Forward
There were once Twelve men, all different in talent and levels of skills. They came together and used their gifts to bring peace to their land. But Time grew between the men as they argued who was to be king. Each man favored themselves over the other, and they divided the land into twelve, equal sovereigns.
Then, many, many years ago, magical beings from the Old Lands of Magic left their territories and infiltrated the New World. They tricked and conned the innocent people with their magical abilities for personal gain. But they became more and more greedy. Chaos raced through the lands. Sorceresses and warlocks alike began to prey on those they deemed unworthy, scared those who resisted into submission, and slaughtered those who were beyond being frightened to do their will. The once tranquil Twelve Kingdoms fell to ruin to the power of the witches and wizards.
Twelve peaceful Kingdoms there were, and one by one they fell until only one remained.
The King led his army into the final battle, the worst and most brutal the Worlds have ever seen against a mighty sorceress. Her army was larger than King could have ever imagined, and his men lost all hope. The last of the Twelve Kings fell, and the sorceress raided the kingdom. She slayed the King's wife as she protected a crib. Amidst the fighting and blood lust, the sorceress glared into the crib, where a wooden doll lay, still and silent.
The sorceress screamed in anguish, and she searched about the castle for the babe.
The fight had subsided, and the sorceress knew the child was gone, long gone before she even arrived. She'd tortured the castle staff into madness to find the location of the King's child, but none of the servants submitted.
They had no idea where the child was hidden. They had not the slightest indication the child was even missing from its mother's side. For it was the King who recognized their doom early on in battle that he sent his most trusted scout to the castle to hide his only child. Not to be seen, the small scout appeared through the nursery window and told the fair Queen to hand him the child.
The scout was beyond the High Ridge and on the path to the High Mountains when the sorceress attacked the castle. He saw it happen, but he didn't linger long. With a sweep of his billowing cloak, the scout quickly mounted his horse and with the sleeping child safely in his arm. The noble scout vanished into the cover of the trees and the long, moon-cast shadows of the mountain.
No sooner than the sorceress proclaimed herself queen of the kingdom, she'd sent out spies to look for the last of the royal blood line. The scout was always careful, but one day his luck ran short.
Once again the child disappeared from her grasp, but now the sorceress knew more information of what she was dealing with. The Twelve's Royal Scout.
The scout had run far and long when at last he had found what he was searching for.
The Path to the Magic Lands.
The fog that rested there never lifted. Even when the sun was high, the highest trees stretched their heavy leafed branches to block all sunlight from revealing the Path. But the roads here were dangerous, so the scout traveled light without a horse. He walked through the shadows of the forest like a wraith and slept high up in the trees if he could manage it. For five weeks he wandered through the Magic Lands like this with only a baby for company. In that time, he taught the child to be silent during bouts of noise and disturbance.
When the scout couldn't avoid being seen, he'd fasten a pouch over his back and have the child inside it under his cloak. Then he'd go about the villages he came across as an old, hunch over man. With these disguises, the scout never had to part with the baby, but these times of good fortune did not last.
The sorceress nearly caught up with them, and the scout knew he had to put the child somewhere safe.
He'd stolen a horse and rode off, hard and long. The forest grew thicker, and the trees taller. Eventually, the horse could not penetrate the overgrown brush and the scout let the horse free. He looked up as he walked, and the height of the trees dwarfed him, making him seem as small as a fly to the average man. The trunks were large and round that it took several minutes to run passed them.
The scout trudged through the shrubs and weaved around massive trunks until he came to a cobble stone walk. He smiled as he knew his journey was almost over, and took to the road.
The farther he went the darker the road became, and the trees began to close in on him, the air became heavy, but still he walked on. In the darkness, the scout thought he'd spotted a light off the path. If he went off the path he might never find it again. In fact the only way he was still on the path was the sound his heels made on the stones.
He continued to march in the dark. They were both hungry and thirsty, but he couldn't stop to build a fire. The forest harbored great creatures that would be attracted to light even from the smallest pf fires, and if they stepped off the path they would be lost until they died.
Now and then, he could see flickers of light around them in all sorts of colors. At first he was not sure if they were really there or if he was seeing things. In all the time he spent walking in the dark, his eyes had yet to adjust, but this was not an ordinary darkness. This was a protective enchantment.
He kept walking, concentrating hard on noise of his heels when a white speck of light appeared some distance away from him. It grew larger and larger, and he could see how its rays pulsed until the ball of light grew so large it could have easily enveloped the scout and the baby. The light was too bright for his eyes he had to shield them with his gloved hands.
"Do not be afraid, Royal Scout."
He blinked and lowered his hands as the light diminished, leaving a faeri in its wake.
Her head was covered with radiant Easter-purple violets, and wore dark velvet cloak over her white gown.
"You have traveled far."
"Yes," the scout said. "I come in peace."
"But you have a favor to ask of us." She cocked her beautiful face so her pointed ears poked through her silver hair. "You want our people to hide the last free Man Child."
"Protect him, please." The scout showed her the bundle in his arm. "The sorceress's spies-"
"Yes," the faeri said knowingly. "The sorceress's spies are many, indeed, but she has no power here. Yet, her power is growing. Every day she ensnares new servants to carry out her evil deeds. She wants to keep the Race of Man as slaves as they once were eons ago."
"Please take the child, and ensure the prophecy is completed." The scout pleaded with the faeri.
"She will have power to infiltrate us soon, if Man is too weak to resist her. The threat to the New World and even the Magic Lands grows if those greedy enough do not check themselves."
"They have taken over the Twelve Kingdoms. You want them defeated?"
"If their greed deepens, they will plunge the world of magic into darkness and drag all other worlds with it. All creatures will be lost. Even the strength of the Elves will be nonexistent."
"Save yourself, then, if you will not save my entire race!" He held up the child to her as her wings beat together rapidly. "Just promise me you will protect him as long as you can."
"What will you do? If I take the Son of Adam?"
"I must lead the sorceress off his trail."
"You sacrifice yourself for small hope on a prophecy?" She narrowed her angled eyes at him. "'That there remained a Son of Adam, to one day bring back the days of the eternal, and shall take the magic in his own hand and throw evil back to the dark labyrinth whence it came.' A fool's hope?"
"I am a King's Royal Scout, entrusted to take the greatest of The Twelve's son to safety. This infant is the hope of all men now."
"Prophecies are prone to change." She said quickly.
"Men have nothing else to hope for. This child is our freedom, and if all men must believe this child can save us, so be it."
"If the faeries take this Son of Adam, whom all men believe, then he must learn to defend himself against the sorceress's powers." She said first looking on the child then. "Our magic will only take him so far. He will also need the wisdom of Elves."
"Promise me he will live protected until then." The scout dared her.
"With the combined forces of the Elves and Faeries, we will ensure the Son of King's survival."
The scout handed the child into her outstretched arms, and kissed the babe on the forehead before turning around on the stone road and walked away without turning back. The sorceress caught up with him some days later. He fought valiantly, but the sorceress's magic was too strong. He was badly wounded, and couldn't summon the strength to lift any weapon. The sorceress swooped down on him.
"Tell me where the King's child is," she said maliciously, "and I will relieve you of the pain."
"Send me to the netherworld if you wish," the scout spat, "but I will never tell you anything."
"You choose the wrong path, scout." The sorceress said through gritted teeth. "I will not let you join your Kings. You will live in anguish."
From that day, the witches and warlocks formed a pact. They would replace the Twelve Kings, and search for the lost infant king. The sorceress took charge of discipline, torture, and law enforcement. All prisoners faced her unfair judgment.
The scout was subjected to all elements of torture. The scout hid his food, and stopped eating altogether, determined to die before he'd betray his young King. His death was slow and painful. On the his last day when the sorceress asked him where the Twelve's infant was hidden, he died with a smile on his face and a whisper of a laugh on his lips as he saw the last glimpse of fury if he would utter the words he always told her.
"The child is of no concern to you."