you all enjoy the story. Chapter 2 coming soon!

K'ronta sat upright in bed unable to sleep. This would be the third night his anxious thoughts kept him awake. He tried to control himself with the common Tamaranian soothing rituals but to no avail. Whatever was bothering him was deeply rooted in his mind. He couldn't shake it loose with poems and songs.

His mother passed nearly a month ago but the painful loss felt fresh in his heart. He always knew one day her carnal body would give way to the natural process of life. Still, it didn't soften the wound her death created. She was his only family. He never learned who his father was. He never asked and she never told him. He didn't feel the need to ask about someone who wasn't present. All he needed was his mother. Now she was gone.

His mother acted as the royal scribe to the Grand Ruler. She was a brilliant woman, well educated in foreign affairs and communication. She spoke many languages, practiced multiple professional customs, and her beauty helped her appear approachable. She was the perfect candidate. When she had her son she trained him in her footsteps so that one day he would take up her baton and serve the royal family in her absence.

K'ronta gripped his blanket tightly in a fist as he remembered her kindred spirit. She was a patient teacher, so kind and forgiving. She was the perfect example for a mother and a royal servant.

He allowed bitter tears to escape his weary eyes. He watched them fall on his blanket. He wondered if he could drown in his sadness.

A scream tore him from his mourning.

What was that? He thought. His attention shifted to what lied beyond his room.

Carefully he slipped out of bed and crept towards the door. He heard another scream.

K'ronta threw the door open and sprinted down the hallway trying to locate the trouble.

Another scream pierced the castle.

His racing footsteps echoed through the stone interior as he approached were he source.

He paused in an open doorway to see a maid scrambling after something on the floor. She loudly wept as she fumbled over broken ceramic pieces.

"Miss, what has happened?" K'ronta demanded.

The maid jerked herself up to face him. Messy tears skewed her facial features; her cheeks puffy and red, her mouth twisted in an unattractive frown, and her hair sticking to her face.

"Our Grand Ruler," she tried her best to speak through the sobbing waves, "I'm afraid he has passed."

K'ronta felt her words hit him in the chest. He caught his breath.

"Where is he?" He shouted.

The maid pointed a shaky finger towards a door inside the room. "He's in his bed." She cried.

He wasted no time. He bolted around the maid to where she had pointed at; the Grand Ruler's sleeping quarters.

The door obeyed K'ronta's furious push as he raced to their Grand Ruler's bedside, fearing the worst.

"Your majesty, pardon my intrusion but please arise!" K'ronta yelled. He knew if the Grand Ruler did wake up he would certainly be punished for disturbing him so violently. At that moment K'ronta didn't care. He searched for any signed of life; a twitch of a nostril, an eye fluttering, anything.

Nothing.

K'ronta ran back to the maid, who was now balancing herself upright against the wall, and commanded her, "Ring the bell!"

The Tamaranians draped the ceremonial charbots over their windows and doorways. Soon every home was covered in black furry cloaks to express their respects towards the royal family. No one dared to make any noise in fear of disturbing the sullen ambiance. The Tamaranians remained in their homes reciting the truflubon, the formal poem for death. The news was delivered from the main balcony a few hours ago; their Grand Ruler has died.

K'ronta uncomfortably shifted in his seat as he waited for the royal council to begin their interrogation. When the guards met with K'ronta in their Grand Ruler's sleeping quarters they immediately suspected him of treason. He was taken under arrest and thrown into a dark room, the room he is impatiently waiting in now. He was the only thing occupying the space other than a table, a few chairs, and a lit oil lamp. Today was darkened by their Grand Ruler's death. Now he sits alone surrounded by apprehension.

I didn't kill our Grand Ruler. I found him already dead. He thought in his defense. His fingers tapped the table surface anxiously. He listened closely for any sounds of life behind the closed door; footsteps, breathing, anything. He hated being trapped. He might as well be convicted and sentenced to prison. No, he thought, I wouldn't go to prison for this. I would be publicly hanged from the main balcony. I would be made into an example for all of Tamaran. He winced at the thought of his lifeless body swaying above a cheering audience, held by a noose.

The door creaked as it was pushed open. K'ronta straightened his posture, preparing to defend himself. The door swung open revealing several figures standing in the hallway. The first person who entered was the royal advisor; K'frocan.

K'frocan served under the royal family for many years yet she was the youngest advisor in Tamaran history. She displayed a cold exterior to prove her advancement. She was known to be heartless but wise which helped her give unbiased advice in times of trial. Truly she was not someone to trifle with.

K'ronta cursed under his breath when he realized she would be investigating him.

She took a chair and sat across from him. She placed a folder to the side of her and rested her hands together on the table. K'ronta watched her, waiting for her to sentence him.

"We are not going to kill you." She broke the tension. Her face remained stern.

"You mean…" K'ronta prayed.

"We know you didn't murder our Grand Ruler. The royal doctor inspected his body and concluded he passed from old age." She cleared up, "You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

K'ronta snarled at her attempt at a joke. There was no room for sarcastic humor. His heart continued pounding nervously.

"Then why was I locked in here?" He demanded.

K'frocan scooted herself forward in her chair and picked up the folder. K'ronta watched her flip through the pages before pulling a few out, placing them on the table, and sliding them over to him.

He looked at the documents positioned before him. They were files. Personal files. His files.

"What is this?"

K'frocan explained, "That is you, at least what we have recorded. If you don't mind, look at your personal information please, specifically your biological parents."

K'ronta gave her a skeptical look before glancing down and skimmed through the file. After a few seconds he found the section he was directed to.

Parents of K'ronta Flort

Mother: Scarlia'r Flort

Origin: Tamaran

Father: Galfore K'norka

Origin: Tamaran

K'ronta's eyes widened as he realized whose name he read. He shook his head in disbelief.

"This is a mistake. I never knew my father. It was only my mother and I" K'ronta began.

"This is no mistake," K'frocan interrupted, "just a secret finally revealed."

"Are you implying my father is…"

"Your father was our Grand Ruler." K'frocan finished for him.

That's impossible, he thought, my mother would have never betrayed the royal family like that.

"How dare you accuse my mother of adultery!" K'ronta barked. "She was a noble woman! She served the royal family faithfully! She does not deserve this disrespect!"

K'ronta felt heat rising from the baseline of his neck. It coursed through his cheeks and made his red short hair stand on end. He could practically taste the bitter anger in his mouth.

K'frocan raised her hand for silence. "Your mother was a loyal servant to the royal family. She served them well. We encourage nothing but praise for her. The harsh truth is that in fact, our Grand Ruler fathered you."

K'ronta stilled his anger so he could properly process what was just said. His mother had an illegitimate child with their Grand Ruler. He existed because of an illegal affair.

His head naturally hung in shame as he realized the father he never asked about was living down the hallway his entire life. His mother served the royal family in more ways than one.

"Are you here to banish me?" K'ronta hesitantly asked. He couldn't think of an alternative solution. Sending away their Grand Ruler's bastard son would keep the royal family's image clean of scandal. His only family was his mother, or so he thought, and now all that remains of his family was him. They would have nothing to lose and everything to gain by sending him away. He'd search the cosmos for sanctuary so he could live the rest of his life in exile; the very same way Wildfire was forced to do after his act of treason.

"No." K'frocan said.

K'ronta lifted his head and looked at her, unaware his eyes were pleading for mercy.

"We cannot banish you. We have a mission for you."

K'frocan took back the files and put them away in the folder.

She continued, "Because your father was our Grand Ruler you have royal blood in your veins. You are a half royal."

K'ronta nodded, well aware he is now part of the royal family, even though he's not supposed to be.

"Unfortunately for us, our Grand Ruler didn't leave Tamaran a full royal to pass the throne to in the event of his death. He exiled Wildfire for treason, Blackfire will remain in prison, and Starfire has chosen to stay on Earth. Without a full royal to inherit the throne we face many dangers."

"What do you mean…" K'ronta started.

"Our enemies now have their prime opportunity to attack Tamaran as long as the throne remains empty."

"Our armies have defeated many enemies. We can defend ourselves." K'ronta retorted.

"We also face a danger from within," K'frocan explained, "if the throne remains empty for too long Tamaran might try to elect one of their own to sit as our Grand Ruler. We cannot encourage a civil war."

K'ronta leaned back into his chair considering the information. She's right; Tamaran will face many dangers if we do not act now.

"Why am I included in this?" He asked, curious to hear their motives.

K'frocan also leaned back into her chair. "We cannot seat you on the throne. You are only a half royal. It would tarnish the royal blood line, especially if you took up a wife with no royal blood. We cannot risk the future royal generations."

K'ronta waited for her to clarify her reasoning. He knew he wouldn't be hailed as their Grand Ruler.

"The only person we can put our hope into is Starfire of Earth. Even though she has left Tamaran her royal blood ties will never tarnish." K'frocan said.

K'ronta was met with more confusion. "Are you ordering me to kidnap Starfire and bring her back to Tamaran?" He asked suspiciously.

"Not quite," K'frocan said, "the best chance to reserve the royal bloodline is to hail someone with the biggest ratio. Starfire is unwilling to return herself but she can still offer us our solution."

K'ronta stayed silent. He had a feeling where this was going but he didn't want to believe the royal council would be that cunning.

"In order to save Tamaran we must send you to Earth to find Starfire and have her bear you a child. The child will be hailed as our Grand Ruler."

He was about to protest when he realized he was lost for words. His body sat in shock as he tried to find another solution. He was the royal scribe, not a sperm donor. His duties were to the royal family not to create the royal family.

When K'ronta refused to say anything K'frocan calmly said, "I'm sorry K'ronta but this is the only choice we have."

His eyes met hers after she spoke. This was the first time he ever heard her sound… empathetic. It made him understand what they all were facing. There really is no other way.

He wouldn't be sufficed as their Grand Ruler. K'frocan was right; his bloodline would end the royal bloodline for Tamaran. Time was now of the essence before their enemies learn they were nursing an empty throne. Tamaran would also demand for action sooner or later. With no one to lead the Tamaranians they were all as good as sitting ducks. They had to act now with whatever plan they could manage.

He's never met Starfire. He's never seen pictures of her. He didn't even know the reason for her leaving Tamaran until now. But now he will have to coerce her into becoming his mate. He will have to seek her out only for the fruit of her womb.

He gulped, "When do I start?"

K'frocan scooted the chair backwards and stood up. She picked up the folder and locked her arm against it. She looked down at K'ronta, "Now."